An extraordinary journey across the magnificent, delinquent coast of Newfoundland and Labrador.
John Gimlette’s journey across this harsh and awesome landscape, the eastern extreme of the Americas, broadly mirrors that of Dr Eliot Curwen, his great-grandfather, who spent a summer there as a doctor in 1893, and who was witness to some of the most beautiful ice and cruelest poverty in the British Empire. Using Curwen’s extraordinarily frank journal, John Gimlette revisits the places his great-grandfather encountered and along the way explores his own links with this harsh, often brutal, land.
At the heart of the book however, are the “outporters,” the present-day inhabitants of these shores. Descended from last-hope Irishmen, outlaws, navy deserters and fishermen from Jersey and Dorset, these outporters are a warm, salty, witty and exuberant breed. They often speak with the accent and idioms of the original colonists, sometimes Shakespearean, sometimes just plain impenetrable. Theirs is a bizarre story; of houses (or “saltboxes”) that can be dragged across land or floated over the sea; of eating habits inherited from seventeenth-century sailors (salt beef, rum pease-pudding and molasses;) of Labradorians sealed in ice from October to June; of fishing villages that produced a diva to sing with Verdi; and of their own illicit, impromptu dramatics, the Mummers.
This part-history-part-travelogue exploration of Newfoundland and Labrador’s coast and culture by a well-established travel writer is a glorious read to be enjoyed by both armchair tourist, and anyone contemplating a visit to Canada’s far-eastern shores.
John Gimlette was born in 1963. At seventeen, he crossed the Soviet Union by train and has since travelled to over 60 countries. In 1982, on the eve of the Falklands War, he was working on an estancia in Argentina. He returned to England via Paraguay and Bolivia to read law at Cambridge.
In 1997, he won the Shiva Naipaul Memorial Prize with ‘Pink Pigs in Paraguay’, which was published in The Spectator in May of that year. The following year he won the Wanderlust Travel Writing competition.
He is a regular contributor to a number of British broadsheets, including The Daily Telegraph, Times and The Guardian travel sections. He also contributes to other travel titles, including the Conde Nast Traveller and Wanderlust. His travel photographs have appeared in the Telegraph, Wanderlust and Geographical.
His first book was At the Tomb of the Inflatable Pig, which is described as a 'vivid, riotous journey into the heart of South America' (see the Reviews page). His second book, Theatre of Fish, set in Newfoundland and Labrador, was published in 2005.
Both books were nominated by The New York Times as being among the ‘100 Notable Books of the Year’.
John Gimlette’s third book was Panther Soup, which followed a wartime journey through France, Germany and Austria, comparing the battlefields of 1944-45 with what can be found there today.
He lives in London where he practices as a barrister. He is married to TV presenter, Jayne Constantinis, and they have one daughter.
This travelogue took me on a fascinating journey along the coasts of Newfoundland and Labrador and into the cultural, economic, and environmental histories of the northern corners of North America. Be forewarned, however, Mr. Gimlette sugar-coated nothing; this was not a romp for tourists or those initially (like me) disillusioned by the rugged beauty of the island landscape. The generational suffering and daily struggles persist still for the residents and Native Americans who call this land home. The language in this book was as beautiful and haunting as the rocky coastline and I enjoyed every page. A+
I strongly believe there should be a "half star" rating, so I can give this a three and a half. It was good, really interesting to read, but it was one of those books that took me forrrrrever to finish (actually, it also took me a really long time to finish Gimlette's other book, "At the Tomb of the Inflatable Pig"). Maybe it's that I have a hard time with travel writing. This book is great in that it gives a ton of history about a place I literally knew nothing about - perhaps the problem I had is that the author assumed too much knowledge on my part? More reference to the bigger picture is needed (where, exactly, he was in Newfoundland or Labrador when writing a specific part would have been extremely helpful, as I kept forgetting and had no sense of place). Also, he's a bit of a dramatic writer, and there's a little too much use of the cliffhanger-sentence-to-show-upcoming-drama technique. Parts were also boring. But overall, this book was an extremely interesting read, and I'm glad I read it.
One of my all time favorite books. It's the dark and often mind blowingly bizarre, funny and tragic history of Newfoundland and Labrador. I'm gonna read it again as soon as I get through the huge pile of books I obsessively collect. I cannot recommend this book enough. It will capture your imagination and break your heart and you will find yourself checking airfare prices for Newfoundland. It's a place all must see.
Thus far, all three books I have read by John Gimlette have been wild and crazy rides to strange places. Theatre of Fish: Travels Through Newfoundland and Labrador deals with a part of Atlantic Canada that is far off the tourist routes; yet the author is linked to them through his great grandfather, Dr Elliot Curwen, whose tale he tells along with that of Sir Wilfred Grenfell, a medical missionary to the area.
Like the other books by Gimlette I have read -- At the Tomb of the Inflatable Pig: Travels Through Paraguay and Wild Coast about former British, French, and Dutch Guiana in South America -- this one led me along by the nose to a number of odd locations in which some highly original and isolated people lived. I have read his Paraguay book twice now and would, if I can swing it, spend some time there to see the country for myself.
By my reckoning, Gimlette is one of the best travel writers alive, on a par with Paul Theroux and Colin Thubron. He even approaches the late Bruce Chatwin, author of In Patagonia.
I’m giving this one four stars for the writing and the research, but I have many reservations about it. I agree with other critics that we heard too much about his great-grandfather’s earlier travels, considering they weren’t really very interesting. My main complaint however is that the author is so negative about everything, and leaves the impression that Newfoundland and Labrador is one of the worst (and least interesting places on earth) - which I don’t think was his intent. He’s so determined to prove his thesis that Newfoundland is a ‘Theatre of fish’ that every person he encounters becomes a stereotype. When he writes about American gratitude to the people of Gander after 9/11, he says it still causes him to question his own gratitude: “I can hardly remember being so generously treated before, especially by a people who had so little to be grateful for themselves.” It would have been a better book if he’d shown that aspect more often.
The author, a Brit, follows the same route around Newfoundland that his great grandfather took in the 1890s. Some good yarns are included about explorers- Gilbert, Cabot and Cooke- that passed this way. Gimlette is able to get the Newfoundlanders he meets talking-not exactly difficult- and their colorful language and straight talk is entertaining. I got bogged down in the chapter on Labrador- the longest of the book- as economic devastation and Inuit poverty made for depressing reading. The author is prickly. He decides that L'Anse aux Meadows was never reached by Vikings based on the hearsay of one local it seems. I'll stick with the science. He is also determinedly anti-Canadian based on what it is hard to say. Good review of Smallwood's dictatorship. In sum a lot of good stuff here but not without its irritations.
Lengthy historical and travel tome about Newfoundland and Labrador, heavy on personal history and has a great deal about the more famous Newfoundlanders and how they shaped the colony's past; unfortunately, there wasn't enough about the province's present. For most of history, cod ruled supreme here, and hundreds of years prior to Columbus the Grand Banks were known for their fish. The first description dates to 1436. Interesting sidelights about how the Irish, the Scots and the Portuguese shaped the development of the colony turned Canadian province. Uses a great amount of "Newfoundland English" and a helpful glossary is included. It's very detailed about the history of Newfoundland and Labrador, most of which I didn't know, in relation to the struggles with France over control, and then its status as a colony, in which cod was king and land settlement and farming were prohibited. Not originally part of Canada, Newfoundland and its poor cousin Labrador went it alone after 1867, reveling in its cod production. When the cod fishery initially collapsed in 1921, the colony was thrown into penury and destitution. Bad policies by subsequent governments followed, and in 1932, Newfoundland's prime minister had to flee the parliament when a mob broke in. The saving grace was World War II, when the United States was given bases and initiated a huge build up of Air Force personnel which funneled huge amounts of money and jobs into the economy. Next came federation in 1949 with Canada under the direction of Joey Smallwood, Newfoundland's premier for its first 23 years. Smallwood wanted to change the economy from fish-driven to manufacturing, and ruled more like a dictator than democratic Canada might like to admit. One feature of his premiership was the abandonment of remote "outports" which had few services and little transportation access. Prevalent in the 1950s and 1960s, Newfoundland and Labrador's remote coasts are full of "ghost ports" which once sustained fishing families.
Gimlette meets a lot of people and has personal history in Newfoundland, his ancestors having had history there. He spends a lot of time in the remote outports which still suffer from poverty and isolation. His trip to Labrador chronicles the alcoholism, poverty and disaffection of the native population. The history of Newfoundland and Labrador in reference to the Native peoples is very dark, indeed. Interesting chapters discuss the discovery of the Viking settlement at La Aux Meadows, the terrible outrages that occurred at the St. Vincent's Orphanage and the shipwreck of two American naval ships during World War II where ordinary Newfoundlanders saved the lives of many sailors and were never forgotten. A very good part deals with the meeting of Churchill and Roosevelt aboard naval ships in 1941 to create the Atlantic Charter. It is a very fine book about a little known and often hidden place.
I dreaded starting this book. I picked it up at a book sale because I don't think too many books are out there about Labrador. It started with poor writing and boring material about the Grenfell family and their family tree. It was not so interesting finding out what each one of them did before and after their Labrador visits and I couldn't tell whether the author was talking sometimes about England. Once the author started traveling Newfoundland and Labrador it got interesting. It sounds like a lot of rocks, poor soil, wild animals, and ice bergs that continue to make even ferry journeys incredibly dangerous. The people all sound a bit crazy or inbred or maybe both to be living there. Obviously, the main industry has always been fishing. There were loads of territorial disputes between the British and French and at times they shared the island with a handful of islands still under French control. After the fisheries collapsed in the 1970's most of the population started receiving payments from Ottawa, such as welfare or the "dole". Labrador is a slightly different story. If I thought Newfoundland was a depressing place, then Labrador is its gloomy, blood stained cousin. The author too several trips along the coast up north. The Natives there suffered much the same as in the USA. They no longer have the natives skills of boating or treating hides, etc. Their traditional way of life has been replaced with settlements and 75% of them are alcoholics. The town of Nain suffered the most as it has a grotesquely high murder and suicide rate. The government reacted "with panic, lavishing its policies with money and confusion. More social workers appeared and missionaries but the answers eluded them." Finally the concluded that "having come to Nain to understand why so many people are committing suicide the greater lesson is to understand why so many chose life." Of course these populations are but a fraction of what they once were before Europeans arrived. Entire tribal peoples no longer exist like the Beothuk of Newfoundland who were literally hunted to extinction like big game trophy hunters. Many were kidnapped and taken to Europe to be on display for money and most of course died from European diseases. However, the author does talk about amazing scenery and cheery people-mainly in Newfoundland. On the south coast which is mostly French he came to a almost vertical town called Francois. It is a miracle of a town that the ferries get to by sailing through a crack in the cliffs that opens up into a concealed bay surrounded by tall cliffs. Overall, it would surely be an adventure to visit. The chance to see polar bears, ice bergs and go between English and French towns along the coast seems quaint. It is a pretty overlooked part of the world.
ABANDONED. I don’t normally quit a book once I’ve read far enough to commit to reading it. I wasn’t sure if it was me or the book. I had to go to community reviews to help me find expression for my dissatisfaction. The book is structured around the author’s family history with a missionary doctor ancestor and his inspiration. While I found that dull and uninteresting, I didn’t feel it was a legitimate criticism. Following his ancestors journey was the raison d’etre of the whole book. I did find his explorations through history and landscape both confusingly and tediously presented. If this was my first and only exposure to Newfoundland I would never want to go there and I do. That is my raison d’etre for reading the book to begin with. One reviewer said the book gave no sense of place which must be the kiss of death for travel writing. I also found his character sketches of people both historic and contemporary condescending and sometimes mean. One reviewer described it as cruelty disguised as wit. For all the reviewers who found the descriptions dismal but beautifully written there were also reviewers who found the prose overly ornate and confusing. I was in the latter camp. Too many metaphors for the mundane, focusing on details that do not to make the scene truly live. So I’m the end, I read almost half of the book and skimmed the rest. I worked at it hard enough to make it one of my count for the year.
Some people confuse cruelty for wit. Gimlette claims to love Newfoundland, but he mostly comes across as smug. He does seem to genuinely like a small handful of smart, creative, and educated people - but no one else. And his attitude towards the Metis is awful.
His great grandfather had been part of a medical mission to NL, and he retraces parts of his journeys. You get a good contemporary description of the area as he really does get his boots dirty pretty much everywhere. The historical stories are largely through the lens of his own family's narrative with the strengths and weaknesses of such an approach.
I enjoyed this book, but it was entirely in spite of the author.
Subject was interesting but the writing was too obscure and cryptic for me. I spent way too much time re-reading sentences. Also, a book about the history and geography of Newfoundland could have had a few maps within it. Author did a lot of research which is appreciated, but he needs a new editor to help him to clarify and expand his writing. Here's an example of a particularly annoying sentence on page 285: "Once, I spotted a gift shop adrift in a blast of pre-Cambrian shrapnel, and two men struggling with a prehistoric fish". Pul-eeze! Speak plainly, Jim.
A must read for anyone venturing to Newfoundland. John Gimlette takes you with him on his journey to discover more about the life and adventures of his great-grandfather, Eliot Curwen. He takes you through St. John's, outports and Labrador with humor, warmth and sensitivity to this newest of Canadian provinces, once its own island nation of the British Empire. When I return to Newfoundland I'll be taking this book with all of its tagged pages with me. Thank you, John, for sharing your heartfelt and wonderful journey with us!
Newfoundland and Labrador has a very complicated history, with influences from the Innu native people, Portuguese, French, Irish, Scottish, English, and most recently the U.S. The author made an epic road trip, sometimes boarding a ferry to visit distant settlements. He interviewed a host of residents, most of whom I would describe as "characters" who retained their independent ways and cultural ties to their ancestral homeland. The book was published 23 years ago, and I'm curious to learn if I see and hear the same influences when I visit the province in a few months.
No way I could finish one of the most boring book ever. It's the third one from this author I read... the first one, about Paraguay, I totally loved and it made me visit the country. The second one, about Sri Lanka, I read while preparing my trip there and it was just OK.
I am intrigued by the Northern lands... Greenland, Terra Nova, Iceland, Faroe Islands... so I was really looking forward to get this book but it proofed impossible to read. A waste of time.
This is a terrific memoir of life in Newfoundland, Labrador and the devastating impact of the loss of the Cod fishing industry. The Author traces his family's history in the area, which is very remote and primitive - and he shows the long-lasting impact of the over-fishing of their Cod stocks...a great memoir! - https://johnrieber.com/2018/09/14/the...
Part history and part travelogue this book explored the underbelly of Newfoundland and Labrador. Using History as a gateway for his travels the reader gets a picture of life on the island from past centuries up to the current day(well At least to 2016). It was just a great book, especially if you have traveled there...it is a whole new perspective when landmarks have historical context and enriched your travel experiences
I don't know if there's any territory on the planet as peculiar and violent as the far north east coast of the American continent. I'm repelled and yet falling deeply in love with this part of the world, daydreaming about tipping a beer in the harbor at St. Johns and hiking the Torngat Mountains accompanied by a rifle-wielding polar bear patroman.
Picked this up expecting something Bill Bryson-y, but it came off relentlessly and st times to my ears unintelligably British. Like thinking I was going to do the USA Today crossword and ending up in the middle of one of those cryptic puzzles that I can never really figure out the rules for...
Enjoyable, but not as funny or weird as "At the Tomb of the Inflatable Pig," and his horror in the chapter where he comes across locals living unpicturesquely in a middle-class subdivision is obnoxious.
Some interesting and kind of disturbing stories of the people who populated NL. Not the easiest read. Probably best for those who want to read everything published on the province.
I did not like this book at all. I don't blame the writing, exactly. Gimlette seems like a skilled writer, and a friendly, charming person with lots of curiosity and appreciation of the bizarre and absurd and macabre in real life. I believe it's that appreciation that is exactly what repelled me, or at least what he was fascinated in researching and recounting in this book. I had never heard anything about Newfoundland and Labrador before this book, and that seemed like a shame from a geography buff like myself, so I was excited to read this book. However, having finished the book FINALLY (It took me four months to slog through it.), I guess there's a reason that I didn't know more about them. They're not very nice places, with a gaunt beauty at best, and some terrible history. The sections reading about the Inu and the Inuit were some of the most heartbreaking, but in general the book was stuffed with stories of vice and lawlessness to rival or even surpass even the most abandoned areas of the American Wild West. Fish was king, until they fished the ocean to the point of collapse, and now there's just scattered settlements slowly fading away and/ or resettling, broken and hopeless native settlements, the vast percentage of both communities living on government assistance, and not much else. Just a brutal climate and waterways, and some really nasty-sounding insects. The only section I found enjoyable and interesting to begin with was the small part of the area that is still a French holding. It sounded charming at first, but, at least as Gimlette describes it, turned out to be unpleasant in its own way. Bummer. Overall, I have honestly read travel writing set in war zones that sounds more appealing to me than this area of the world. I get that Gimlette was drawn to the area and his stories because of his historic family connection to the area. And to some extent hearing about the exploits of those forbearers was interesting. But I just got to the point where if I heard about one more dog or native being cruelly slaughtered, or one more lawless area filled with more sin and depravity than I could imagine, I was going to scream. This book took me so long to read precisely because the subject matter was so unpalatable to me that I had to consume it in small chunks, and wash it down with other, more enjoyable writing, until the last hundred pages or so, when I finished it up in one desperate gulp as quickly as possible. Then, at long last, I was finished with it! Based on the author's taste in subject matter alone, I doubt I'll hunt down any more of his books in the future. I mean, how can I relate to a man who doesn't even seem to like dogs or forests?!
Zbyt długa, około 3/4 zaczęłam się już nudzić. Myślę, że warta przeczytania jeśli ma się już jakąś wiedzę o Nowej Fundlandii, jakikolwiek jej obraz w głowie bo ta książka nie daje go w pełni. Zawiera za to bardzo dużo nazwisk, nazw miejsc i bohaterów, których nie byłam w stanie zapamiętać.
John Gimlette is downright poetic as he describes the geographic, social and sad economic landscape of Newfoundland and Labrador. This prose poetry has a style, but I'm at a loss to say what that style could be called.
His ability to turn a phrase, though, is outdone by the Newfies and Labs themselves... "She'd an eye for my father... always put her tent up he did"... a boat ran into "dirty weather" (a hurricane) and "Got no eyes... got no teeth... but I still shoot". Once you get into it, you laugh out loud when Gimlette tells a local he's a lawyer. Without any of the modern sensibilities about this, the Newfie resonds, "So you're a li'ar, you say."
It's a harsh world he describes using information that I don't believe is available anywhere else. Besides quotes from his great great grandfather's journal, there are recounts of new stories and oral histories. One weakness is that not all sources are attributed in the text and there are no footnotes. He catalogs many horrible ways people have died of cold, hunger and dogs. He tells of famous people who came to this area, made history and left without a trace.
Gimlette describes the "Truck" system that ruled till the 1950s, the fish equivalent of sharecropping, that served to entrench poverty. (Some fisherman never used money in their lives.) With the end of fish in the 1990's, government assistance helped some and 50,000 others left.
I've been to the South Coast of Newfoundland, which he briefly describes in more positive terms than any other place in the book. Reading about this merely "Dickensian" area is somewhat like a relief after all the tragedy JG describes elsewhere on this rock. I stayed in a home much like he describes (clean... mementos... scant furnishings...no running water). The beauty of the landscape and the hospitality of the people left me totally unaware of the suffering all around. This book, is lovingly written and communicates the writer's affection for the area and his understanding of and empathy with its people.
If Gimlette decides to trace his great great grandfather's steps in China, I'll be very interested in that book.
Theatre of Fish is not enjoyable a read as At the Tomb of the Inflatable Pig, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t very good. John Gimlette remains a stylist with few peers in contemporary English letters.
Or perhaps it is that Newfoundland is not a land quite as fascinating as Paraguay – about which Gimlette’s first book was written. Too, Theatre of Fish is more of a historical and autobiographical event than its predecessor was. This might be a consequence of Gimlette’s evolving style, or it might be an aberration.
Still, there is excellent writing to be found:
There's no subtlety in the plot from here. The storm screamed across the ice for two and a half days. Some men died in their soliloquies, others in a chorus of tears. Some tried to dance to keep warm and were caught forever in a grisly sealer's waltz. Others just lay down and let the howls freeze on their lips. Seventy-seven men perished. There was no sky in the final scene, no breath or blood or flailing limbs, just the patter of snow on marble faces.
and
Let no one think that an iceberg is just a lump of cold water. Here were exquisite crowns, hands, cathedrals and pyramids. Curwen even saw Fountains Abbey floating out of the mist. Sometimes, they were shot with streaks of ultramarine, or they lit up the sea like jade.
No, perhaps this book is not quite good as At the Tomb of the Inflatable Pig, but it is still better constructed than 90 percent of books published in the last decade.
An amazing read though I often am left scratching my head, at the vocabulary - what in the world is he talking about?, and at the hard facts of living and dying in Labrador and Newfoundland at the turn of the century. But now that I've finished it, I want to read it again.
Newfoundland is one of the most intriguing places in North America, a land of breathtaking but cruel beauty, populated by some of the saltiest, oddest characters you’ll ever find. In Theatre of Fish, John Gimlette vividly describes the dense forests and forbidding coastlines and recounts the colorful and often tragic history of the region. He introduces us to the inhabitants, from the birds and moose to the descendants of the outlaws, deserters, and fishermen who settled this eastern edge of North America. Leavened with irreverence and affection, this is an irresistible portrait of life in extremis.
This narrative by a native to this region offers an almost stream-of-consciousness overview of the netherworld of Newfoundland & Labrador. As such, some of it doesn't connect from either a cultural, esoteric or TMI (yeah, I mean too much information) perspective. But having just visited this area, I was hungry for more cultural insight and this book fit the bill. Even to the extent to which I didn't get parts, I got why I didn't get it. Like any other region of our planet (thankfully) we each have our culture and norms. Sometimes the variation is radical (Chicago to Islamabad) and sometimes they're incremental (Chicago to St. Johns, NL). Sometimes I had to plow through. But for the few who have traveled in this region, it's a decent read.
I read "The Shipping News" a few years ago with great enjoyment, so when I saw Gimlette's book I had to read it too. Turns out Newfoundlanders are even quirkier than Proulx depicted. "Don't call us Newfies, or we'll kick your #%^* arse," Gimlette is told. The book is both a travel narrative and a history of Newfoundland and Labrador. I did not know much about either place, and they now appear as remote and strange as the backside of the moon.
"Theatre of Fish" is well written, with an interesting back story that involves on remote ancestor of the author. The book is a classic account of an unwanted commercially exploited backwater. The shear determination of the inhabitants to hang on against enormous odds is inspiring.