My Moby Dick

by William Humphrey

Humphrey, William H., My Moby Dick

Genres: Memoir

Hardcover

First published October 1, 1978

About the author

William Humphrey was an American novelist, memoirist, short story writer, and author of literary sporting and nature stories. His published works, while still available in French translation, largely have been out of print until recently. Home from the Hill and The Ordways are available from LSU Press. In 2015, Open Road Media published the complete works of William Humphrey in digital form.
Of significant interest to readers of Humphrey are Wakeful Anguish, A Literary Biography of William Humphrey by Ashby Bland Crowder as well as Far From Home, Selected Letters of William Humphrey edited by Crowder, both available from Louisiana State University Press.

Reviews

[David Finger · Rating 4 out of 5]

A short and enjoyable read that perfectly captures the strange obsession a fisherman has with his craft. Author William Humphrey has a poetic yet conversational style as he tells the tale of his quest to catch “old one-eye”, a monster trout located in a stream in the Berkshires in Massachusetts. Even if you aren’t a fisherman, you can appreciate this book and Humphrey’s determination to best his foe.

[Mosco · Rating 4 out of 5]

molto molto simpatico :-)

[Nolan · Rating 4 out of 5]

If you’ve never felt the supernal thrill of pitting yourself against a creature in its own element, this book may not cast the same spell over you that it did for me. It’s a flowery yet wonderfully told fish tale—a fisherman’s story where the fish becomes a living conquest.

This slim four-star gem unlocked scores of memories from fishing with my dad in a small aluminum boat we hauled to the edge of some remote Utah reservoir. Those were halcyon days when nothing mattered except the vibration humming through my lead line—until that electric instant when the lure stopped buzzing and a small rainbow trout tugged back, fighting for its life. The real victory, though, was never in landing or eating the fish. It lay in the uninterrupted chance to talk with Dad—me at the bow so my line wouldn’t snag the motor, him at the stern fishing off the opposite side—or simply in the comfortable silences we shared, the boat rocking gently between us like a cradle for memories as mentor and protégé sent flatfish lures drifting into the depths to deceive the hungry and capture the elusive.

Humphrey’s short novella delivers that same memorable charm. Determined to fly-fish a stream in Massachusetts’s Berkshire Mountains, he spots an enormous, ancient trout one day and instantly recognizes its extraordinary size and age. The quest ignites.

He tries fly after fly across the season, undaunted by the good-natured teasing from a boy who watches nearby. The wily, one-eyed giant—42 inches of half-blind cunning—eludes him time and again… until the final day of the season.

I suspect that if you read this, Humphrey’s exuberant account of that singular moment will linger long after you turn the last page. The world narrows until nothing exists but one man and one fish.

“Nothing remotely resembling his speed and power had I ever experienced in my fishing. Nothing I might have done could have contained him. It was only the confines of the pool that turned him.
Straight up from the water he rose again. Higher than before he rose. It was not desperation that drove him. There was exuberance in his leap, joy of battle, complete self-confidence, glory in his own singularity. Polished silver encrusted with jewels of all colors he was, and of a size not to be believed even by one who had studied him for weeks. I believed now that he had taken my fly for the fun of it. I was quite ready to credit that superfish with knowing this was the last day of the season, even with knowing it was his last season, and of wanting to show the world what, despite age and impairment, he was capable of. Reaching the peak of his leap, he gave a thrash, scattering spray around him. In the sunshine the drops sparkled like his own spots. It was as though a rocket had burst, showering its scintillations upon the air.”

Whether you’re a lifelong angler or someone with only a casual interest in the sport, this tiny book offers outsized rewards—quiet wisdom, vivid beauty, and a deep respect for the creatures we pursue.

[Shaun P Moore · Rating 4 out of 5]

Good, short read. The buildup was great, but overshadowed the final scene.

[Julia]

My dad loves this book so I checked it out. It helped me understand his fishing hobby. Much more complex , & mentally compelling than I had realized. A real sport. My Moby Duck is a well- told story.

[H R Koelling · Rating 4 out of 5]

Neat little book. A quick read weighing in at a mere 96 pages of my Penguin imprint circa 1979.

Ah, the madness the fisherman can experience! It is well described here, with a succinct last paragraph that sums up a lifetime of fly fishing for every angler.

The writing style is dated in comparison to modern novels, hence my four star rating. The author's style harkens back to the somewhat ponderous and excessively complicated compositions of early American prose, such as Melville, Hawthorne, etc., that William Humphrey acknowledges his affinity for. Aside from the antiquated style, it's a fun little book that can be read quickly, which will put a smile on any dedicated angler's face.