The Longest Silence: A Life In Fishing

Rating:
Summary: This Life of Sport
Review: "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.

Rating:
Summary: smooth and satisfying
Review: 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".

Rating:
Summary: a winner!
Review: I am not a diehard fan of Tom McGuane's....but this book is hard to put down.....particularly if you love fly fishing and/or have been to any of the destinations he so beautifully describes and recaptures with incredible prose.....it is humorous, sad, beautiful, poignant,...a real literary gem. I read it from my library, but enjoyed it so much I am ordering several copies to give as gifts to special fishing friends, along with one for my fishing library. Thank you, Mr. McGuane!

Rating:
Summary: One of the best about the silence and joy of fly fishig
Review: Over the past 20 years I have fished great rivers, streams and oceans. True, this isn't about how to be an expert fly fisherman but more about how to appreciate the sport. The author captivates you from the start and gives a very personal touch to a very personal place and time. For those who have never tried or experienced fly fishing a stream in a secluded area or watched nature announce the arrival of salt water fish, this is a must read. Compared to many of the great writers on the subject, and there are many, this writer raises the bar and leaves you wanting more.

Rating:
Summary: Read the first half, throw away the second half.
Review: 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.