Writers are rare who can swiftly generate a story with instantly distinguishable characters and the prospect of development. Rarer still is the fiction artist who controls his material with such subtle dexterity that his presence is barely felt. To do so is essentially the dramatist's craft, normally mastered in middle age, when the artist is exhausted of illusions that any part of the world spins at the lashing of his single will and when he is ripe in his understanding of the inherent mechanism of things. It requires an eye, an ear and a knowledge of character. Remarkably, Anne Tyler, at the age of 24, has now produced two novels ["If Morning Ever Comes" and "The Tin Can Tree"] that display her understanding of the dramatic mode, as distinct from the lyrical.

Her second book, "The Tin Can Tree" tells a story that seems unpromisingly slight in summary. Janie...