The story opens with Jonah receiving a double dose of bad news: He’s been fired as presidential press secretary after making politically incorrect comments regarding terrorists, and he’s received a mysterious message that an ex-girlfriend is summoning him to her Tennessee plantation.

The story functions in two main parts. It cuts between the Jonah and high-school romance Claudine Polk’s “summer of love” spent at Rattle and Snap Plantation in 1980 and the present-day. One problem: the forty-something Jonah doesn’t appear to be much more emotionally mature in the "2005" chapters than he does in the "1980" ones.

The first-person narration is peppered with laugh-out-loud one-liners. "Washington likes to think it finds candor refreshing," Jonah says, "but honesty in this town is a novelty mint, not sustenance." Some subplots, such as Jonah’s assistant’s “relationship” with a White House higher-up, evoke memories of Monica Lewinsky: They seem totally plausible and deserving of eye-rolling. Others—such as Jonah’s threats -- that include calling in fighter jets and involve elaborate disguises -- against J.T. Hillard, Claudine’s husband and Jonah’s former rival—are far-fetched.

Some of the secondary characters sparkle—for instance, Jonah’s Jewish grandmother with “showgirl legs” or Indy Six, Claudine’s younger brother, with whom he becomes close friends. Others are uncomfortable racial stereotypes, like the “wise black man” Elijah, descendant of former Rattle and Snap slaves, who still lives on the plantation.

Several convoluted subplots—particularly one involving the Freemansons—ineffectively attempt to add depth to this lighthearted novel. The possibility of a love child born to Jonah and Claudine simply makes their present-day relationship appear tawdry and cheapens the "love" that Jonah remembers from their summer spent at Rattle n' Snap.

And what is “happily married” Jonah telling his wife during his travels between DC and Tennessee? I wasn’t quite sure if I was witnessing the beginning of an affair or a bizarre midlife crisis.

In the end, I was unsure why anyone would go out of his way to help the Machiavellian Claudine, a Scarlett O’Hara-esque character lacking the O'Hara pragmatism or determination.

Spinning Dixie is entertaining for fans eager to continue the Eastman saga started in Dezenhall’s first two novels but is an dissatisfying introduction for those who just coming to it. By turns amusing downright absurd, Spinning Dixie is like a partly cloudy day—you know the sun is there and ready to shine, but the experience is often dampened for lack of clarity.