AMERICANS ON THE PROWL
By Michael Wood
THE NAMES By Don DeLillo. 339 pp. New York: Alfred A. Knopf. $13.95. AMERICA is an irresistible theme for American writers. This preoccupation is not usually patriotic; indeed it has nothing much to do with a country at all. America, in this context, is not a place or a nation but a condition of the soul tied to a habit of the possession of power. Don DeLillo's first novel was called ''Americana.'' ''The Names,'' his seventh, is a dense, brilliant, ultimately rather elusive meditation on the relation of this half-mythological America to the historical world. A series of discreet markers gives us the time: ''This summer ... was the period after the Shah left Iran, before the hostages were taken.'' The principal settings of ''The Names'' are Greece and India, but the Americans in this novel mainly live in their own time and place, a sealed compartment, a subculture. They are executives of banks and insurance companies; they live in Athens, have lived in Teheran, Beirut, Cairo, Cyprus. They travel constantly to Turkey, Kuwait, Pakistan, Jordan, Zaire. ''It is like the Empire,'' one of them says. ''Opportunity, adventure, sunsets, dusty death.'' It is like tourism, another says: ''Errors and failings don't cling to you the way they do back home.'' Later we read: ''Americans used to come to places like this to write and paint and study, to find deeper textures. Now we do business.''