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The title is taken from C S Lewis I think, although it has been used multiple times on multiple people. I like the sound of it and the message – old books can be quite underrated these days. First of all, there is something purely of age, as people like old things. At the very least withstanding the test of time shows that there is a bit of quality. But mostly, if one is interested in humanity and human nature, it is a small view in the minds of past people.

History taught in Romania schools can be very limited from my point of view, concentrating on some major events which are considered notable. It is mostly rulers, battles, and lots of dates to be remembered for no particular reason. Also dates must be constantly converted from Julian to Gregorian calendars, because why the hell not. As a result most children don’t like history class and often do not learn history at all. I like history, but learned most of it outside school. School history annoyed me like it did most of my mates. And I always liked to read what was known for a given time period about how people lived and though, the laws the culture the economy. Not whoever was the big boss.

Old books can help a lot in understanding past people, sometimes more than histories. History books, while valuable, can be highly biased. Most chroniclers were paid by this king or that lord and wrote to please the patron. There is much boasting, exaggeration, and general nonsense.

Now, while it may be interesting to have actual old books, dusty ancient tomes of forgotten lore (I just wanted to use the word lore) around, I do not have any. But there is project Guttenberg and a new invention of the ebook reader. So making due.

Case in point:
http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/683

Many or more accurately most old books that were written and survived to our modern days are religious or philosophical texts, myths or epics, chronicles of whole nations. But once in a while there is a book that is none of that stuff. But a quiet book, more reduced in scope but not in insight. It is simply on how to fish and live well, a fragment of Merry Olde England, of the 1650s, give or take. Which is why I like it, being a non-fishermen and all. Fishing, to be blunt is boring. It takes a long time and you don’t catch anything. But it can be of use if catching is not the point, but it is more of a form of meditation. I like to stare at a lake or river sometimes, to empty my thoughts, but usually I skip the rod in the water bit.

Now where was I? Right, back to the book. The author is one Izaak Walton, an innkeeper ‘s son by origin, an ironmonger by trade, and a writer by vocation. He lived through the English Civil War, a somewhat hectic and troubled time – oft covered by the standard histories and history classes. You learn of the Roundheads and their 7 game series against the Cavaliers, you learn dates and battles, laws and beheadings. Of Cromwell (MVP) and parliaments, and maybe what happened in Ireland. But what do you learn of the correct way to snag a trout or cook a chub, I ask you?

After said hectic times, old Izaak retired to the countryside, and spoke about the slow life, calm, quiet, contemplative. Fly fishing was an art and a form of quiet meditation. Also, to paraphrase the philosopher Ron Swanson, you get to kill something.

The book is, mind you, a bit pastoral fantasy, a walk through the countryside of the time that is more than slightly idealized.

There really is a lot about fish.  Which time of year a certain type bites, what bait to use, how to make artificial lures (apparently, duck feathers work differently from pheasant feathers.) He talks also of over-fishing and environmental protection, and references the tragedy of the commons – a problem, he states, with rivers being that which belongs to all belongs to none. He also covers the subtle difference between making and enforcing legislation– there were types of fishing nets that were illegal to fish with since 1400s, but still were sold in most markets.

The book is in the form of a conversation, and it is not, to be fair, what one would call an easy read, if one does not like the style. It is the type of conversation where many lines are actually long speeches, so it is not necessarily a natural conversation, unless that is how people conversed at the time. The main characters are the fisherman Piscator and the hunter Venator meet early in the morning while walking from the city towards the countryside, and are glad of company and conversation, as the road can be lonely. The plot –so to speak- is Piscator teaching Venator angling, after the hunter was somewhat dismissive of the fisherman’s pastime, considering his passion more noble and interesting. By the way of conversation on the road he is won over by the angler, who begins teaching craft and life philosophy (and why otters should be made extinct, as they eat too much fish).

Throughout the book they travel the English countryside, looking for good bits of river and good clean houses, with honest landladies. A good house had clean rooms, clean bed-sheets smelling of lavender, and the landlady should be able dress (as in cook) your fish and make good ale. Ale was essential back then and not made industrially. Each house made its own ale. These houses were not the large inns of fantasy literature or RPGs, but smaller affairs with a few rooms to rent, and each traveller knew a few good ones.

As always, not all fish were appreciated in 1600s England, the trout and eel being considered the best, the chub one of the worst. This is where cooking- how to dress your fish- became important, as almost any fish could become a good meal if you knew how. The key, as far as I understood it reading the book, was lots of butter – a quarter pound or more – and some fragrant herbs, maybe some wine in the sauce. But mostly butter.

For each fish covered, chub or perch, trout or carp, eel or pike, the standard chapter tells you when it is in season, how to catch it and how to cook it. Maybe braised in wine, baked in the oven should one be available, or roasted on a spit, often stuffed with herbs and mushrooms and oysters. Do remember the quarter pound of butter though.

I liked reading about the European carp, as it is a very widely eaten fish in present day Romania, and some of the things in the book still apply. It is mentioned that the fish caught in running water is better than from still water. At Romanian fish mongers, the price and quality ranks are similar, wild caught carp is better than farmed, river caught is better than lake/pond fish. The best is considered the Danube carp, usually at least twice more expensive the farmed one. Another thing casually mentioned in the book as anecdote is how Jews eat the carp roe because their religion forbids them sturgeon roe. I understand from this that Englishmen did not eat carp roe, but present day Romanians do, usually mixed with mayo and onion. Althoug pike roe is proffered for this preparation.

In the book mister Walton speaks highly of good ale, but also on the importance of moderation. He usually has one glass in the morning as his breakfast drink, and he will not drink another until dinner (midday meal), and maybe one or two more in the evening, with good company and good conversation. In the beginning of the book, the travelers plan a stop for the morning pint at a good, honest house – you needed to know of one nearby anywhere you were – before heading to the fishing grounds.

Anyway I shouldn’t go on about it too much. I recommend the book, it is free and available, and so give it a read if it sounds good to you, might be an interesting view of 350 years ago, give or take.