'The Sharpshooter #7: Headcrusher' – Bruno Rossi (Leisure Books, 1974)

The number of posts about films, TV shows and pictures of books has probably given the game away. I'm having real trouble getting into, and sticking with, the books that I'd normally read. It's the way it goes sometimes and certainly these last few months haven't been the best for reading. The thing is though, I love reading. Reading is what I do. What's a Graeme to do then? Well, there used to be a time when I'd just drop whatever I was reading and just try something else that was similar. That's not working these days so I thought I'd turn it round and go in completely the opposite direction. Try reading something that I'd never normally even think of picking up. As luck would have it, I've been building a little pile of books just for this very purpose. Deptford Market is just the place to find all sorts of stuff that you never even knew you wanted, until it's right there in front of you, and apparently that includes books about lone gunmen taking on the mob. I had to buy 'Headcrusher' as it looked far too ridiculous to leave on the pile. And then last week, I sat down and read it in between doing half term stuff with the girls. What did I think...? Keep reading and I'll tell you...

Like a jackal stalking his prey, Rock moved through New York's glittering Times Square jungle almost unnoticed. Adapting himself to the filth and degeneracy he found there, Rock zeroed in on the Mafia controlled porn shops and unlicenced whore houses known as massage parlours. He made no move until everything was ready. Then he launched the most brutal and vicious attack the Mafia pigs had ever known. He dealt with them slowly – enjoying their pain and pleas for mercy – but Rock had no humanity left. He lived only to crush the syndicate that had savagely murdered his family.

Before I get started, I feel almost duty-bound to tell you guys up front that the 'hero' of this piece is not a sharpshooter at all and does not crush a single head, not one. This realisation did not spoil my enjoyment of the book at all (more on that in a minute) but it just seemed like a weird move to almost dress up the book as something that it wasn't (quite) in order, I guess, to sell a few more copies. Not that they needed to do that at all, they should have just called it 'Die, Mafia Bastards' and let the book get on with it. Because that's what it really is...

'His only purpose in life was to kill Mafia bastards,'

I don't even know where to start with this unapologetically violent and nasty piece of pulp fiction. I ended up really enjoying it; I suspect partly because I just wouldn't normally read a book like this (and it made for a refreshing change just when I needed it) but also because the violence, and the ability of Johnny Rock to more or less shrug off anything, gets turned up to cartoonish levels and is impossible to take seriously. To be honest, I don't think you're meant to take it seriously, just go with the flow and enjoy the action.

The plot is very, very simple. Johnny Rock is on a mission to kill every single Mafiosi who played a part in the death of his family; oh, and any other Mafiosi or associated hoods that happen to be in the way of his gun. And that's it, Rock works his way up to the big boss and leaves a trail of bodies behind him along the way.

The luridly drawn backdrop of a sleazy seventies Manhattan serves to help anyone, who really hasn't been paying, figure out just who the bad guys are and why they are bad. As far as this goes, I should say that Rossi's depiction of this savage underworld should probably come with any number of trigger warnings for survivors of abuse. Rossi doesn't hold back with his descriptions of Mafia rackets and the people forced to work for them, I suspect as a way to hold a certain male readership's attention and to make sure that they came back for the next book. Some of it is really unpleasant to read but I get the reasoning behind the approach.

But back to Rock. Bullets don't actually bounce off this guy but they may as well do considering the carnage this guy unloads on the New York underworld. Rock is actually like the Punisher but without any of the redeeming features. He's not a character that is particularly easy to like or get on with but that's ok as far as the book goes; we're just here to see him kill Mafia bastards in any number of bullet ridden scenarios. And that, for me, is what made this book so readable. Rossi has to keep topping the last awesome bullet fest and despite all the stuff that you feel you should dislike about 'Headcrusher', you can't get help but really get involved in the shootouts. This does come at the expense of any real character development for Rock and there are moments where you see Rossi half consider building Rock up just a little, like when Rock starts to wonder where his life is taking him and if there is any way back... And then Rossi basically does the literary equivalent of shrugging his shoulders and sends Rock right back to killing Mafia bastards for the rest of the book.

I think the bottom line is that if you're after any kind of characterisation at all in a story, you're not going to find it here. 'Headcrusher' is simply not that kind of book.

I can forgive a lot in a book if it's honest about what it is and what it's doing. 'Headcrusher' may well be the most unapologetically honest book that I've ever read; scattered with uncomfortable passages but crammed full of a bastard 'hero' killing Mafia bastards. I enjoyed it for what it was and will probably keep an eye open for more of these books at the market, just in case I hit another reading slump.