I am really excited to teach this course at UNC, Chapel Hill this spring. It will be accompanied by a much broader, theoretical course on play, game, and sport in the US, which will be offered through the American Studies Department.
If you have any suggestions about the fly fishing literature course — regarding readings or guests — please let me know.
Some years ago, I asked Rabbi Eric Eisenkramer, a passionate fly fisher, to speak to the students in my fly fishing-themed course, at Gettysburg College, about religion and fly fishing. Happily, he obliged, and we have been friends ever since. Not long after his visit to Gettysburg, he had me speak to his congregation at Temple Shearith Israel in Ridgefield, CT. I enjoyed giving my talk and exploring some Connecticut trout streams, as well.
Rabbi Eisenkramer coauthored a book entitled Fly-Fishing: The Sacred Art, with Reverend Michael Attas. This morning, he was featured on National Public Radio’s What a Game. During this morning’s broadcast, he shared some of the thoughts communicated in his book about spirituality and fly fishing. You can listen to his appearance on What a Game, below.
At last year’s Fly Fishing Show in Raleigh, I met fly tier Brad Kern (pictured above), a graduate student at Duke University. I was impressed by his work. Eventually, I decided to approach him with an idea I had in mind for a good while: I wanted someone to tie me a salmon fly version of the classic “Professor” wet fly. Brad’s talent, his probable need for money as a graduate student, and the fact that he was local, helped me make my decision. A few days ago, Brad finished the fly I proposed to him. You can see it at the top of this page and, again, at the bottom.
In Favorite Flies and their Histories (1892), Mary Orvis Marberry provides an illustration (above) of the classic “Professor” wet fly, along with an annotation:
The Professor was named after the much-loved Professor John Wilson (Christopher North), and the story of the fly is, that one time, when this famous angler was fishing, he ran short of flies, and, to create something of a fly-like appearance, he fastened the petals of buttercups on his hook, adding bits of leaves or grass to imitate the wings of a fly. This arrangement was so successful that it led to the making of the fly with a yellow silk body, since then so widely known as the Professor.
Prof. John Wilson, incidentally, was a Scottish author who lived from 1785-1854. “Christopher North” was his pseudonym. If he first tied the “Professor,” then it has been around for many, many years.
Brad Kern utilized many of the materials associated with the classic “Professor.” In turning it into a full-dress married-wing salmon fly, however, he added quite a few other materials and colors. Some of these — the blue and red (the latter is also present in the original) — signify my terminal academic degree (Ph.D) and discipline (Religious Studies). Brad provided a beautiful frame for the fly, and he included his maker marks or “chops” — one for his Korean family name and another for his personal name (also in Korean). The fly itself, if pictured below. I am very pleased with it.
You can see more of Brad’s work at Justwondering’s Flies.
A cap from my previous institution, and a fly fishing journal that all of my students signed.
Recently, my departmental chairperson, at the university at which I teach, suggested that I offer a course dealing with fly fishing. This, she said, could be framed as part of the university’s two-year initiative to focus on matters surrounding water. I readily agreed.
I had the pleasure of teaching an interdisciplinary course at my previous institution, in which I used fly fishing as a theme to examine broader issues. I very much enjoyed teaching that course. When I left that school to spend more time with my wife–a professor in another state–and daughter, I assumed that I would never have the chance to offer a course like that again.
Happily, I was wrong. I am eager to teach a new version of the course this spring. The students will read historically important texts ranging from Juliana Berner’s (authorship disputed) The Treatyse of Fysshynge wyth an Angle (1486) to Norman Maclean’s A River runs Through It (1976). In doing so, they will try to discern why religious themes are so prevalent in these texts, written over a span of over six centuries. Among other things, they will need to consider the role that water and the so-called “natural” world might play in the religious views of the authors.
I am eager to read and discuss these texts with my students. I am also eager to hear their thoughts about how views of water, held by centuries of fisherpersons, have changed or remained the same. And I wonder if, perhaps, we can learn something about why so many people today pay so little attention to water. Indeed, many take it for granted, despite its power and our need for it.
So the vast Collection of Waters sometimes heaves in its briny Billow, swells every Bay, and rushes with Joy tho’ every Channel; as from an Engine played by the Almighty Arm; then sinks into her deep Caverns, leaves Room for the Return of the Rapid Rivers; with vast Addition from in-land Oceans.
Reverend Joseph Seccombe, 1739.
My daughter loves to rifle through the reel cases and pick out the small reels. Here, she has laid claim to a Forbes “Avon.” She does, in fact, have here own Hardy “Flyweight,” that a friend bought for her.
Trout Magic, first edition, signed.
John Voelker (1903-1991), a Michigan Supreme Court justice, is probably best known as the author of Anatomy of a Murder (1958). Otto Preminger made the best-selling book into a movie, starring Jimmy Stewart, Lee Remick, and Ben Gazara. The movie also featured Duke Ellington and some amazing, original music that the musician composed for the film.
After the success of the book and its film adaptation, Voelker retired to spend the rest of his days fly fishing and writing. Eventually, he wrote several books dealing with fly fishing, which have become part of the canon of fishing literature. The books were initially published under the name of Robert Traver. He adopted this pen name early in his writing career to protect his professional identity as an attorney and judge. Most fly fishers, I am confident in saying, envy Voelker his success and his ability to retire early and fish.
Following is a trailer for Anatomy of a Murder, in which you can see Voelker himself.
In his book 1974 book, Trout Magic, Voelker writes about one of his favorite bamboo fly rod makers, Morris Kushner. Kushner’s rods are well-respected to this day, even though he never made them professionally. Indeed, Voelker quotes Kushner as saying, “I only make ’em because I love to make nice things for myself and my friends” (Trout Magic, 143).
My own friend, also a rodmaker, recently alerted me to the fact that there is documentary about Kushner. It is titled, simply, The Rodmaker. You can purchase a copy of it here. Note that the DVD includes an interview with Voelker. Following is the trailer for the movie. The trailer, too, features some fine footage of Voelker. Enjoy.
When dawn breaks in Scotland, in just a few hours, I’d love to be somewhere on The River Clyde. Upstream with the trout and grayling or downstream with the salmon — I am not particular.
Instead, I’ll be in North Carolina grading papers and waiting for some antibiotics to chase away my sinus infection. But I’ll have my memories, imagination, and hope with me. No doubt I’ll find a way back to the Clyde soon.
My daughter hears a great deal about fly fishing, and she has joined me fishing from a boat several times. She also has several fishing games with which she loves to play. As a little girl just approaching her third birthday, however, she has yet to actually fish, herself. Still, she loves to grab or rod or reel, when I have one sitting out. Today, after rescuing a favorite rod from her, I pulled out a Hardy Glass “Aln” rod and matching Flyweight reel, which were given to her by close friends when she was only a few months old. Her fishing attire was a lady bug costume, as she happened to be pining for Halloween. I’m almost certain–very hopeful, at least–that she will be ready to fish within a year’s time.
While I understand that he is a very important American writer, I have never been attracted to Raymond Carver’s work. I didn’t realize until recently, however, that he was a prolific poet, as well as short story author. Nor did I realize that he was a fly fisher. This changed when I came across a poem the other day that really struck me. It captures a feeling of tension that I have experienced many times as an academic. The title is “The Debate,” and it was originally published in 1986, in Carver’s book Ultramarine.
“The Debate”
This morning I’m torn
between responsibility to
myself, duty
to my publisher, and the pull
I feel toward the river
below my house. The winter-
run steelhead are in,
is the problem. It’s
nearly dawn, the tide
is high. Even as
this little dilemma
occurs, and the debate
goes on, fish
are starting into the river.
Hey, I’ll live, and be happy,
whatever I decide.
I am grateful that Steve Duda included part of this poem in his recent The Flyfish Journal article on Carver, “Where Water comes together with Other Water” (Volume 3, Issue 4). I see myself reading more Carver in the future (and The Flyfish Journal will continue to be the one periodical to which I subscribe).
I surely wouldn’t mind being back on the Henry’s Fork right now, or on any spring creek, for that matter. This is a picture of my niece and her husband fishing in front of his father’s Island Park home. My niece has become a real master of that water. I proud of her for this accomplishment and for a million other reasons too.
The Literary Fly Fisher 