March 16, 1986

Paramus, the mecca of malls in Bergen County, N.J., is gaining another. But what sets this new mall apart, the developer says, is the opening of New Jersey's first Filene's Basement, a large discount retailer. The new complex, to be called the Mall at IV, is on Route 4, east of Route 17, and across from the Bergen Mall. The two-level building will have about 125,000 square feet of retail space, with about 50 stores, cording to the developer, Arthur M. Halvajian, the principal of the Mall at IV Group. About 50 percent of the mall is now leased, Mr. Halvajian said.

Many of my colleagues will agree with the diagnosis that ''today's orchestras are adrift'' in a sea of conflicting pressures, as an article in this paper suggested not long ago. The ailments may be more apparent now, but they have been part of the musical scene since at least the end of World War I. To separate various symptoms of the malaise it is necessary to distinguish between symphonic activity in Europe and in America. In this endeavor my limited credentials are: personal working acquaintance with 50 orchestras, of which 13 are located in the United States, 34 in Europe and the others in South America and Canada. But my main concern is with the domestic situation. Taking a tally of the American Symphony Orchestra League at face value, we count 34 ''major'' orchestras with full yearly employment of players and staff. I calculate that the annual total seating capacity for the concerts of these orchestras must come to well over 6 million. Here is the arithmetic I used: 34 orchestras with a minimum of 40 weeks' activities in their home regions must schedule a grand total of 1,360 weeks of concerts per annum; if there are three weekly performances, which is necessary to balance earned and raised income, we get to 4,080 concerts each season. Taking a low average seating capacity of 1,500 (which is exceedingly modest), my final figure is 6,120,000 persons.

If you think Whitey Herzog spent the winter cowering in a corner haunted by the memory of how his St. Louis Cardinals blew the World Series, forget it. And if you think Herzog is haunted this spring by the loss of Joaquin Andujar and those 21 victories, he wants you to forget that, too. ''Last year's gone,'' the blond, blunt manager of the Redbirds says. ''No scars are left. I don't mind losing the seventh game of the World Series. We didn't hit, we didn't run, we only had two guys pitch worth a damn. But it's gone.'' Then, to let you know he absolutely has no trauma from the great Cardinal collapse on national television, he says: ''We haven't lost a game since Oct. 27.''

CHILDREN OF LIGHT By Robert Stone. 258 pp. New York: Alfred A. Knopf. $17.95. ROBERT STONE is the apostle of strung out. People in his novels have reached the end of the tether: alone, desperate, scared, doing a lot of hard liquor and drugs, they hit the road. And as they go they keep listening in the dark, against all odds, for something that might be a moral channel marker, or love, or God, or just a way to get through the night. Critics have compared Mr. Stone to Conrad, Faulkner, Hemingway, Graham Greene, Malcolm Lowry, Nathanael West; all apt enough, but there's a James T. Farrell, Raymond Chandler, Dashiell Hammett strain as well - a hard-edged, lonely intelligence that sets bright promise off against stark failure and deals its mordant hand lightly. In ''A Flag for Sunrise'' (1981), an anthropologist observes: ''There's always a place for God. . . . There is some question as to whether He's in it.'' And near the end of ''Children of Light,'' a writer tells his lover: '' 'I would die for you.' . . . It was true, he thought, but not really helpful.''

There are framed gold and platinum albums on the wall of Mary Travers's midtown office, reminders of the million-selling hits she sang as a member of Peter, Paul and Mary in the 1960's. Hanging next to them, however, are other kinds of citations - including, for instance, one from the Korean Institute for Human Rights. Twenty-five years after Miss Travers first sang with Peter Yarrow and Paul Stookey, the trio has been marking its anniversary with concerts for causes - standard operating procedure for the pop-folk singers who have played more than 300 benefits for causes and candidates in the past three years alone. In the wake of such socially conscious rock events as Live Aid for famine relief, Farm Aid to publicize the farm problem and the all-star anti-apartheid single ''Sun City,'' Peter, Paul and Mary might well feel like elder siblings.