This collection is about fishing and everything but fishing. From the trout streams of Montana to the shores of New England, to the spring creeks of Chile’s Patagonia to the clear waters of Belize, Hull regales readers with humility and hilarity. In Montana he fishes fabled trout streams in twilight; the day runs down while his brother’s time literally runs out. In a small pond on the grounds of a psychiatric hospital in Kansas, he fishes, pulling bluegill out of the water along with an essential part of his identity. While Hull fills his dispatches with wonderful characters and spectacular fishing stories, he offers searing insight into the human heart.
This guy writes really well. I find some of his subject matter a bit difficult, since he and I don't share all of the same fishing interests.
Nevertheless, in my opinion he writes better than most fly fishing writers. His story about his dog is told lovingly and with the respect that such a fine companion deserves. Of all the pieces in the book, this is certainly my favorite.
A review of his publications reveals that Professor Hull has written for publications other than those dedicated solely to fly fishing. Perhaps that accounts for his refreshingly different approach to the subject. I mean, this stuff is not strictly fly fishing all the time, not even about fly fishing; maybe not even about fishing.
Fly fishing as metaphor for life? Unexpectedly, yes. With language so exquisitely clean and sharp it almost hurts to read, Hull moves chapter by chapter from the specific and seemingly prosaic (the challenges of a particular fishing adventure) to the universal the challenges of remaining fully alive, fully present and fully open, even through pain and loss). Beautiful.
I must confess a conflict of interest here, as I grew up in Jeff Hull's small town; his parents and mine were the closest of friends and my sister a member of Hull's close group of friends in high school. That being said, Hull is one of the more intellectual sport-fishing writers to come along, and anyone who appreciates fly fishing will savor the read here.
I enjoyed the hell out of this book. Hull writes simply but weaves a great tale, without the pretense and frou-frou of a lot of fly-fishing literature. His language is plain, his stories are achingly real, and fishing provides a context, more of a backdrop, against which life unfurls. Great stuff.
I like much of these essays because mr hull is a fisherman with a conscience. I know virtually nothing about his type of fly fishing, but I appreciate learning about it. If you liked Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, you will like this for fishing.
If you can't be standing in the pulsing, breathing rivers of western Montana right now, arcing monofilament with feathered flies across the current, you could be reading this book. So why aren't you doing either of these rewarding things?