River Songs is rich with bracing, authentic, generous stories--writing that revels in language and spirit. Avoiding most of fly fishing’s clichés--the romantic elegies, the Moby-Dick-like conquests, the play-by-play detailing a "victory" over a fish-- Steve Duda instead offers pieces that breathe lived experience, reveal vulnerabilities, and convey a broad perspective of what it means to have "a long run with a tight crew." Duda is interested in what has been learned out there on the river: what is it about this "ridiculous activity" that connects us to this planet, makes us human, gives us hope?
River Songs focuses on the in-between moments and the unexpected revelations--awe, fear, frustration, doubt, joy--that are as much a part of fishing as tying knots and chucking flies. Readers ride along with Duda in battered pickup trucks, fish "between jobs," look longingly at unfished famous rivers while touring with a country-punk band, and wonder how a fishing trip led to getting a tooth pulled while being surrounded by trash-talking friends. They will find beauty, discovery, heartbreak, good dogs, and the wonder of nature within the expanse of Northwest landscapes and beyond.
I don't fly fish but I think anyone that thinks sitting on a riverbank watching clouds pass overhead is an excellent way to spend your time would enjoy this collection of stories by author Steve Duda. He includes a variety of locations as well as the travails of traveling in his stories, and I enjoyed his tale of fishing in Argentina. He describes his cohort of fisherman as "Fly anglers, you can spot them from a mile away: slow walkers ambling through airports in expensive sunglasses, dingy ball caps, and flip-flops. Unshaven, uncombed, and a bit feral, they look like they’ve just woken up with creaky knees, a dusting of dog hair, and oversized plans for the day." His writing reminds me a bit of Hunter S. Thompson, maybe it's the clarity of vision.
It’s easy to forget why we first came to the river with a fly rod; we get consumed by counting numbers of fish, comparing ourselves to anglers, or what epic hatch or big fish we’re missing out on based on who we follow on social media. We can easily lose the connection we feel for the places and people that give us so much joy and wonder and, even at times, frustration. Steve Duda, in River Songs: Moments of Wild Wonder in Fly Fishing, his first collection of essays, reminds us with attentive care to language and gloriously boisterous storytelling, why we keep coming back to rivers — to be part of a family of anglers that love the mysteries of river bends and deep friendships built around plunge pools and campfires.
In the opening essay, “Lessons,” Duda writes that “fly fishing isn’t just one thing…” which he, with great prose and a knack for setting the hook at just the right moment, shows us on each of the following pages. This book isn’t just a collection of fishing stories — it’s an exploration on what it means to be a good human, a steward of this world, and how “...a ridiculous activity like fly fishing can help us to be a generous friend, point us toward excellence, and encourage a profound and abiding love for this planet…”. Reading this collection is as joyful as catching brook trout on Parachute Adams in May, but it’s also heady stuff that asks us to think about why we do what we do, where we come from, and how humans and rivers and fish all influence and impact each other. Duda is a philosophizer as much as he is a bard, and I’ll sit around any fire he’s at spinning his yarns.
Each chapter is separated by a “river song” that always seems to veer into the poetic. These “songs” are beautiful little odes to flies we plucked out of our hats, all the glorious fragrances of steelhead such as “armpit, ash, ass, bacon, baked beans, Band-Aids, bar floor,” barracuda who smell like “cucumbers splashed with lemon,” a one-sided conversation with a steelhead-swinging bourbon-sipping sage, and even a sing along to “Pressure Drop” after landing a bonefish. Each song has its own melody, but each reminds us why we go to the stream, and what a life without fly fishing would be; “Imagine not fishing. Imagine no road trips. No old pals. No fires.” With similar energy and love of the lyrical as the great Brian Doyle, Duda creates a rollicking rhythm and pace for this book by gathering unique insights and observations from his lifetime of fishing.
Duda shows time and time again that fly fishing is indeed not just about catching fish, but the people, places, ecologies, and histories that make up every watershed we explore. “Ghosts” is as much about carp fishing as it is a history lesson about dams, the Lewis & Clark Expedition, and the flies that carp love. His descriptions are keen, biting, and staggeringly honest. On a long trip to Patagonia where he somehow has angered the fishing gods, feels “...like a nasty strip of carpet lying by the highway…”, and bananas have mysteriously found their way onto the boat, Duda captures the hell we have all been in as anglers where everything that could go wrong seemingly does. Yet, in the end, we find ourselves “in the middle of nothing, in the middle of everything,” because that’s where fly fishing, thankfully, takes us.
“It Pleases Me, Loving Rivers” is a love song, to Port Angeles where “everyone fishes” and where Duda spends a whole season trying to “find” Raymond Carver, who lived there until he was diagnosed with cancer, passing away just a year later after moving just outside of town. With the same ease as throwing a roll cast, Duda takes us from a simple story about a “fishing” town and out into a deep river of literary criticism, biography, and meditation on fly fishing as escapism. This piece explores our need for and love of distractions, and takes us into the dark waters where we finally understand that “sometimes even fishing cannot save us from the unfortunate events that life deals.”
Duda is able to make anything into a lesson on humanity and how-to-be-a-good angler without ever coming across as didactically dogmatic. We read these essays for the same reason we go fishing with a good buddy, because it’s a great way to spend time and hopefully learn something new about the world or ourselves. One of my favorite essays, “Burning Pram,” considers the fact that “ultimately, we all fish alone,” so we are stuck with the relentless chattering of our brains. Yet fishing somehow knocks us out of our own way. When we go to the water, we begin to listen, to notice. This essay, for me, feels like an exemplification of that great Mary Oliver quote: “Attention is the beginning of devotion.” Yes, we go to the rivers to catch fish, but to really fish, we must find those moments that free us enough from our daily doldrums to rejoice in a communal experience with others and the vibrant lives around us. This is what constitutes “real life;” sharing love and joy. Ultimately, Duda realizes, when we fish, we inevitably find community and “...go to awesome places with our friends and make friends with places that are awesome.” Yes, yes we do.
Steve Duda is a master storyteller and these essays are full of his unique humor and sharp wit. River Songs is a book, much like Russell Chatham’s Dark Waters, that I’ll always keep in my truck so I can read it while sitting on my tailgate eating an Italian sub waiting for sulphurs to hatch. It’ll be the book I give to all my fishing buddies for their birthdays, it’ll be the book I return to again and again to remind myself why I spend so much of this life staring at blue lines on maps and sitting next to a good friend streamside trying to read something as mysterious and elusive as water.
Steve Duda has been around a long time. He's written for many of the top fishing magazines in the world. And has fished in many, many amazing places. Now he's put together many of his stories into a book. And what a book it is! Easily readable, very well written, and fun. The man is a natural storyteller. And that's just after I read the book. I had the honor of attending a book signing of his, just outside of Seattle, where he read several chapters of the book. Duda's voice, cadence, tone, and inflections just blew me away! Wow. Then the moderator of the book announced that Duda will be releasing shortly an audio version of him reading the book! That should be an absolute best seller and must have. I'm telling you, if you listen to him reading "Steelhead as a Fragrance", you will laugh harder than you thought possible! What a great book!
“River Songs” by Steve Duda is a collection of the author’s river stories, highlighting various rivers he has fished and insights into river history and conservation. The stories illustrate how important rivers are, and their majesty, as well as the authors personal journey through life whilst fly fishing.
I received a free ARC via NetGalley for this book. Thank you to NetGalley, publisher and author!
For a fisherman - particularly one from the Pacific Northwest like me - this is just a wonderful collection of reflections on the adventures and joys of fly-fishing in the wild. Some of these places I know well (particularly those in Washington and Montana), some I have explored - but nearly all the stories caused me to smile. Of course I immediately sent copies to some fisherman friends. Thanks for another great recommend, Doug!
Outstanding. Duda nails it – the experience of fly-fishing, the culture that has formed around it, the things we go through to catch a trout. His writing is clear and crisp, his stories ranging from pursuit of common carp to legendary rivers of Scotland. Fly-fishing is a way to experience the natural world, but Duda doesn't forget that most of us fish for fun, and that one of the most important things we bring to our craft is a sense of humor.
I am by no means a fishing expert - I can’t even bait my own hook. But I do spend a lot of my free time and obsession with being in the outdoors. Observing and learning about the natural world is interesting and why I enjoyed this book. It is nice to hear how a fisherman interacts with nature on a different level and in many areas of the world. Fittingly, I mostly read this book outside sitting by a lake, a creek or in my hammock.
Excellent writing-- beautiful, lyrical, but still accessible. The writing is technically lovely: sentences vary, there's no repetition, the language is delightful. Inter-chapter interludes are artsy-er, little experiments at other styles-- a nice inclusion of something more experimental.
Fishing isn't the point of the book, it's just the doorway to get to all these stories about natural places and the people there. Topics range widely among nature, history, friendship, ecology, and more. The writing captures many locations at this moment: the author is aware climate and other factors may change how these places look, and soon. Native uses of spaces and relevant cultural practices are included, respectfully and authentically, not performatively.
I recommended this book because of the unique flavor of modern masculinity-- outdoorsy, in the dirt sometimes, not overly social, but not afraid to cry, observant, heartfelt, brave when it counts, brave with people, brave with the heart.
A great choice for book groups and a strong possibility for One Book One Community reads, especially in Eastern Washington and Oregon and in Idaho and Western Montana.