We can tell right away by the title that this novel will take place in a school setting. It's Baldwin High School, the largest high school in Houston, Texas, where we will get to know some of its teachers and administrators as we follow along on some of their days. A few students will make cameos, too.

The larger picture is framed by the life, lengthy career and death of a veteran teacher, Mr. Bob Lehrer. He had worked at Baldwin for decades, and he reached hundreds of students. If you know German, then you can appreciate the irony of his surname, which happens to be the German word for "teacher." This connection is never mentioned in the book, so it becomes a quiet and fun secret for a certain population of readers.

Lehrer's passing -- of natural causes -- sets into motion a series of unfortunate events, as the saying goes. It also prompts his colleagues to recall their fondest memories and interactions with him. Was he a model teacher for the rest? Or does he represent the way teaching USED to be? (And can it ever go back?)

So far, the story may sound like a sad and maudlin one. But this book turns out to be light, amusing and absolutely relevant.

Individual chapters follow individual teachers or administrators. Key among them is the principal, Mark Kendricks, who must toe the fine line between the opinions of the educators in his building, and the mandates from the powers-that-be, who are located in the district's central office. Assistant principal Denise Baker and guidance counselor Lovie Jackson have their own challenges to deal with. Hannah Sanderson is a first-year social studies teacher who is so new to the profession that she is always second-guessing herself and is constantly hoping to prove her worth, both to the students and to her colleagues. And then there's math teacher James Fitzsimmons, resident curmudgeon, who shoots down every point made in every faculty meeting. Because someone like him must always be in the room.

Author Jennifer Mathieu rightly decided to reflect real life, even when the teachers address each other. As a result, everyone calls one another "Mr." or "Ms.," in public or in one-to-one conversations, until it is clear that they know one another personally enough to use their first names. This is what teachers do. It's also a more-than-subtle reminder that people are more than the superficial selves reflected by mere titles.

The education of our youth is a serious business. Yet, when you get into the field yourself, you too become a learner. You may witness the phenomenon where one small, tame and seemingly inconsequential scene is blown up into something huge, unrecognizable and ridiculous. You may learn about the nutty and insane moves of the administration. Situations may defy common sense and logic. It happens. It happens here at Baldwin. And it can be so ludicrous that it can only turn hilarious. Those readers who have worked in schools will alternatively nod in understanding at certain developments here, and they will shake their heads in semi-disbelief at the audacities and the likeliness of other events. And they will laugh. Baldwin High School could be ANY school that we know.

Mathieu has also woven into the stories the contemporary issues of our times, as they affect both teachers and students -- especially in a conservative state, such as Texas. These issues include staff diversity, book banning and a woman's right to make her own health decisions. It's real-life stuff that these people are dealing with. Sometimes we'll agree with the outcomes, sometimes we won't. The Baldwin folks are choosing how to move on with their lives.

When you finish reading The Faculty Lounge and reach the author's bio on the back flap, you see that she lives in Houston and has worked for many years as a teacher. Of course! She knows! No wonder this book is so realistic and funny. And it IS funny.

The Faculty Lounge offers satisfying escapism for anyone who works in the field of education. But it's not really an escape, as it turns out. Yup, this is the way schools work. And yet, the Baldwin High School folks are keepin' on keepin' on, day after day. Maybe the rest of us can do it, too.