The span of time covered by "The Washington Story" is longer than in "Crossing California" (1982-87, vs. 1979-81), but in all other ways, the book's scope is narrowed. Gone are most of the plots around grown-ups, and I have my opinion of why that is. Langer is interested in people in transition, people going through big changes in life, and big changes, historically, come less and less frequently as we grow up. The Rovners, Michael and Ellen, solidify their divorce and move their separate ways. Charlie Wasserstrom and Gail Schiffler move into the Funny House to raise their newborn child, Rachel. Deirdre Wills focuses her time on teaching. They have found their paths, and thus Langer's follow-up has no more use for them, except to occasionally offer a crash pad for their transition-prone progeny. Mel Coleman and Carl Silverman, who have made the big jump of breaking into the movie industry together, are the only grown-ups with extended stretches in the book.
Unlike "Crossing California," with its multiple-perspective narrative and huge canvas, "The Washington Story" works essentially as four novellas and a short story, following mostly the younger characters as they start to work their way out of West Rogers Park and into their own futures. The narrator is omniscient this time, not flitting from brain to brain, but observing from above, letting us view from a distance. Each sub-book within the novel concerns a pair of people (Jill and Muley, Mel and Michelle, Jill and her dead mother Becky, Muley and the previously minor character Hillel Levy, and Jill and Rachel) with the other characters circling their orbits like Halley's Comet, which is also a recurring character in the book.
Several of the stories are quite affecting, and Langer does the work of adding emotional resonance rather than structural density in expanding his world. Muley's previous golden child status has expanded slightly into an obsessive personality that explains his hugely innovative film projects later in the book. And Jill flowers into the compelling protagonist Langer has been grooming her to be. The story between Mel and Michelle is handled with a fair hand if not a lot of panache. Jill's attempt to connect with her mother's family contains some really lovely nuggets of insight about certain contrary personality types (i.e. her long-estranged grandmother in Poughkeepsie).
That said, some of the tics Langer had in the first book are twice as apparent here, namely taking big liberties with motivations and personalities in the service of some pretty corny jokes, and that world-building habit of making every person in the story be connected to every other person constantly -- even in other cities and states, all these characters are just missing each other at bus stations, bumping into each other at remote colleges, and re-connecting with long-lost acquaintances during short visits home. Langer puts so much great work into establishing realism of character and gesture that when he has them get involved in larger-than-life and unlikely scenarios (thinking of the "Larry Eliot" side-plot here), it's just too much frosting on the eight-layered wedding cake, making for a goopy mess.
The framing device of the election of Chicago Mayor Harold Washington (hence the title) was less pervasive, sadly, than the Iran hostage crisis and election of Ronald Reagan in "Crossing California." This also fits with the theme of the book; it's not just about change, but involvement in one's own interests while shutting out the outside world as time goes on. Apart from Jill (and minor character Wes), most of the characters are apolitical, preferring to work on their life's goals: movies, acting, production, or bedding Michelle Wasserstrom. Both the precise, compressed world of West Rogers Park and the political events of the time period made "Crossing California" so memorable. "Washington" is a bit unmoored by comparison, just like its characters, always on the move to their next opportunity. Because of this, we mourn the insularity of the first book, even as we curse our own stability, wishing that our own story expanded like the subtitle of book four: "A story about West Rogers Park, Chicago, America, and the Milky Way Galaxy." As I rounded up "California" to 4.5 stars, this is a solid 3.5. It's a sweet, sad goodbye to characters I've gotten too attached to and hate to see go. I wish them all the best on their beautiful, fictional lives.