Knucklehead: A Journey Out of the Mind

by Peter Gault

Reflected in this book is the combined iltelligence of many people.

205 pages, Paperback

First published December 1, 1996

Reviews

[Glenn Russell · Rating 5 out of 5]

Back in the mid-1990s on a warm July morning Peter Gault set up a bookstand on Sixth Avenue, Greenwich Village, New York City with a sign reading MEET THE AUTHOR and copies aplenty of Knucklehead, his out-of-the-mind autobiographical journey.

With bald head, coral shell earring, blazing blue eyes, bare arms and leather vest, Peter was quite a sight; he reminded me of the harpooner Queequeg from Moby Dick. I introduced myself, purchased Knucklehead, and asked Peter to sign my book. Although I only met Peter that once, I felt I made a connection with a kindred spirit.

Knucklehead is the hilarious, hallucinogenic odyssey of a man who makes a radical mid-life switch from married, paunchy, boring lawyer to single, robust, super-charged adventurer. After leaving his wife, Anna, and after a fierce verbal attack against the counsel of an experienced sailor he calls a rather nasty name, our hero ignores the maritime severe storm warning and belligerently takes his boat Knucklehead (named after his own sense of thickheaded self) out on Lake Ontario.

Once out on the lake, far from any sighting of land, our bonehead voyager tunes into the station broadcasting nautical information. "The VHF radio was persistent in its repetition of the words ;a small craft advisory.; Eagerly, I awaited the advice that was to be given for small crafts; what ensured was a mind-boggling string of seemingly contradictory info that left me thoroughly befuddled. But the announcer didn't know how to issue a clear, unequivocal, impassioned directive. He didn't say, 'STAY THE FUCK OFF THE LAKE!' He said, `southeasterly winds 35 knots." I had never quite mastered the metric system, let alone this esoteric "knots" nonsense."

What happens next during the raging storm is one of the most intense experiences the former lawyer has in his life - his little boat turning several 360s makes him a believer - this isn't TV, this is how headstrong knuckleheads wind up getting themselves killed.

Finally, following a string of harrowing close calls over the course of a couple of months, our hero finally docks Knucklehead and wanders the streets of New York City in a chapter aptly titled City of Fire. The author captures the raw energy popping off in a thousand blasts every minute as his reborn kaleidoscopic eyes take it all in.

Walking down the street, he halts and reflects, "Right then a miracle happened, another confounding miracle. My reaction to witnessing the impossible, What I saw was a reflection of myself in the mirror of a display window - the first peek since the journey commenced. It was me but it wasn't me. My appearance had undergone a radical transformation. My hair was thicker and blonder and wilder. The laugh lines and chalky complexion were gone, replaced by a youthful ruddiness, even the bone structure of my face had altered. To see that I was capable of physically reconstructing myself, that I had unwittingly reversed the aging process of ten, fifteen years, that by changing my thought patterns I was changing my physiology, was in my mind material prof of a supernatural event."

The thrills and wonders keep coming and coming as the journey continues. With an odyssey this fantastic, is it any wonder the last chapter, The Realm Of The Unfathomable, explodes in mind-expanding visions? I'm reminded of The Magic Theater at the end of Hermann Hesse's Steppenwolf.

One last quote from Peter Gault's topsy-turvy adventure: "Language isn't reality. Language is an abstraction, an illusion. Illusion traps us in misery and fear. Words are the jailer. The verbal tape repeating in our minds - naming, labeling, opinionating - completely blinding us to Reality. That's why, as animals, without the barrier of language, we are aware of Truth." Is it any wonder Peter appeared to my eye like a modern version of Queequeg?