Blood Knots: Of Fathers, Friendship and Fishing

Buy this book! Once in every generation a work of undeniable genius appears in England: this is it."Blood Knots" by Luke Jennings was originally published in 2010, to very complimentary reviews. It has subsequently been reprinted as a paperback and a new American hardback edition has now issued. I have obtained a copy. This may be the most eloquent testimony that I can give: I did so because my original copy, a paperback, had begun to fall to bits. I had carried it around in my briefcase and, if waiting to see the doctor, riding on the Underground, or otherwise forced to be inactive for a while, I would open it and read it. It is one of those rare books that you can open randomly at any page and find something enjoyable. The American edition has the additional advantage of an excellent introduction by Thomas McGuane, author of "The Longest Silence." My only criticism of the introduction is that McGuane refers to Jennings' mentor, Robert Nairac, as an SAS officer; he was in fact from the Grenadier Guards.Luke Jennings is a renaissance man. In addition to being a serious angler and a brilliant writer on angling, he has written several novels and is the dance critic of the Observer newspaper. An apparently devout Catholic, although he deplored the modernising changes that emerged from Vatican II, he was educated at Ampleforth Abbey, the Benedictine monastery in Yorkshire whose school, Ampleforth College, is regarded as "the Catholic Eton".As a child in the 1960s, Jennings was fascinated by the streams and lakes near his home. His father, a courageous cavalry officer badly burned in a tank battle in 1944, was not a fisherman and could not have angled, given the horrific injuries that his hands had sustained. He did however buy his son his first rod, setting him on a path that would lead to many waterways, from chalk trout streams in Southern England to dangerous hidden canals in north London where great pike lurk among the abandoned trolleys and other rubbish, and muggers and prostitutes lurk among the canal-side undergrowth. Jennings' father, who comes across as modest, truthful, deeply moral and quietly heroic, was his first mentor and helped to set his moral compass, as well as gradually introducing him to country pursuits. Other Fathers, the monks of Ampleforth, also helped: quietly preparing boys not for material success in life, but for right living and holy dying.At the age of twelve Jennings had the luck to encounter for the first time Robert Nairac, then aged nineteen, who had just left Ampleforth and was spending a gap year as an Assistant Master teaching History at Jennings' prep school before going to Oxford to read Mediaeval and Military History. After Oxford he joined the Army. He and Jennings were destined to be friends for just nine years. Nairac proved to be an inspirational teacher, whose tuition extended beyond the classroom to introducing his protégé to serious angling, including dry-fly fishing; shooting and falconry. So began an enlightening, but often dark-shadowed journey, of discovery. It would lead to bright streams and wild country, but would end with his mentor's abduction, torture and murder by the IRA in 1977.Robert Nairac was as great a moral influence as Jennings' father. He was not a typical 60s teenager. He was an old-fashioned and devout Catholic or almost mediaeval intensity, as well as a fanatical devotee of field sports; the two, religion and sports, being mystically - and sometimes bloodily - entwined in Nairac's scheme of things. Jennings sums up Nairac's lesson far more eloquently than I could: "I understand now why Robert was absolutist in his method, and why he spoke of honour and dry fly in the same sentence. Because the rules we impose on ourselves are everything - especially in the face of nature which, for all its outward poetry, is a slaughterhouse. It's not a question of wilfully making things harder, but of a purity of approach without which success has no meaning. And this, ultimately, was his lesson: that the fiercest joy is to be a spectator of your own conduct and find no cause for complaint." How many of us are in that happy position? It seems that Nairac was.The book has an elegiac quality throughout. So many of the characters have died, often quite young. Another of Jennings' angling friends (pike angling in this case) was Rene Berg, the musician, vocalist, guitarist, and songwriter. He too died young in 2003. The cause of death was not an overdose but a culmination of depression and years of hard living and drinking taking their toll."Blood Knots" is a great book on angling but, like Izaak Walton's The Compleat Angler, it can be read and enjoyed as literature by non-anglers. I have done very little fishing but finished the book at two sittings. It is un-put-downable. Two people to whom I gave copies - one a keen angler, the other a non-angler - found it equally irresistible. Part of the pleasure of reading it is the concisely elegant prose, which is worthy of a seventeenth-century writer. I do not know Jennings but suspect that he is very familiar with the writings of Sir Thomas Browne, Robert Burton and George Herbert. If you are only browsing the book, read Chapter 17, the shortest chapter, devoted to Claude Lorrain's painting Landscape with the Nymph Egeria in the Capodimonte Museum in Naples (and yes; it is relevant to the theme). `Past, present and future are one'.

This is an engagingly pleasant and rambling fishing memoir, which begins with a telling and edgy sketch of angling in a dingy London canal. The central power of Jennings' book is his evocation of meeting and fly fishing with the dashing young Robert Nairac, who was later murdered by the IRA. With a deft touch, Jennings hints at how his early hero-worship of Nairac was tempered by his later realization that the glamorous but possibly reactionary Nairac had a strong reckless streak (which turned out to be fatal). There are amusing reminiscences of Avisford prep school (curiously, Jennings does not say that his father was the headmaster) and some truly hilarious chapters on Ampleforth College. Jennings's account of his father's bravery and burning in World war Two is affecting, though the part which his mother played in his life (surely not insignificant?) is not mentioned.Jennings characterises fishing as connecting with nature, which makes sense. His descriptions of particular fishing episodes are marvellously evocative. There is too much technical detail on fishing tackle for me (which others may find interesting), but the relaxed style is a pleasure to read.In some ways, this book was surprisingly (though lightly) nostalgic and concerned with what it means to be English, in a suitably under-stated and non-analytical way - and all the more powerful for that. A curious aspect - again, quite English - is that Jennings seems to be non-religious and yet he regrets the modernising impact which Vatican II had on Catholicism.

I came across this book when I was looking for books on Capt Robert Nairac and after reading all the postive reveiws I thought I would give this a try - and I am so very glad I did.On the surface this book is about fishing, but this beautiful work is so much more than this, it is about friendship and family relationships and is a fantastic read. The book evokes a lot of emotions, it made me laugh out loud as well as making me feel wistful and sometimes sad. The author writes in such a beautiful way that even the passages about fishing were engaging, which is impressive as I have never been interested in fishing.I finished this book in three days, and it was truly a joy to read. One of the other reviewers made reference to the fact this is one of the most endearing books they have read and I thoroughly agree. The joy of reading this book has stayed with me and it is one of those books I can imagine rereading many times in the years to come. I cannot recommend this wonderful book enough, please give it a try I am sure you will not be disappointed.

My wife suggested to me that I read this book as she had heard it on Radio 4's book of the week.I have not fished since my teenage years but she thought that it would appeal to me as it was about the countryside and growing up in the 50's and 60's as I had.What a wonderfully evocative book.I was sent reeling back to my childhood and happy halycon days in the meadows near my home.I can quite honestly say that I have never enjoyed a book as much as this one.The Robert Nairac interest is fascinating and keeps cropping up during the book and keeps you transfixed to every page.I suggest that every male of a certain age reads this to put some perspective into life.A truly worthwhile read.

As far from Killing Eve as it is possible to get. Gentle reading, tales of the riverbank, a father - son relationship and being out in nature. Bought it for a fishing friend in reminiscence of peaceful afternoons spent watching him cast a line for trout.