The plain truth is that Paul Quarrington seems, from his writing and stories, to be exactly the sort of guy you'd want to go fishing with. And if you aren't into fishing, then he's the sort of guy to spin the tall tales for which fishing is known. Very funny and likably down-to-earth, Quarrington imparts his enthusiasm for clever brookies, elegant fly casts, and the wind-blown reaches of Quebec as he wades the cold streams in search of the legendary, record-breaking speckled trout.


From Publishers Weekly
The Old Guy of the title is Gordon Deval, who joined Canadian novelist Quarrington (King Leary) and two others on a fishing trip from Toronto to northern Quebec. The term is a generic one among anglers and refers to the experienced fisher who passes on secrets of fishing or casting to a novice. Those who think that casting and fishing must be concomitants are wrong, for there is a group that holds casting competitions, determines champions (Deval is the longtime North America Casting Champion) and awards plaques?fishing is not necessarily the point of the activity. On this trip, though, the goal was to catch the biggest brook (i.e., speckled) trout in the world, to best the record 14 pounds. But nature was against them, with an unrelenting, freezing wind, lots of rain and at least one ice storm. The terrain, too, was hostile and the engine on their boat uncooperative. Everything went badly, leaving this humorous account the only bright spot in their quest. Copyright 1996 Reed Business Information, Inc.


From Kirkus Reviews
Novelist Quarrington (Whale Music, 1989) coaxes a wealth of bright humor from a couple of unlikely suspects: a fishless fishing trip and some really bad weather. Quarrington's fly fishing had hit one of those transitional moments when a guide was needed to facilitate passage to a higher plane, in this case mastering the double-haul cast. He became an acolyte at the feet of Gordon Deval, a magus and ``Old Guy'' who knew the secrets and was willing to share them--``Oh no, Grasshopper. Too much motion. The wrist must lock like a door against thieves.'' And in addition to the mysteries of casting, he was also willing to share the holiest of holies: the secret glory hole, where only lunkers lurk. It lay north, far north, in Quebec. For two weeks in August, Gordon and Quarrington and two others would form a balanced, equitable little society on an island in a lake that just might, Gordon had a feeling, surrender the biggest speckled trout in the world. The isle turned out to be something Dr. Moreau would have fancied: cruel wind, dark low skies, every prospect vile. The men were cold and wet and hungry, fetid and confused and angry because, of course, there were no fish there. During the extended lull, Quarrington's mind wandered, to tournament casting and casting clubs, to fishing for ``wyatt bias'' in Arkansas, to a rueful salmon encounter. There are times when the writing can get a tad wordy, as when the author probes distant autobiographical reaches; but before it gets oppressive, Quarrington is back in form, flashing drollery and wit, a big- hearted younger guy who understands the poetry of the double-haul, though the technique remains beyond him. If Quarrington is half as entertaining around a campfire as he is in this book, then he represents the Platonic ideal of the fishing buddy. -- Copyright ©1996, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved.

FROM THE PUBLISHER

In the fall of 1994, Gord Deval set out in search of the world's biggest speckled trout. With a particular spot in mind and an intrepid fishing party of three fellow anglers including the author, he embarks on a quest for this elusive trophy. Along the way, the mysteries of piscatorial pleasure and a particular love of nature are revealed.

FROM THE CRITICS

Publishers Weekly

The Old Guy of the title is Gordon Deval, who joined Canadian novelist Quarrington (King Leary) and two others on a fishing trip from Toronto to northern Quebec. The term is a generic one among anglers and refers to the experienced fisher who passes on secrets of fishing or casting to a novice. Those who think that casting and fishing must be concomitants are wrong, for there is a group that holds casting competitions, determines champions (Deval is the longtime North America Casting Champion) and awards plaquesfishing is not necessarily the point of the activity. On this trip, though, the goal was to catch the biggest brook (i.e., speckled) trout in the world, to best the record 14 pounds. But nature was against them, with an unrelenting, freezing wind, lots of rain and at least one ice storm. The terrain, too, was hostile and the engine on their boat uncooperative. Everything went badly, leaving this humorous account the only bright spot in their quest. (Oct.)

Kirkus Reviews

Novelist Quarrington (Whale Music, 1989) coaxes a wealth of bright humor from a couple of unlikely suspects: a fishless fishing trip and some really bad weather.

Quarrington's fly fishing had hit one of those transitional moments when a guide was needed to facilitate passage to a higher plane, in this case mastering the double-haul cast. He became an acolyte at the feet of Gordon Deval, a magus and "Old Guy" who knew the secrets and was willing to share them—"Oh no, Grasshopper. Too much motion. The wrist must lock like a door against thieves." And in addition to the mysteries of casting, he was also willing to share the holiest of holies: the secret glory hole, where only lunkers lurk. It lay north, far north, in Quebec. For two weeks in August, Gordon and Quarrington and two others would form a balanced, equitable little society on an island in a lake that just might, Gordon had a feeling, surrender the biggest speckled trout in the world. The isle turned out to be something Dr. Moreau would have fancied: cruel wind, dark low skies, every prospect vile. The men were cold and wet and hungry, fetid and confused and angry because, of course, there were no fish there. During the extended lull, Quarrington's mind wandered, to tournament casting and casting clubs, to fishing for "wyatt bias" in Arkansas, to a rueful salmon encounter. There are times when the writing can get a tad wordy, as when the author probes distant autobiographical reaches; but before it gets oppressive, Quarrington is back in form, flashing drollery and wit, a big- hearted younger guy who understands the poetry of the double-haul, though the technique remains beyond him.

If Quarrington is half as entertaining around a campfire as he is in this book, then he represents the Platonic ideal of the fishing buddy.