There is something unsettling about an Alison Lurie novel, and Truth and Consequences is a good example. Initial impressions are of convention. There are no tricksy titles to the chapters, no postmodern self-conscious narrators, no drug-pushers, no faddish multiculturalism. Her characters have traditional names and do ordinary things: men eat ham sandwiches, and women wear shirt-waisters. You always feel you ought to know where you stand in Lurie World, and to some extent, by the end of her novels, you do. And yet her novels are deceptive. Her writing shocks in small ways, and the after-shocks linger.