John Crowley began as writer of highly literary fantasy and science fiction, with a pronounced tendency towards the fairytale and dreamlike, rather than the epic: "Little, Big" is likely the preeminent example of this period and may still be his best-known work, at least among SF and fantasy fans (as well as being my favorite of his books). But though these early works were undoubtedly fantasy or science fiction, magic and advanced technology played a fairly minor role in them, and so his subsequent turn away from those genres is perhaps not quite as surprising as it seems at first glance. Since 2000 he has written only one fantasy novel, the final volume of his AEgypt tetralogy. His other works since then are "Lord Byron's Novel", half an imaginary novel by Lord Byron and half an email-epistolary novel about the discoverer of it; "The Translator", a historical fiction set at an imaginary American college during the Cuban Missile Crisis; and "Four Freedoms", also a historical fiction but this time set at an imaginary aircraft plant during World War II.
"Four Freedoms" centers around Prosper Olander, whose lower legs were accidentally paralyzed during surgery to correct for childhood spinal lordosis. Not only that, Prosper's father left his family when he was 7 and his mother died when he was twelve; furthermore, his disability largely excluded him from formal schooling. Despite all this, he is unflaggingly good-natured and kind-hearted, blaming nobody for his troubles and tolerating all sorts of slights and jokes without anger or bitterness (the only thing that he really dislikes are stairs). His consolation appears to come from having sex, which he does a lot, including with the other three main characters in the book, Vi, Connie, and Diane. They, like him, are workers at the giant Van Damme Aerospace plant in Ponca City, OK (an imaginary amalgamation of a number of similar plants), pressed into service because of the shortage of (non-disabled) men. Vi is from the Plains somewhere, Connie from Chicago, and Diane from L.A.: we are given each of their backstories, which consist of a failed family farm, a cheating husband, and a rushed marriage to a pilot, respectively, but none of them are particularly interesting.
The first big problem with the book is that Prosper isn't either. He's basically a saint who doesn't believe in celibacy, which makes it hard to identify with him. Presumably Crowley's goal was to establish that disabled people aren't necessarily bitter or angry, aren't consumed their disability (with the exception, in Prosper's case, of stairs), and can have normal relationships, but he takes it too far. It's just hard to believe that someone with Prosper's background would be completely free of any sort of angst or trauma as an adult, and the steady parade of women falling into his bed is also not entirely plausible, disabled or not (though the war helps him there, I suppose). Interestingly, the book also contains a minor character, Al, who is a midget and is bitter and angry about it; Crowley doesn't investigate this contrast, though.
The novel's other problem is that it is a slice of life, rather than a story. Characters drift in and out as they come to and leave the plant: the backgrounds of all the main characters are explored, but once they leave the plant they are seen no more. Insofar as the book is anything, it's Prosper's story, but there's no real narrative arc: Prosper doesn't really grow or change, and his one outburst, near the novel's end, is isolated and mostly meaningless. Of the women, Connie is probably the most interesting: for her war work means increasing independence and the discovery of her capabilities, and although she is unable to rise above her sexist lout of a husband, Crowley solves that problem for her by having him killed in action. But even her story feels incomplete: we want to know what happens to her afterwards, how she gets on in the post-war world, but the novel doesn't go there. In fact, to a certain extent the novel reads as a setup for other, probably more interesting books: Connie's struggle to assert herself in a postwar world that wants nothing more than for her to go back to the kitchen; Vi's attempt to revive her father's farm; Diane trying to make a life with a husband she barely knows, while dealing with the guilt of having told him that the baby she pretended was his is actually Prosper's; and a satirical picaresque in which Prosper, his friend Pancho (a bestopianist, not a utopianist), the midget Sal (Al's wife, or rather widow at this point), and Larry, the former plant union representative, drift their way west, heading to the founding UN meeting so Pancho can explain how the world should be run.
Luckily, Crowley is a good writer, so the book is still fairly readable, even if the plot doesn't quite work and the characters don't always hold your attention, but this is definitely my least favorite of the books by him I've read.