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3.95 AVERAGE
3.95 AVERAGE
I now know much more about fly fishing than I did previously.
This came to me through Annie Proulx's [b:Fen, Bog and Swamp|59366209|Fen, Bog and Swamp A Short History of Peatland Destruction and Its Role in the Climate Crisis|Annie Proulx|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1661964299l/59366209._SY75_.jpg|93537085], which I put down partway through so that I could read this and see what the fuss was about. In the edition I found, Proulx had written the introduction. Later, when I returned to her book, she repeated the story of the bobcat.
It's a neat novella that flows like a stream, creating a seamless unity across periods of time and changes of scene. Maclean's world feels real and true, the characters in it and the interpersonal challenges nuanced. The scene where the brothers return home and their mother butters Paul's bun for him is especially poignant: that complicated sibling feeling when you are not the one that needs help, or even wants that act of service, and don't resent the gesture either, but are simply aware of not occupying the same kind of attention. Because you are not in peril.
I haven't read the other two stories yet, but will return to them. The title story was my chief interest. I wasn't as haunted by it as I hoped, but it was still Good Writing.
This came to me through Annie Proulx's [b:Fen, Bog and Swamp|59366209|Fen, Bog and Swamp A Short History of Peatland Destruction and Its Role in the Climate Crisis|Annie Proulx|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1661964299l/59366209._SY75_.jpg|93537085], which I put down partway through so that I could read this and see what the fuss was about. In the edition I found, Proulx had written the introduction. Later, when I returned to her book, she repeated the story of the bobcat.
It's a neat novella that flows like a stream, creating a seamless unity across periods of time and changes of scene. Maclean's world feels real and true, the characters in it and the interpersonal challenges nuanced. The scene where the brothers return home and their mother butters Paul's bun for him is especially poignant: that complicated sibling feeling when you are not the one that needs help, or even wants that act of service, and don't resent the gesture either, but are simply aware of not occupying the same kind of attention. Because you are not in peril.
I haven't read the other two stories yet, but will return to them. The title story was my chief interest. I wasn't as haunted by it as I hoped, but it was still Good Writing.
dark
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Character
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
First read in a college class, 1989. Fell hard, as it spoke to biggest issue in my life at the time, "am I my brother's keeper?"
Read again and again, loved the movie despite feeling Norman was miscast. Read again most recently in January 2016 when I found none of the books I thought I "should" be reading---even the ones I want to be reading---could keep my attention. Consumed it in one day while taking down the Christmas decorations and making a pot roast dinner.
The conversation between Norman and his father. The small bits of his dialogue with his wife. So grateful for his later in life perspective, and the over-riding sense that, while we will all be haunted by the question Norman's father asked, we are part of something larger than any of us. And that we can love without understanding.
Read again and again, loved the movie despite feeling Norman was miscast. Read again most recently in January 2016 when I found none of the books I thought I "should" be reading---even the ones I want to be reading---could keep my attention. Consumed it in one day while taking down the Christmas decorations and making a pot roast dinner.
The conversation between Norman and his father. The small bits of his dialogue with his wife. So grateful for his later in life perspective, and the over-riding sense that, while we will all be haunted by the question Norman's father asked, we are part of something larger than any of us. And that we can love without understanding.
It was alright. Some lovely turns of phrase, and a clear passion for the wilderness.
This book is not really in my area of interest. The title story had some interesting insights into familial relationships but that was too buried under lengthy descriptions of fly fishing. The middle story was shorter and amusing. The last story was interesting but far too long. A good read if you enjoy a Hemingway vibe but not a personal favorite for me.
Keep an out out for my upcoming review on my blog: litandflicks.tumblr.com
Keep an out out for my upcoming review on my blog: litandflicks.tumblr.com
*Note, I only read A River Runs Through It*
I really liked this book. It was so short and peaceful, and it was really just calming to read. I don't have much else to talk about because there WASN'T much, but that's what I liked so much about it.
The only gripe I had with the novella is that I got a bit confused at points, but I'm not a fly fisherman, so that's to be understood.
I loved Norman, and I can't wait to watch the film. :)
I really liked this book. It was so short and peaceful, and it was really just calming to read. I don't have much else to talk about because there WASN'T much, but that's what I liked so much about it.
The only gripe I had with the novella is that I got a bit confused at points, but I'm not a fly fisherman, so that's to be understood.
I loved Norman, and I can't wait to watch the film. :)
I picked this one up hoping for some knockout nature imagery, and I was pretty disappointed. There were a couple lines that bordered on lyrical, but for the most part these stories were filled with ultra long lines packed with too many words. I suppose I must also admit that I was turned off by the tone in which the narrator describes some of the characters, though I suppose the stories are set in the 1930’s-ish. But treating women like objects and lumping Native Americans together as a conglomerate of “Indians” just doesn’t sit well with me, what can I say.
Despite the fact that MacLean’s average sentence length far exceeds that of Hemingway, I couldn’t help but think of good ‘ol Ernie while reading this. Maybe this is simply due to a purely basic similarity in their preoccupation with fishing, but there were a few other things that made me link the two together. Firstly, they feature this “manly” character who always is itching to prove his masculinity: dreaming of fistfights, longing for a fishing rod, falling in love with any woman who shows him a sliver of kindness, wanting to prove himself against anyone or anything who threatens him physically or intellectually, etc. Secondly, they both like to write around a problem or issue without ever putting a precise word to it. Maybe I’m just bad at reading between the lines, but for these stories, I felt like I was circling around something. Or to put it in some Montana metaphors: like I was making a large, swooping cast over the gurgling waters, straining my ears for an answer, only to have the rod slip from my hands and the line disappear fast and hard into the sunlight.
Despite the fact that MacLean’s average sentence length far exceeds that of Hemingway, I couldn’t help but think of good ‘ol Ernie while reading this. Maybe this is simply due to a purely basic similarity in their preoccupation with fishing, but there were a few other things that made me link the two together. Firstly, they feature this “manly” character who always is itching to prove his masculinity: dreaming of fistfights, longing for a fishing rod, falling in love with any woman who shows him a sliver of kindness, wanting to prove himself against anyone or anything who threatens him physically or intellectually, etc. Secondly, they both like to write around a problem or issue without ever putting a precise word to it. Maybe I’m just bad at reading between the lines, but for these stories, I felt like I was circling around something. Or to put it in some Montana metaphors: like I was making a large, swooping cast over the gurgling waters, straining my ears for an answer, only to have the rod slip from my hands and the line disappear fast and hard into the sunlight.
The most beautiful ending I have ever read. Linguistically stunning. It will take your breath away.
Several of the stories in this collection revolve around fishing, and all are keen insights into life in the West. More precisely, the lives of men, who work as ranch hands, cowboys, lumberjacks etc. Gems of details about a lifestyle that is disappearing, if not already gone.