[.ca] From the Far Side of the River (ISBN 1550549790)

Amazon.ca:
With Paul Quarrington setting the hook, there's generally something fishy going on, and this latest collection of observations and meditations on the angling arts is no exception. Just look at the subtitle: "Chest-Deep in Little Fish and Big Ideas." Quarrington weighs in on both with self-effacing wit, but his essays go well below the surface, which makes him a superb companion on the waters. While he's funny, he can also be profound, and it's certainly enjoyable to join him in pursuit of steelhead, rainbows, catfish, bonefish, and adventure at the exclusive Tsunami Lodge. But it's also starkly provocative to be in his presence as he confronts the darkness of 9/11, the death of his father, and the difficulties of his marriage, beautifully wrapped together in "Fishing Through Disaster." On the Bow River in Calgary he finds a sense pf clarity: "When standing in a river, it's impossible not to contemplate the cycle, the Great Wheel of Life, just as a human being must contemplate his or her own insignificance when standing underneath a panoply of stars. There's some comfort in knowing that we all are part of a greater thing, that we swim for a while in the river and then leave it to others to complete the journey to the source. And do you know what kind of comfort it is? Cold, of course, frigid. I envied the fish their ability to accept it." That's the kind of writing that makes From the Far Side of the River a fuller, richer volume than Fishing with My Old Guy and Fishing for Brookies, Browns, and Bows, the two delightful books that precede it. Still, there's plenty of room here for the Old Guy to return, and his presence makes certain that, even at his heaviest, Quarrington remaims afloat. --Jeff Silverman

Paul's Book of Fish *:
Paul Quarrington's fishing adventures are a delightful read. Almost a sequel to his previous "Fishing With The Old Guy", this work is broader in scope and deeper in insight. Quarrington isn't afraid to examine himself closely while travelling or fishing. The result is a strongly personalised account of who he is and who he relates to in the sport. An avid fisherman, he makes clear that "Catching", while desireable, is clearly secondary to "fishing" itself. There's obviously far less stress involved in "fishing" than occur when landing a record size is the goal. "Fishing" for itself offers a greater variety of experiences, which he recounts in his jocular style. It's the variety that makes this "Paul's Book of Fish". Beginning with a quest for the majestic Steelhead on Vancouver Island, he crosses the Rockies to the Bow for Rainbow, and the Red River near Winnepeg for the monstrous Catfish found there. An opportunity to examine wider vistas takes him to the Bahamas for the quirky Bonefish. It's difficult to resolve which is more humorous, the antics of the Bonefish or those of the guides he encounters there. As he relates, guides are a major element in fishing away from local waters. Their status is always an issue. When their self-image confronts that of the fisherman's, the clash can be explosive. Fishing, to Quarrington, is not idle time. It can be ideal time, but when introspection intrudes, the result can be serenity or distress. Quarrington was surely almost unique in choosing fishing as a means of coping with the events of 11 September 2001. He confesses it was his form of escape from the "disaster of unexampled order" that had occured that morning. His personal disasters, a lost marriage and a lost father, further weighted his burdened mind. In the Bow River, well within urban boundaries, he reminds us that Isaak Walton, dean of fishers, declared fishing a "contemplative pursuit". While thus employed Quarrington floats in thoughts "like a shipwrecked man in a sea of debris and sharks". He ponders, for example, what proportional disaster might befall the fish he seeks. By the end of the evening, a small moment of good fortune helps redeem the day. In the final essay, he returns to Vancouver Island. Always a self-effacing man, the Tsunami Lodge, Canada's most up-market fishermen's haven, nearly overwhelms him. He uses devious means to be sent there, knowing it's beyond his reach. He's in constant fear of exposure, but wants to record the extravagance some fishermen will expend in their pursuit. It's a compelling piece, especially given that the article "never got written". Until now. This finale is Quarrington at his finest. His evasive dealings with the lodge owner, his alcoholic ramblings with colleague Jake MacDonald, and, of course, time on the water all provide an image of a man for whom fishing is far more than idle sport. The whole collection provides views of fishing no "outdoors" magazine can offer. \ostephen a. haines - Ottawa, Canada\c * With humble apologies to Richard Flanagan

Paul's Book of Fish *:
Paul Quarrington's fishing adventures are a delightful read. Almost a sequel to his previous "Fishing With My Old Guy", this work is broader in scope and deeper in insight. Quarrington isn't afraid to examine himself closely while travelling or fishing. The result is a strongly personalised account of who he is and who he relates to in the sport. An avid fisherman, he makes clear that "Catching", while desireable, is clearly secondary to "fishing" itself. There's obviously far less stress involved in "fishing" than occur when landing a record size is the goal. "Fishing" for itself offers a greater variety of experiences, which he recounts in his jocular style. It's the variety that makes this "Paul's Book of Fish". Beginning with a quest for the majestic Steelhead on Vancouver Island, he crosses the Rockies to the Bow for Rainbow, and the Red River near Winnepeg for the monstrous Catfish found there. An opportunity to examine wider vistas takes him to the Bahamas for the quirky Bonefish. It's difficult to resolve which is more humorous, the antics of the Bonefish or those of the guides he encounters there. As he relates, guides are a major element in fishing away from local waters. Their status is always an issue. When their self-image confronts that of the fisherman's, the clash can be explosive. Fishing, to Quarrington, is not idle time. It can be ideal time, but when introspection intrudes, the result can be serenity or distress. Quarrington was surely almost unique in choosing fishing as a means of coping with the events of 11 September 2001. He confesses it was his form of escape from the "disaster of unexampled order" that had occured that morning. His personal disasters, a lost marriage and a lost father, further weighted his burdened mind. In the Bow River, well within urban boundaries, he reminds us that Isaak Walton, dean of fishers, declared fishing a "contemplative pursuit". While thus employed Quarrington floats in thoughts "like a shipwrecked man in a sea of debris and sharks". He ponders, for example, what proportional disaster might befall the fish he seeks. By the end of the evening, a small moment of good fortune helps redeem the day. In the final essay, he returns to Vancouver Island. Always a self-effacing man, the Tsunami Lodge, Canada's most up-market fishermen's haven, nearly overwhelms him. He uses devious means to be sent there, knowing it's beyond his reach. He's in constant fear of exposure, but wants to record the extravagance some fishermen will expend in their pursuit. It's a compelling piece, especially given that the article "never got written". Until now. This finale is Quarrington at his finest. His evasive dealings with the lodge owner, his alcoholic ramblings with colleague Jake MacDonald, and, of course, time on the water all provide an image of a man for whom fishing is far more than idle sport. The whole collection provides views of fishing no "outdoors" magazine can offer. \ostephen a. haines - Ottawa, Canada\c * With humble apologies to Richard Flanagan