Gould’s Book of Fish
Gould’s Book of Fish by Richard Flanagan is difficult to describe. It received some rave reviews, which encouraged me to read it.
Upon reflection, I’m now surprised that so many critics were so impressed with a book that doesn’t have a plot.
Normally I would write here a brief summary about the book I’ve read. I can’t say much about Gould’s Book of Fish except it’s set in Tasmania during the convict period. The narrator is a convict artist, who both survives and gets into trouble through his mediocre gift.
The introduction portrays the narrative as wild fiction, which it certainly is. This book is anarchic, challenging, frustrating, stimulating, compelling, bewildering and a host of other things.
I didn’t think I’d make it to the end, but the raw humor made it worthwhile.
There are elements of political correctness in this book, which irritated me. The only heroes are the poor blacks who are killed, pox ridden, abused and mutilated.
Some of the scenes are horrific, but unlike the classic “For the Term of His Natural Life” you can’t believe anything that Flanagan writes, so it’s shock value is mitigated.
I suspect this novel, described somehwere as “post modern”, is more for the Chardonnay set in big cities than it is for ordinary punters who like a good story.
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