THE WOODEN NICKEL

Archie Bunker would look like Ralph Nader alongside the robust, profane life force who easily dominates this zesty, entertaining second novel by the Maine poet and author (A Keeper of Sheep, 1994).

He’s Lucas “Lucky” Lunt, a native of fictional Orphan Point who has survived both Vietnam and a bad ticker, spent 30 years leading the hard life of an independent lobster fisherman, and has just about had it with rival lobstermen, tightfisted middleman Clyde Hannaford, and Lucky’s increasingly combative family: wife Sarah, who’s become an “artist” producing “little sea glass sculptures”; smart-mouthed college-age daughter Kristen; and 20-year-old skinhead high-school dropout Kyle, who gives evidence of being uneducable, unemployable, mad at the world, and gay. As if this isn’t enough, Lucky hires Clyde’s estranged sexpot wife Ronette as “stern man” aboard (his boat) The Wooden Nickel, gets her pregnant, splits with Sarah, and fires a “warning shot” that goes astray during a “lobster war” over disputed fishing areas. As a result, Lucky is courted by an affable ex-con plotting to burgle rich out-of-staters’ houses and by wily Mr. Moto, who specializes in marketing illegal oversized “Godzilla lobsters” and whale meat. Carpenter keeps his busy plot boiling, as Lucky and Ronette encounter a nasty cetacean tangled in fishing lines, then must survive a rescue by a boatful of horny rednecks. It all reads as if Carolyn Chute had moved eastward to the coast, or Richard Russo’s townies had grown extra layers of grit and cussedness. And Lucky is a terrific creation: ribald, cranky, deeply conservative, homophobic, xenophobic, irrationally violent—and the unquenchable source of malevolently funny one-liners that can drop you dead in your tracks (dealing with chopsticks in a Chinese restaurant, for example, is “like going after a dog turd with a pair of oars”).

An insouciant antipastoral as bracing and bitter as a January nor’easter. Don’t miss it.