“Extensively embellished with engravings in copper and wood from original paintings and drawings by first-rate artists, to which are added an introductory essay; the Linnaean arrangement if the various river fish delineated in the work and illustrative notes. ( )

Let’s get real here: y’all know I only read this book because of the pictures… But I did give it a decent try and made it about 30 pages before the inane ramblings of the author’s frame story protagonist made me start flipping pages at speed, searching for illustrations and illustrations alone. Being originally published in 1676 and ostensibly being a practical book meant to educate the amateur angler, I was a bit surprised that Arthur Rackham, one of England’s leading illustrators of children’s books, took on this commission. But, then again, he was a pretty typical Englishman of his time, and country pursuits were a popular pastime (or curiosity) for many. Having skipped the story further than its introductory chapters, many of the illustrations lacked narrative context, but I nonetheless appreciated Rackham’s typical care in treatment of his subject matter. Gone may be his whimsically twisted trees from the landscape, but a few hobgoblins still crept into the marginalia and chapter-heading sketches! Careful linework brings his illustrations to life (no matter how small or apparently inconsequential the image), and he tries out varying styles of silhouettes, straight lines, and shadow work throughout the story to much success. Rounding out the collection with a smattering of full-colour watercolour pieces in trademark tea-stained washes, this publication may actually be a more well-rounded exploration of his range of styles than many of Rackham’s other sets of work! I may not be particularly entranced with the mundane fisherman’s subject matter, but I will give him credit for tackling his subject with typical style and throwing in a few beautifully done pieces of black and white line art that shouldn’t be ignored by any Rackham fan. ( )

More than I wanted to know about fishing in early modern England.

I know I read it, and certainly I struggled with it at times, and thoroughly enjoyed other bits. I just don't remember it well enough to rate it.

First of all must come Izaak Walton, who "studied to be quiet" in times almost as troubled as our own. I have him in several editions but I am sure that anyone who does not already know him should make a point of meeting him first in the World's Classics where is John Buchan's admirable introduction to Walton and Cotton together. There are plenty of other editions, but John Buchan makes this my favourite, though I should be sorry to be without the charming brown-leather-jerkined facsimile of the first edition of The Compleat Angler published (a noble act of piety) by A. and C. Black, to whom fishermen owe so much. Here it is, the little brown dumpling of a book just as it slipped modestly into existence, in St. Dunstan's churchyard in Fleet Street in 1653, that critical, stirring year of the Commonwealth, four years after Charle the First had been beheaded, the year of the dissolution of the Long Parliament, six years before the Restoration, and yet a year when Piscator could stretch his legs up Totnam Hill to go fishing by Ware "this fine pleasant fresh May day in the morning".

Arthur Ransome, Fishing (1955), pp. 10-11.

This English classic is known, at least by name, to nearly everyone. Is it a textbook on fishing? Yes, but it is much more than that. Written as a dialog between the Angler and various country folk such as shepherds, farmers and milkmaids, the instructions on catching fish are interspersed with a delightful hodge-podge of rural anecdotes, character studies, moral lessons, recipes, songs and poetry. The practice of angling is portrayed as practically the perfect occupation, teachings as it does the skills of reasoning and observation of Nature together with the virtues of patience and harmony. The second author listed after Walton, Charles Cotton, was his adopted son who was a skilled fisherman in his own right. Cotton wrote the section on fly-fishing as Walton had little knowledge of that area.

Considering this was first published in 1653 the language is fun to stumble over; full of 'methinks,' 'thee,' 'tis,' that sort of thing. At first blush I would have said this is a nonfiction story of three gentlemen walking through the countryside bragging about their respective "hobbies." One man is a falconer, all about the birds. Another man is a hunter, primed for the kill. The third man is, of course, the fisherman, the angler. It is this man we learn the most from (hence the title of the book). There is a great deal more to the story - an 17th century "how-to" on cooking, inn-keeping, religion, poetry and the like, but I got incredibly bored and gave up halfway through.
As a postscript, I did enjoy the illustrations by Boyd Hanna in my undated edition. ( )

I have long loved this book, and it is well worth noting that the illustrations, in this edition, are by Arthur Rackham. ( )

I'm not the slightest bit interested in fishing, but love this for its ramblings about all sorts of other matters, and the delightful descriptions of how to cook your catch when you get home, or repair to the local inn.

You probably should enjoy fishing, nature, or English cultural history to really enjoy this book, but if you do, it's easy to love this book. Walden keeps his eye on the subject at hand (fishing, if you didn't get it from the title), but manages to work into this 'instruction' book a bit of 17th century 'science', manners, cooking, and a general picture of how it could be for a gentleman on a outing into the countryside.

An enjoyable read, and the antique English adds to the experience, rather than getting in the way.

Os. ( )

"Among all your quaint readings did you ever light upon Walton's Complete Angler? I asked you the question before [June, 1796]; It breathes the very spirit of innocence, purity, and simplicity of heart; there are many choice old verses interspersed in it; it would sweeten a man's temper at any time to read it; it would Christianise every discordant angry passion; pray make yourself acquainted with it."
Lamb to Coleridge Oct. 28, 1796.

Deipnosophistical interest, and gentle Menippean raillery of a society which considers everything more important than fishing and yet has discovered very few better things to do. —Frye

"Study to be quiet." ( )

Someone please tell me why the National Council of Teachers of English based the theme of one of its conventions on this musty thing. ( )