Egyptian novelist Alaa Al Aswany's "The Automobile Club of Egypt" begins with two of its characters chiding the author for telling their story from his point of view and then supplying him with an alternate text that, as it happens, is the book before us.

After that intrusion, there are no more metafictional hijinks. Instead, what follows are tightly interlaced plots, suspense, dashes of comedy, historical particularity and a throng of believable, vigorously drawn characters — the work, in sum, of one of the Mideast's most popular novelists.

The setting is Cairo during what appears to be the last year of the reign of King Farouk (overthrown in 1952), who, though never specifically named, plays a crucial role. He is shown to be a gluttonous, gambling playboy and all-around wastrel and a frequent guest at the Royal Automobile Club.

Only the most thoroughly vetted Egyptians are allowed membership in the club — whose original founders of 1924 had hoped to exclude Egyptians entirely — and, as such, it serves as a microcosm of the country's power structure.

Its manager is an Englishman, James Wright, a racist and toady, a man quite willing to pimp his high-spirited daughter, Mitzi, for his own advancement. The staff is made up chiefly of Egyptians, all serving at the pleasure of the king's right-hand man, Alku, who siphons off a large share of the tips and punishes the smallest misstep with beatings delivered by his sadistic sidekick.

The story is set into motion by such a beating, which leads, through the sheer weight of humiliation, to the death of its victim, Abd el-Aziz Gaafar. A proud former landowner reduced to servitude, the man leaves a wife and four children ranging from late teens to early 20s. There is Said, selfish and grasping; Mamoud, kindly, dimwitted and muscle-bound; Kamel, dutiful son and law student who becomes involved in a plot to overthrow the king and end the British occupation, and Saleha, a student who falls prey to her brother Said's self-interested machinations.

The fast-moving stories of the Gaafar siblings, as well as that of Wright's rebellious daughter, are advanced in turn through the chapters and include political intrigue, brutal retribution, forbidden love affairs, sexual peculiarity and, I am happy to say, gratifying comeuppances.

The novel combines terrific storytelling with historical empathy and astute portrayals of the effect of tyranny on character. Each chapter deepens the sense of injustice and frustration that pervaded the club and the nation at large at this time. But each chapter also ends in a cliffhanger, and even at almost 500 pages, this wonderful novel is almost impossible to put down.

Katherine A. Powers reviews widely and is the editor of "Suitable Accommodations: The Letters of J. F. Powers, 1942-1963."