Fishin' in New York City???
"Shall we go to heaven or a 'fishing?"
— Henry David Thoreau
In his new book The Fish's Eye, Ian Frazier has compiled 17 essays
which have previously appeared in various periodicals over the past 20 years.
When I first heard that fishing in New York City was one of the main topics
in the book, my reaction (being a true Son of the Red Clay Hills) was like
that of two young girls Mr. Frazier chronicles in the first piece in the
book, "Anglers":
Upon seeing a bucket containing four catfish that had been caught in a New
York City lake, the two girls had the following exchange.
' "These boys should let the fish go," one girl said.
"Are you kidding? Those fish could die out there in that water," the
other girl said.'
My thoughts exactly. There isn't any water in New York City clean enough to
fish in, is there? Well, evidently there is, and there are many fishermen
(and women) who stalk their finny prey within the city limits of New York
City. The author chronicles several tales about fishing in New York City,
most of them hilarious, all very entertaining and containing bits of
insight into life in the big city that only a native could provide.
The longest tale, "An Angler at Heart", is actually several essays in one;
all chronicling tales about Deren Scott, proprietor of a tackle shop at 141
East 44th Street called "The Angler's Roost". Reading about Deren, his
store, the people who visit, the items he sells (Mr. Frazier dedicates 2
pages just to the inventory of the store), and the sheer incongruity of a
tackle shop smack dab in the middle of New York
City is alone almost worth the price of the book.
Not all of the stories are set in New York City, however. Several of the
tales involve rivers out West, more like where you'd expect a collection of
fishing stories to take place.
In many of the essays, "Catching Monsters After Dark" for example, Mr.
Frazier explores and tries to explain to the non-fishing layman the
mysticism of fishing. The struggle of man with his collection of feathers,
glue and hooks tied into flies trying to coax a fish into believing he's
getting the real deal, the oneness with nature one feels when wandering
into a new stream alone and finding a spot where the big
fish lie, and eating bugs are all part of the fishing experience. Yes, I
said eating bugs. In "It's Hard to Eat Just One", Mr. Frazier tells of his
fondness for mayflies and says "I would not go so far as to call mayflies
delicious, but they do have a satisfying crunch and a taste like the soft
part at the bottom of a stalk of grass." Uh . . . yeah . . . Whatever you say, sir.
Mr. Frazier's fishing world, consisting mostly of fly fishing, is
completely alien to the fishing world I grew up in. His Dad didn't fish at
all and when Mr. Frazier actually caught a fish while his Dad watched, his
Dad "would croon, in pitying tones, 'Ohhhh-let it go.'"
My Dad, on the other hand, was a serious fisherman and my fishing
adventures always consisted of a souped-up, hot rod boat, several rods and
reels, and about a million different lures, worms, and other bait. There
was none of the peaceful solitude and communion with nature Mr. Frazier
speaks of. It was more along the philosophy of "Early to bed and early to
rise, fish like hell and make up lies."
Reading the stories in The Fish's Eye takes me back to the reason
that I enjoyed fishing in the first place and for that, I thank Mr.
Frazier. If you are a fishing enthusiast, an outdoorsy person, or just enjoy well told stories, then The Fish's Eye should be on your must-read list this summer.
— 5 June 2002
