Customer Reviews

The Longest Silence

5 star:		(23)
4 star:		(2)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

"You can't say enough about fishing; but that won't stop me," Tom McGuane wrote half a lifetime ago. He has quite a lot, indeed, to say about fishing. In "The Longest Silence," his precision of language and love of sport conjoin in a life's body of fishing essays.

McGuane is the angler we all hope to emualte. As for imitating his writing, well, lower your head, shake it and smile--it ain't happenin', bro--not in this life. And, of course, this book is nothing short of genius.

If you follow sporting writing in general and McGuane in particular few of the entries in this collection will be new to you, especially the seminal title piece: "What is most emphatic in angling is made so by the long silences---the unproductive periods." Not a problem. Few of us keep our old issues of Sports Illustrated, Men's Journal, Esquire or Sports Afield--rather, we look to compilations such as these to round out our collections. Besides, these essays are only fully appreciated after multiple (re)readings.

If McGuane is a new discovery to you, well, I can only envy you. His fiction--bought, borrowed or stolen--must be read; it is among the finest this country has to offer late in our century.

It's hard to imagine but there are probably those who enjoy McGuane's fiction but are not familiar with his sporting prose. At any rate these writings, many collected here--are without equal. Be McGuane's sporting work new, savor it. If, however, you find it familiar, then let in the dogs, light the fire, build a drink and dig in. It doesn't get any better than this.

Highly, completely and without reservation recommended. Buy this book, read it, cherish it, tell a friend.

In this latest effort Thomas McGuane easily proves that he is one of the preeminent writers on fishing today, and for that matter of our century. THE LONGEST SILENCE covers a life of fishing ranging from his youthful remembrances of fishing the trout streams of Michigan to more recent experiences pursuing the game fish of the oceans. McGuane combines a dazzling language and style with a real knowledge of the intricacies of the art to produce some of the best prose on angling I've encountered, equalling and bettering that of Harry Middleton, Ted Leeson, and Russell Chatham. This is truly a fine book.

It is unusual to find an author of a fishing book who is as fluent with words as he is with a fly rod. In probability, The Longest Silence will disappoint many diehard anglers anxious for 'how to' or 'where to' information. But it will delight those who relish good writing.

Drenched in atmosphere and with a warmth that glows like the embers of a campfire, this book is about the fishing, rather than the fish. Haunting, mesmerising and tremendously readable, The Longest Silence is a piece of literature that will become a fishing classic. It has been criticized for McGuane's affection for high-cost fishing holes and there may well be some merit in this, but it is the writing and not the locations that generates the fascination.

It's nice to read a fisherman/writer who's more interested in the experience than in the pounds-per-day and the gadgetry, and takes the time to understand how flyfishing fits into larger patterns of his life. Adding to that, some of the sentences and phrasings alone are worth the price of the book. I can't agree with him that longer rods necessarily translate to tailing loops, but that's a mere quibble. Sure, some of what he relates is jet-set fishing, with a guide putting him on the fish, but he's dead honest about the experience, de-romanticizing much of it, if anything, and appreciating his guides as characters. Those who enjoy McGuane would enjoy NORTH BANK: Claiming a Place on the Rogue, another crafted and thoughtful look at flyfishing in a larger frame.

There are many good books on flyfishing, but only a very few that make it to great. This is one of the latter. For this book, McGuane received the coveted Roderick Haig-Brown Award for Literature from the Federation of Fly Fishers. The Longest Silence is the finest book on fly fishing that I have read. The style of a novelist is brought fully to these pages, offering a wonderful sense of place that all successful novelists must have. For this died in the wool trout fisherman, even the title essay, which is on permit fishing, was a wonderful read. I have never seen a permit, have no strong desire to catch one, and probably will never try, but even that essay on a subject so foreign to me, rang as true as any essay can. McGuane's talent is absolutely marvellous!

McGuane's angling essays in The Longest Silence should appeal to both the sporting and non-sporting public. Hot-blooded writing swirls his decades of experiences into a landing net of honest, from-the-heart prose that speak well for appreciating Mother Nature -- the natural world. Once you finish his collection, add to your reading the classic book LIFE WITH NOAH, a posthumous memoir of Richard Smith,an Adirondack mountain fisherman, outdoorsman who was befriended by Noah John Rondeau, a hermit who lived in the Cold River valley from the 1920s until his death in the late 1960s. Both fished for their survival, for the love of the sport and had no greater respect for woodland animals and nature's importance to an individual's inner peace.

When McGuane writes of his home waters, his prose is crystalline and his thoughts, and our responses, are direct and illuminating. Alas, as the first half of the book ends (with the eponymous essay), McGuane suddenly begins flying us all over the world with his rich, often sodden, often depressing fish-snob buddies. In these later essays, his prose sinks as brand names enter the essays. He begins to collect rivers as trophies (the essays about Russia and Labrador are particularly bathetic). Though McGuane asks for absolution for his fishing faults (including helicopter rides to steelhead pools), I'm not sure that readers (or rivers) should grant it. My advice? One: read the first half of the book to understand the power of local knowledge and the joys of home water. Two: throw away the second half of the book, unless you enjoy reveling in disillusion. Three: join your local conservation groups and work, work, work to save your local waters, rather than flying your carcass off to the ends of the earth to catch (and brag about catching) that last wild fish.

I came upon this book from a friend on a fishing trip to Baja. McGuane's crystalline dissection of fishing personalities and motivations are as crisp as his deep knowledge of fishing. It actually affected how I fished... I agree that the first half of the book is in bulk superior to the latter half, though his descriptions of 70s Key West was just perfect (I grew up in SoFL). His salt water bravado tales are oddly set against his erudite stream fishing tales. Anyone who fishes will love this book, anyone who does not fish may leave with a better sense of the madness. McGuane succeeds in writing about fishing so well that he makes Hemmingway's attempts seem crude and unknowing.

Fishermen will find this a fine blend of literary expression and fishing lore: The Longest Silence tells of one man's pursuit of a variety of sporting fishes, his world-wide fishing excursions and adventures, and his opinions on everything from gear to fisherman lying and habits. A fine reflective piece will attract any who long for a good book to read while fishing.

I am adding The Longest Silence to my list of favorite books on the subject of fly fishing. I do believe that some thoughts are too deep for words. But McGuane's words dive deeper than any book I've ever read. I admit, as a life long Michigan resident, that the first chapter based on the Pere Marquette River hooked me. But, as I read I realized that whether he wrote about Michigan, or Montana, or Argentina that the location is not what it's all about. It's about the long silent moments. Everything else "has nothing to do with the necessity but rather with the elaboration of the dream that is fishing".