What would drive a lawyer to start selling cocaine that he innocently found under a park bench?

This question and others are answered in Matthew Kneale’s collection of a dozen short stories, “Small Crimes in an Age of Abundance.”

Kneale’s stories are linked under the common motif of crime, although he keeps the reader guessing as to what the essential crime in each story really is. While a crime, in the legal sense of the word, often occurs, Kneale’s characters are usually punished for an ethical or moral transgression, which serves as the crux of the story.

This motif, combined with Kneale’s aversion to making the real “crime” of the story apparent until the end of the story, makes “Small Crimes” highly entertaining. Though the twists at the end of many stories border on contrived or gimmicky, they nonetheless prove to be amusing or even, at times, chilling.

Kneale’s stories are also linked by various other motifs, including weapons and arms dealing, violence and drugs. Without passing judgment or sounding preachy, Kneale presents various ironic situations in which the main character has committed a transgression which, if the character were able to view his or her life objectively, he or she would abhor.

Additionally, Kneale proves skillful in the use of irony when it comes to the punishments in his stories. The characters often find the punishments to be rewarding, which helps to develop unique characters with complex motivations.

It is Kneale’s ability to paint such interesting characters that allows the reader to sympathize with the transgressors, even if the reader were to find their crimes atrocious. Kneale’s adeptness at creating sympathetic characters even helps the reader sympathize with a potential suicide bomber.

This skillfulness at establishing sympathy for the characters is in part a result of Kneale’s insights into humanity. Characters are able to rationalize their misdeeds, even while complacent in others’ disturbing crimes, because of their removal from the situation.

Thus, the weapons manufacturer who sells to the heads of states, failing to make the connection between his sales and the police brutality he witnessed only a few days prior.

By taking the reader all over the world in his stories, from China to Colombia, Kneale creates a universality to his stories but avoids being too general by painting such fascinating characters and using precise language and detailed descriptions.

Time seems to slow to a standstill as Peter, the lawyer who begins to sell cocaine, walks his dog:

“First he stepped on the sidewalk, standing motionless like a mannequin as he stared with great concentration in the direction of a No Dumping sign. A plane flew overhead, catching him for an instant in the blink of its shadow.”

With such precise descriptions, interesting characters and insights into human nature, the biggest flaw of “Small Crimes” comes in the twists at the end of each story. Though definitely amusing, they can seem at times corny, and once the pattern of the story is recognized, some of the endings can become somewhat predictable and obvious.

Kneale’s stories, however, are well-told, engaging and droll enough to warrant reading. Even toward the end of “Small Crimes,” when one is able to predict the ironic development that leads to the resolution, the stories keep one absorbed.