Looking back on a lifetime of great fishing, the British angler shares his fondest memories of fly fishing in the chalk streams, spate rivers, and lochs of his native country.
Like Joe T my copy of this book is simply called Fly Fishing by J R Hartley, perhaps they changed the title later on because this copy certainly goes back to the early 90's which is when I first read it. Putting aside the hype from the Yellow Pages adverts this is a good read made up of short stories with fly fishing as a background. You certainly don't need to be an angler to enjoy it. Pick up a copy if you get a chance.
I’ve long loved the original printing of this book, but I confess I was surprised to find that a particular paragraph I remembered with great fondness was abridged from this edition.
It went something like:
“There is a stretch of the Otter just below the stone bridge at Upottery where I’ve always had quiet sport… No doubt time moves on, but the river is not much concerned with that sort of thing.”
I wonder if my memory is playing tricks on me. Either way, its absence feels oddly poignant. Still, what remains is gentle and true—measured, observant, and content to let silence do most of the work.
One of those pieces of literature that could surely be written only in England. It's a fictional memoir that is funny enough to make me laugh out loud and short enough to keep me from tiring. The author was (supposedly) a midcentury Englishman who avoided the war by becoming a teacher at a second-rate boys' school. His real love, however, was fishing. The escapades are more or less nonstop. The fly fishing wisdom is very specific. The humor is, of course, very dry.
If you happen to come across this book, pick it up and read a chapter. You shan't be disappointed.
A very English book. Quirky, clever, at times laugh out loud funny. Amazingly, it was inspired by a Yellow Pages ad on British television where "JR Hartley" is trying to find a copy of "Fly Fishing by JR Hartley". So someone created a book to match, and this is it. A fun, quick, light read, with an interesting central character. Recommended as a better than average way to pick up a quick book for your Reading Challenge count.
The first four chapters are intensely charming and effortlessly hilarious, with a marked James Herriot-like flavor. Disappointingly, the rest of the book is oddly disjointed and curiously unfunny, and the stories are marred by the peculiar British interest in making social occasions of fishing outings. I suppose that, as an American, I just like my fishing more solitary.