Whatever one thinks of Barack Obama's politics, it's hard to argue with his decision to read "Freedom," Jonathan Franzen's new novel, on his vacation.

My hope was that Franzen's first novel in about a decade might match "The Corrections" (2001), which is among the best 21st-century American novels I've read.

But while the two novels cover similar ground — the sound and fury of a contemporary American family whose members juggle rage, guilt and love toward the world and each other — "Freedom" is even better than its predecessor.

Like "The Corrections" — and like Franzen himself — "Freedom" has its origins in the Midwest.

Walter and Patty Berglund are among the pioneers gentrifying St. Paul, where their lovingly restored Victorian and two beloved children embody a seemingly idyllic existence of well-meaning liberals dithering about whether to use cloth diapers, where one can get bottled milk and whether the Boy Scouts are politically acceptable.

Things quickly go south. In a bold move, Franzen opens "Freedom" by covering 20-plus years in just over 20 pages, during which Berglund children Jessica and Joey head toward college, the Berglunds move to Washington and their marriage falls apart.

The tone is broad and satiric. The opening to "Freedom" is Franzen's wry goodbye to the smart-aleck novelist he once was, while the remainder confirms what a literary giant he has since become.

"Freedom" gives ample air time to four characters: Walter and Patty as well as a college-aged Joey and Walter's best friend, Richard.

Franzen's uncanny ear for how people actually talk — not just to each other but also to themselves — results in brilliantly handled free-indirect narration and adept flashbacks, allowing "Freedom" to casually meander into each of these characters' troubled pasts while retaining a more informed perspective, fully rooted in the present.

All four of these leads — and every one of the characters orbiting around them — are deeply flawed.

Walter's fundamental decency mixes uneasily with barely suppressed anger, the result of dreams he deferred for the people he loves — none of whom seem to love him back as much.

The chronically depressed Patty, an intensely competitive onetime basketball star, has spent a lifetime resenting the parents she in many ways resembles, while desperately looking to others — including Walter, Joey and Richard — to give her what her own parents could not.

Joey responds with a rebellion that wins him his freedom, while willfully hurting his parents by denying how much he and they share.

The troubled but gifted Richard wants to share all too much with Patty — in between numerous short-term flings while touring the world as a musician.

Even when these characters' interests collide, "Freedom" allows you to root for all of them, reflecting Franzen's compassionate recognition that life is more complicated and contradictory than we're usually willing to admit.

"Freedom" by Jonathan Franzen; Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 576 pages, $28.