My husband has had this on his shelves for years. I figured it was time to see what it was all about. Uh, don't get it. There were a few chapters that seemed to be a story with a bit of whimsy(?) throughout but then either abruptly ended or went somewhere unrelated. I found some interesting analogies and imagery but not enough to hold my interest for what's in between. ( )

An exercise in failing, disguising, heightening and perverting the various referents of trout fishing in america, that young terrorist God. Can’t wait to offload this book to my children (God willing that my nuts still work when I want some of the little bastards): I’ll probably add this book into my home-school syllabus around the same time that I begin my seminars on The Mighty Boosh, Captain Beefheart and polymorphous perversity. ( )

I imagine one of the cardinal rules of surrealism is complaining about not getting it, but...

I clearly need to continue to broaden my horizons and continue by surrealist adventure because Trout Fishing in America because, while immensely readable and of the kind of length that by itself makes it difficult to put down, I just didn't get the cult classic kick.

How do you describe a book like this? It starts off commenting on the cover, beginning a process of boiling down the whole book into mayonnaise. The funny thing is, the version on Audible (available in the included library) and various other editions don't have the original cover featuring the statue of Ben Franklin... Anyways, this book appears to be a series of vignettes and micro fiction that are linked around the theme of trout fishing and camping, varying degrees of commentary on America, and/ or none of the above, but the phrase, Trout fishing in America, prominently featured, regardless of whether it's a person, place, or chalk graffiti on the back of first year students.

The writing is really interesting in places, both in its form and quality, and in the content and commentary. At its best it is charming, funny, and insightful, at its worst its bumbling, boring, and on the nose/ off the mark, but mostly it chugs along rather affabley, carrying the reader along on with its bizarreness and chapter brevity.

I wouldn't be at all surprised if I am totally ignorant to much of what is going on, displaced as I am in time, geography, and artistic knowledge/ exploration. I also don't feel like I read the same book as the author of the almost sycophantic introduction. I will certainly mark this as something to look back on and possibly return to once I have more experience and context.

There is definitely some unfortunate language around race. Unlike, The Hearing Trumpet by Leonora Carrington, it is a bit more prevalent, as are some stereotypes and perspectives that are racist. This is not a huge part of the novel and it seems to be more common tropes than anything particularly virulent, but it is not my place to judge. These things do need to be mentioned when they arise though, regardless of when a book was published

Ultimately, I did enjoy it for the most part and found it somewhat inspiring, for both complimentary and less so reasons. I absolutely did want it to be over and fully zoned out by the end. I do wonder how much the brilliant narration of Chris Andrew Ciulla made a difference and helped keep me focused.

My reviews are always my own random subjective thoughts, so you're mileage may vary, and this is never more the case than with the more uncommon and particularly styled movements/ expressions. ( )

This is one of those books I feel like it's cool to like, or at least say you like in a group of people, without actually liking, or understanding it, all that much. A venerable entry in the absurd canon, certainly - though I'd rather read almost any few pages of [infinite Jest] before cracking this one open again. The conceit of merely substituting a term in the place of other nouns tires rather quickly. Really, I only read this one because I hadn't been able to find a copy of another title yet and wanted to try something by Brautigan.

2 bones!! ( )

An exercise in failing, disguising, heightening and perverting the various referents of trout fishing in america, that young terrorist God. Can’t wait to offload this book to my children (God willing that my nuts still work when I want some of the little bastards): I’ll probably add this book into my home-school syllabus around the same time that I begin my seminars on The Mighty Boosh, Captain Beefheart and polymorphous perversity. ( )

Jesus deliver me from Mainstream American Experimental Fiction!

Birdie Jay: “It’s so dumb, it’s brilliant!”
Benoit Blanc: “NO! It’s just DUMB!”

Tedious and tiresome, and the vituperation against Nelson Algren bizarre and dumb. (The Man with the Golden Arm is a better book than this.)

I feel like I owe William Burroughs an apology. ( )

Profoundly odd and yet lovely. Maybe more like poetry than book - maybe. A peek into another era.

Only recommended for those who are truly curious about the book, author, or era. ( )

Weird little stories from another time, and they're short! ( )

It's ALMOST tempting to reread Brautigan. I started growing my hair long when I was 14. Where I grew up that was the kind of thing that elicited alotof people shouting at me from their cars. Words of wisdom like: "Faggot!", "Manson!", "Jesus Christ!" (a personal favorite), "Are you a BOY or a GIRL?!" (you'd think they'd be embarassed to admit to not being able to tell the difference), & the all-time classic "Get a job!". Anyway, Brautigan was 'hippie-lit' & most of the freaks I hung w/ probably read him. I enjoyed his writing. It was kindof like Hemingway for drop-outs. Too bad he killed himself. As did Hemingway, coincidentally enuf. ( )

It really is a fantastic little book. The first thing I thought when I started reading it, without any knowledge about what to expect, was: 'What is this cr*p?' The language is weird, the title of the book is used to describe a person, there seems to be no protagonist, and all the stories end without a point. But after three of the short stories, I got sucked in. The weird 'jargon', the funny descriptions of people and places all add up to a unique atmosphere. As I've understood, there is a deeper, post-modern meaning to the book, but even without understanding this in total, taking the book for what it appears to be (a unique, funny, uncohesive, absurd view on reality) is enough to like it very much. ( )

This was the first book that really showed me how a writer can make reality take a left turn while everyone else kept straight on. There is a childlike beauty and simplicity in these pages and even though it is a few years since I read it, it is never far from my mind.

The sight of a trout river, (in New Zealand there are many. many such rivers) a picture of a trout, someone wearing one of those shorty green fishing vests and sometimes just the idle fancy.

I recently read about Richard Brautigan's sad end by his own hand and how his body lay unfound for many months. In my mind I can put those two things together. It is like he used up all his magic in one book and when he ran short many years later he had no choice but to end it all.

If only he had known that his name would still be spoken many years later and his books still read.

Such a beautiful book and such a sad man. ( )

A collection of moments and observations by someone who enjoys trout fishing.

3/4 (Good).

It's prose poetry, not a novel. It's a nice book, if you go in knowing that, not expecting a story (or clarity). His style isn't quite there yet; it's quirky and pastoral, with no weight to it. ( )

A classic I was "supposed" to like but which never quite resonated with me... ( )

I was disappointed to discover that I enjoyed Brautigan much more when I was twenty years old than I do now. Funny how a few decades will do that. ( )

It's been close to a decade since I read this gem and I was not disappointed when I re-visited it. This book freaking holds up. Zany off the wall humor perfect for Vonnegut fans; this collection of short recollections, stories, and essays is sure to leave readers grinning. From the Kool Aid Wino to The Hunchback Trout, these stories stick with you. Most are related to the author's childhood and fishing habits and I'll be damned if they're not funny and reminiscent of a very different world (this was written in the seventies). It's a quick, funny, and charming. Essential American reading. ( )

I'm glad I've come across this edition of the novel in particular because its cover with a picture portraying Brautigan himself with his wife had me falling in love at first sight with this hippie and odd American classic.

I mean, just take a look at them! :-D
http://www.google.it/imgres?hl=it&client=firefox-a&hs=XZO&sa=X&t... ( )

More often spoken of in reverential tones than read, I suspect. So it comes as some surprise to me on finally reading Richard Brautigan’s fish tale to discover that it is entirely readable, playful in the extreme, and refreshingly undated. Of course it is entirely likely that the book has had so much influence on the two (or three) generations of writers that came after it that all of its eccentricity and absurdist turns just look like old hat these days. Not entirely. I definitely think it is still worth reading and shall endeavour to speak of it in reverential tones myself in order to promote that activity.

What exactly Trout Fishing in America is remains open to debate. It may not be a conventional novel, but there are so many books out there that aren’t conventional novels that its unconventionality hardly distinguishes it. What stands out is that it is filled to bursting with what you might call left-turn similes, i.e. similes that appear headed in one direction and suddenly take another tack. It is also, surprisingly, filled with a lot of actual trout fishing. So that must put it in the running against Moby Dick as one of those books that come to define America.

And so, gently recommended. ( )

Though I do believe this book was extremely important in its time I am not convinced it is any longer. I did enjoy rereading it as it brought back old and pleasant memories of a time first-called The Generation of Love. Richard Brautigan, after years of writing poetry and learning how to write a good sentence, made this first stab at composing a version of what he would come to call his very first novel. This first work made the rounds of many publishers and was pretty much shelved for other titles of Brautigan such as his second novel A Confederate General from Big Sur that was loosely based on a friend of his and was more "plot driven" than Trout Fishing in America. Of course, we all know that this, his actual first novel, is what made him famous and led to his enormous fame and fortune that could not last nor endure his depressive state that was never far from present throughout his entire life of forty-nine years. A clever first book, often brilliant in spots, with sounds resembling the best lyrics of a young Bob Dylan who was also in process of finding his own voice in that same time along the by-ways of America. ( )

Horribly stupid and a real slog to read. ( )

Maybe it is too short a time between Trout Fishing in America and today. Reading it led people back in the Sixties to say " Wow, man, groovy". Today it can lead to eyebrows raising. What is this hippie idiocy? A gigantic LSD-trip? A sit-in with all participants on high?

And yet the book is charming. It has a flow, it has a nice but critical undertone. It doesn't belittle American society of that time, but observes it with humor and a bit of sarcasm. It is a trip indeed, but a fun trip through contemporary history. A trip without nasty afterthoughts.

It's difficult to describe what the book is about. It's about America when Richard Brautigan was young. It's about America when Richard Brautigan was on a fishing trip with his wife and kid in Idaho. It's about America when Richard Brautigan was living in San Francisco. All that and more. A bit of poetry, a dollop of sarcasm, and a cast of weird people with weird behavior who are real nevertheless. Even if they happen to be a statue.

It's short and sweet. It'll make you laugh and frown, sometimes even on the same page, reading the same short chapter. You understand?

It's like " Wow, man, groovy." You know what I mean. ( )

Funky, Burroughs-esque riff on 1961 America. Read over a nightshift, found in Hilary's office. Explains much. ( )

I read it. I liked it. I forgot about it. ( )

Dear Richard Brautigan,

I regret that it's taken me so long to get around to reading your book, though perhaps now was the right time. It is a very funny book in that ridiculous way I so enjoy. Your affinity for nature speaks to me, though I can't say I share your love of fishing. (We have a rocky past.) Still, I didn't mind the constant references. I'm writing this letter to you on a website where users track their reading habits. The website is accessed by a computer. That probably sounds like nonsense to you. Most websites contain either porn or cat photos, so you are not missing much. Still, I wonder if you would have a website if you were alive today. Regardless, someone made one about you. Give my best to Trout Fishing for America Shorty.

Warm regards,

Sean ( )

I liked it as a work on its own, but also get the sense it's inseparable from its era. Brautigan sparks my interest in others; Gary Snyder, Abbie Hoffman, etc. ( )

As the back cover says, reading Trout Fishing in America won’t help you catch more fish, but it does have something to do with trout fishing, which is one of the narrator’s favorite activities. Trout Fishing is more a character than an activity, though; it is an ideal of what life could be, and thoughts of it are the narrator’s constant companion. This is a strange little book, 87% prose poem and 13% fictional autobiography, but repeated readings don’t really help understand anything except that it is a strange little book, and worth repeated readings.