Synopsis
In upstate New York, within the woods, Dutchman’s Creek flows out of the Ashokan Reservoir. Steep-banked and fast-moving, it offers the promise of fine fishing, and of something more, a possibility too fantastic to be true.
When Abe and Dan, two widowers who have found solace in each other’s company and a shared passion for fishing, hear rumours of the Creek and what might be found there, the remedy to both their losses, they dismiss them. Soon, though, the men find themselves drawn into a tale as deep and old as the Reservoir.
It’s a tale of dark pacts, of long-buried secrets, and of a mysterious figure known as the Fisherman. It will bring Abe and Dan face to face with all that they have lost, and with the price they must pay to regain it.
Review
John Langan’s cosmic horror modern classic has been on my radar for years, but it’s only now that I’ve got around to reading it. And it fell somewhere just short being a masterwork for me. Let me explain.
The Fisherman follows Abe and Dan, as they bond over a shared passion for fishing following the deaths of their wives. The widowed pair both grieve and ruminate over their losses, whilst searching out new fishing spots. Eventually, they make their way to Dutchman’s Creek, where they hear a tale of darkness, secret forces, and what really hides within its depths. Essentially, this is nested narrative that really feels like a novella rammed inside another novella, both of which feel wholly separate, but contradictorily, impossibly intertwined.
Abe & Dan’s story, which bookends this novel, is powerful, emotional, filled with a sadness that permeates life once you experience loss of someone(s) so integral to your own being. The desperation you feel in these men to be back with their lost loved ones, particularly in the third part of this book, is so compelling, and these sections are some of my utmost favourite pieces of writing concerning death and finding meaning afterwards.
The middle section, however, I enjoyed, but had my gripes with. It’s a folkloric, meandering tale about the myth surrounding this area, and the families involved with the construction of a reservoir there. It’s gothic, dark, sprawling, filled with a deep history, and oftentimes, has some brilliant nightmarish imagery. The problem is, it’s so disorientating, flits between so many characters, and feels a bit all over the place, that I struggled to understand what was happening and to whom. It’s ultimately a necessary chunk of book (I am sure it will shine in rereads), but on initial reading, I can’t help but feel like it was a side quest to a more personal and engaging journey.
Overall, I liked the book a lot, even with my (minor) issues. The Fisherman is a solid tale, with a great sense of cosmic myth in this tragic, grief veined fable. I’m looking forward to hooking some of Langan’s short story collections (Corpsemouth next!) and losing myself in the abyss.
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