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HEAD WOUNDS
by Chris Knopf
Random House Canada, March 2009
384 pages
$17.95 CAD
ISBN: 0307356590


Buy in the UK | Buy in Canada

Sam Acquillo has certainly had a chequered past. Engineering graduate of a prestigious US university, a former CEO of a building firm, he was also a professional boxer, a graduate of a court-mandated detox program (it doesn't seem to have taken), and a survivor of a bitter divorce that left him estranged from his daughter. Now he has washed up on Long Island's South Fork, his childhood home, where he keeps himself in Absolut and his dog in Alpo by doing carpentry on the upscale housing springing up all over the area.

Sam seems not to desire anything but to be left alone to drink his vodka, chat with his dog (Eddie Van Halen), and read Immanuel Kant. Well, he does seem to have certain strong stirrings for Amanda, whose husband has left her what amounts to a fortune in real estate overlooking the water.

Sam must be protective of his head - one more concussion and he may face the fate of so many ex-boxers - mumbling, shaking, Parkinson's, or worse. But a confrontation in a bar parking lot with a several drunks spoiling for a fight makes it clear that even at fifty-something, Sam cannot be certain of a peaceful existence. And when one of the drunks turns up dead, his head bashed in by Sam's very own heavy-duty stapler, then Sam finds himself facing charges that could land him in prison for a very long time. As the local constabulary do not seem inclined to pursue matters much beyond the obvious, Sam must enlist a varied band of supporters to clear his name.

Sam is decidedly an attractive fantasy figure - able to ingest frightening quantities of alcohol and still remain largely upright, literate, witty, fast on his feet, quick with a literary allusion, and mad about his pooch. If Knopf flirts perilously close with terminal cuteness, he largely remains on the right side of adorable and he can construct a complex and complicated plot. While I had to suspend more disbelief than I care to at the spectacle of Sam reading Kant in a smoky bar between turns at the pool table (he is, happily, a rather poor player), I certainly enjoyed his company more than many other wise-cracking noir heroes.

This book is set in Southampton in early spring, a time when the ordinary year-round resident working folks are doing what they do and the terrifyingly rich have yet to come down from the city to occupy their mansions. All the same, despite the season, this would make a lovely book to take along to the beach and enjoy while sipping a vodka and tonic on the shore.

Reviewed by Yvonne Klein, May 2009

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Contact: Yvonne Klein (ymk@reviewingtheevidence.com)


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