The Fisherman: A chilling supernatural horror epic
£2.80
‘Illusory, frightening, and deeply moving, The Fisherman is a modern horror epic. And it’s simply a must read’ Paul Tremblay
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.
‘An epic, yet intimate, horror novel. Langan channels M. R. James, Robert E. Howard and Norman Maclean. What you get is A River Runs Through It… straight to hell’ Laird Barron
More praise for The Fisherman
‘Reading this, your mouth fills with worms. Just let them wriggle and crawl as they will, though—don’t swallow. John Langan is fishing for your sleep, for your soul. I fear he’s already got mine’ Stephen Graham Jones
‘What starts as a slow, melancholy tale gains momentum and drops you head first into a churning nightmare from which you might escape, but you’ll never forget, and the memory of what you saw will change you forever’ Richard Kadrey
‘The Fisherman is a treasure, the kind of book you just want to snuggle up and shiver through. I can’t say enough good things about the confidence, the patience, the satisfying cumulative power of this book. It was a pleasure to read from the first page to the last’ Victor LaValle
‘Stories within stories, folk tales becoming modern legends, all spinning into a fisherman’s tale about the one he wishes had gotten away. Langan’s latest is at turns epic and personal, dense yet compulsively readable, frightening but endearing’ Adam Cesare
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Additional information
| Publisher | Canelo Horror (9 Oct. 2023) |
|---|---|
| Language | English |
| File size | 4045 KB |
| Text-to-Speech | Enabled |
| Enhanced typesetting | Enabled |
| X-Ray | Not Enabled |
| Word Wise | Enabled |
| Sticky notes | On Kindle Scribe |
| Print length | 329 pages |
by Paul M. Feeney
Having heard the name of John Langan mentioned multiple times wherever discussions of emotive, literary dark fiction occurred, yet having never read a word of his fiction, I was intensely curious – eager, perhaps – to sample what talents he was reputed to possess. When I saw the promos and cover for the – at the time I heard of it – forthcoming novel, The Fisherman, I knew I just had to get it and read it (partly this was also because of a lifelong love of the ocean and all things watery; I find stories – especially dark and horror stories – which revolve around the sea and water to be very evocative when done well). So I did. But what did I think? Well, read on and find out…
First off, let me get this out of the way; this story is firmly in the tradition of the literary, the subtly emotive, the slow burn. Though you will find monsters and violence and true horror here, they are secondary to the main point of the story, which revolves around themes of grief, loss, love, friendship, depression, loss of purpose, and other, very human concerns. There is also a hefty dose of the portentous, of a deeply ingrained cosmic horror which pervades nearly the entire piece almost from beginning to end. It gives a sense of the epic to what is, ostensibly, a very intimate portrait of two friends trying to deal with grief in their own ways.
I won’t say too much about the plot, suffice it to recount that the book is narrated by Abe who has lost his wife. He details his feelings in beautifully written lines and passages, talks about finding some kind of way back through fishing, and tells us about Dan, who loses his wife and children to a car crash. It is Abe’s attempts to provide Dan with a similar solace that sets the main wheels of the novel rolling.
The book is divided into three parts (or two parts with one part smack in the middle of the other, if that makes more sense). The first part deals with, as I’ve said Abe’s history, and then Abe and Dan’s friendship, all of which is delivered in one of the most inviting, homely ‘voices’ I’ve read this side of Stephen King. Abe draws you in from the first line, immediately feeling like a fully realised, living, breathing person and it’s wonderful. It makes reading the book that much more enjoyable, but also serves to really immerse you in the story and its details. It even manages to make fishing – an activity I’m ambivalent towards, at best – seem deeply therapeutic and desirable. It’s obvious these sections are written by someone who either knows their subject inside out, or has researched way beyond the call of duty. Equally, those parts dealing with the feelings of grief indicate a writer who just *knows* (one way or the other) how it feels to lose someone, who is deeply empathetic of that immense pain; essentially, showing the insight that makes a great writer. This first section runs on, neither rushed nor laboured, until we start to get into the rather stand-offish friendship between Abe and Dan. For at this point in time, Dan’s grief is too recent, too keen, and he is perhaps not quite ready for the therapeutic powers of fishing that have helped Abe. Yet he does respond in a way, except…where Abe finds a kind of solace in fishing, Dan’s attraction to it seems to take him down a slightly darker path, especially when he discovers mention of a certain Dutchman’s Creek in an obscure book on fishing spots. Something in this book – something he won’t share with Abe – lights a sick fire within him to find this creek. And one day, on their way to find it, they stop at a diner and are told a long story about the history of that particular fishing spot.
Now this is where the second part of the story comes in, a narrative within a narrative which is first recounted to Abe, then by Abe to us with apparently no loss of detail or content. And for me, this is where some of the power of the novel began to unravel. Don’t get me wrong, it is a section absolutely filled with wonderful dark imagery, of a foreboding sense of tragedy and darkness, of cosmic horror, of the weird and the strange, as we’re given the somewhat doom-laden account of Dutchman’s Creek and the tragedies that befell it. However, I found that as this second section went on, it felt almost like a stream-of-consciousness piece, and whilst there’s not necessarily anything wrong with that, it kind of jarred with what had come before it. The scenes and imagery piled on almost by rote, a sort of verging on monotone cadence; and while I enjoyed much of what transpired in this part, I also found it a struggle as it went on. Perhaps that was part of the point, to make the reader weary, but for me, it had the effect of pulling me out of the story in mild frustration. It also seemed a little too much to accept that all of this was being told in a diner to our two main characters in the space of perhaps a couple of hours. Eventually, though, we’re reunited with Abe and Dan, and find out – partly through the mid-section narrative – just why Dan wants to find this creek so much. And rest assured, there’s little that’s good concerning his desires; though it is, tragically, eminently understandable why he would want to seek the creek (pardon the rough rhyming). Ultimately, I found the voice – and tale – of Abe and Dan to be the centre-piece of the novel, and it was perhaps a little unsettling to abandon them partway through for a very long section detailing the history of the location they’re trying to reach. Perhaps this could have been cut down somewhat, or delivered in some other way, or perhaps this is simply me imagining how *I* would write it, how *I* would have preferred it. As it is, it’s a very subjective mark-down (I can’t stress just how subjective it is with regards to this particular work, given the almost universal accolades it’s received), but that coupled with the frequent typos, and need for a little more editing work just let the book down for me a little. The ending is wonderful, apocalyptic and epic, and very satisfying. There is much to enjoy here, from the warm if melancholic tones of Abe, to the almost Barker-esque levels of dark awe and majestic horror. For me, it only just falls short of being perfect, but I would certainly read more from Langan, and, indeed, I’d be open to rereading The Fisherman, especially as I now know what to expect in terms of tone and pace.
Definitely a worthy addition to the halls of literary dark fiction, if not quite up there for me with the best in my estimation.
by John Gray
Excellently written, moving, frightening, deeply atmospheric. The story of The Fisherman feels like a real folktale. There’s a motif here, about stories, words, language. Truth can be slippery, like a caught fish…It’s a story within a story. Some things are made clear, others left delightfully vague.
by David Brian
A solid 4.5 stars.
The Fisherman by John Langan reads like a sprawling generational epic of a tale; albeit, it’s a story which the author somehow manages to squeeze onto 266 pages. Still, for the most part it’s a job well done.
The novel actually turns out to be a story within a story, and as the book first opens we begin to learn about two men, Abe & Dan, workmates who develop a bond inspired by the grievous losses each has suffered in their lives, and strengthened by the common interest they both hold for fishing. The characterization in this portion of the novel is exceptionally good, and it is difficult not to share Abe and Dan’s turmoil.
The duo relish trying new locales, and as they are on the lookout for new sites to fish, they make a decision to try their lines in the waters of the little known Dutchman’s Creek. This, along with a torrid rainstorm, and a chance conversation with a man named Howard, leads into a story of bygone days, and we begin to learn about Der Fischer.
Der Fischer begins generations ago, and is centered around a German immigrant named Rainer Schmidt, and his family members. Rainer is a man of books; Arcane books, and it is the knowledge he has garnered from these tomes – particularly his knowledge of extra-normal realities, and entities – will be called upon to provide salvation for the entire community in which he lives and works.
Rainer’s section of the story provides a backdrop of understanding to the events that occur, and Der Fischer is a splendidly unsettling read that takes up a good 150 pages of the book. For the last 60 odd pages we return to the present day, and events affecting Abe and Dan. This, at least for me, was the least satisfactory part of the book. Although it wraps the story up competently, and it produces a finale that matches the overall tone of the book, these final scenes still felt kind of rushed.
Also, given how well the characters of Abe and Dan had been developed early on, I felt a level of disconnect with them following the lengthy Der Fischer. Dan’s character in particular didn’t seem like the same person I’d met early in the book. I guess his behavior could be explained by grief, but given that parts 1&3 of the book are separated in real time by little more than an hour, there seemed a sizable shift in Dan’s character.
Nevertheless, despite what is a minor gripe on my part, The Fisherman really is a splendid read; one which I recommend to everyone who enjoys quality dark fiction.
One more thing: I have the paperback edition, and what a gorgeous cover it is.
by Carmilla
The Fisherman is a nightmarish wonder – part occult horror, part folktale and part cosmic terror.
What would have been a slow start, building character and providing a wealth of background ready to springboard the reader into chaotic hellscapes in part 3, was expertly weaved with foreshadowing that effectively bulldozed any thoughts that this might be a gentle read.
Abe is a believable and sympathetic, if sometimes self-destructive, main character. Fishing has become his lifeline (pun intended) and he is eager to share its solace after Dan, a work colleague, loses his wife and sons in a terrible accident.
Suspicious of Dan’s obvious lie when Abe asks how he learned of Dutchman’s Creek, and discomfited by the tall tale told by the café owner – where they ate breakfast on the morning he and Dan will face unfathomable horrors – Abe brushes his doubts aside and follows his friend to the raging black waters and catches the strangest fish he has ever seen before hurtling into a mind-bending, life-changing nightmare from which he will never truly awake.
A true masterpiece of horror fiction. If you haven’t read The Fisherman yet, I reckon it’s time you do.