All Fishermen Are Liars

January 27, 2014
A book from Gierach seems to have become a new rite of spring, something that can be scheduled and looked forward to like opening day for the avid fisherman. Probably the best-known and well-liked fly fishing writer around, Gierach won’t hurt his standing with this his 17th volume of essays. As usual, this isn’t a work for those looking to learn to cast or who want stories that brag about numbers or size of fish caught. Instead, Gierach muses on topics that are tangential to the actual act of fly fishing, like the pleasures of getting lost along a river, the mystery of steelhead flies, what makes a good rod, and the culture and subculture of fishing lodges. Of course, there is lots of fishing involved—interwoven with talk about relationships, work, nature, or travel, Gierach fishes in places like Montana, Wyoming, the Northwest Territories, and Newfoundland. Though the stories are similar to those in his previous works, Gierach’s mischievous sense of humor and profound sense of good fortune that he gets to fish for a living make this another must-read for anyone—anglers and non-anglers—thanks to Gierach’s playful and poetic prose, which brings to life such contemplative endeavors.

March 1, 2014
Passionate angler Gierach (No Shortage of Good Days, 2012, etc.) once again trolls for like-minded readers. In his 17th book on fishing, it remains "all about the fish and the beautiful places they live." Gierach tells of going after elusive aquatic wildlife with rod and reel, lure and spoon, hook and hackle in such attractive precincts as Michigan's Upper Peninsula, Wyoming's North Platte, remote Labrador and frigid Manitoba, as well as at home in Colorado. Serious camping with knowledgeable outfitters, erudite guides, stoic lodge keepers and proficient companions fills his trip logs. The author also provides notes on fishing etiquette and stream hydrology, and he seems to remember every cast and every one that got away. He writes convincingly of trying to outwit cutthroats, rainbows and steelhead. The writer's single-minded devotion to his fisherman's M.O. in those pretty mountain streams naturally won't mean much to piscatorial agnostics who never had the pleasure of outsmarting a trout in its home environs. With rhapsodic prose about "a small hare's ear and partridge soft hackle," "fifty-pound fluorocarbon shock tippets," and "an old Burkheimer rod loaded with a 550-grain Skagit head, a two-foot cheater, ten feet of T-14 sink tip and a four-inch-long Intruder fly with big lead eyes," all this is reserved for the legions of devout anglers. Certainly, there are many sweet, folksy passages on ichthyology and the cultural anthropology of those folks who take so happily to the outdoor life, yet the book remains primarily a fisherman's testimony to the faithful. "Even on those rare days when you trudge off to a trout stream not so much because you want to, but because your livelihood depends on it," writes Gierach, "you have a better day at the office than most." Elegiac tribute to the elusive art and ineffable pleasure of fly-fishing, with plenty of information about how it's done by true practitioners.

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Starred review from April 1, 2014
In his seventeenth book, Gierach, who gave us the term trout bum, describes North American trout and salmon fishing in all seasonsfrom Atlantic salmon in Newfoundland, through Chinook salmon in Pacific estuaries, and on to trout fishing across the American West. An engaging autobiographical introduction opens the book, which includes 22 perceptive and witty essays, recalling numerous fishing trips and offering insights on fly rods and fly patterns. Among the many highlights are Tenkara, in which the author examines a new fly-fishing technique from Japan, and Montana, which delivers an appealing take on a mainstay in angling literature, the almost mystical experience of catching many fish in a secret fishing hole. These lyrical essays explode with descriptions of beautiful places, big fish, and beautiful fish (brook trout from a lake in winter so brilliant that they seemed to be lit from within ). But Gierach can write about more than trout and salmon. Among the fish, there are reflections on Zen, some musing on Sun Tzu, and spot-on cameos from Richard Russo and James Crumley.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2014, American Library Association.)