John Langan's The Fisherman is what I would call a genuine weird tale, an appealing blend of cosmic and folk horror in an epic-sized novel. I listened to the audiobook, narrated by Danny Campbell, whose spot-on presentation made for an engaging, oftentimes gripping listening experience.
The Fisherman, as has been frequently noted, unfolds with slow deliberation, establishing character and atmosphere with vivid, colorful prose. The story opens with narrator Abe, a recent widower, becoming enamored of fishing. He develops a friendship with one of his co-workers, Dan, who is also a recent widower. Together, they share a few enjoyable outings at various rivers and creeks throughout upstate New York, and eventually seek out a new location for a fishing trip, the innocently named Dutchman's Creek, which connects the century-old Ashokan Reservoir with the Hudson River.
At this point, the novel becomes a narrative within a narrative by way of a story related to Abe and Dan by one "Howard" at a local diner (Langan's description of Howard's physical resemblance to H.P. Lovecraft is hardly coincidental). Howard relates the lengthy story of several families in the early twentieth century, whose lives are intertwined by their connections to the construction of the reservoir. Suffice it to say that complications of the preternatural variety affect each of the characters, oftentimes to profound degrees.
This secondary narrative initially feels more than a bit jarring because it interrupts the story's dramatic flow at what seems an inopportune moment and, rather unexpectedly, becomes the novel's lengthier and deeper focus. Still, once past my initial bemusement, I became immersed in the wandering, sometimes unsettling detour. The narrative's beats in many ways echo those of Lovecraft's "The Colour Out of Space," although Langan presents us with far more kinetic action than Lovecraft would have ever dreamed of penning, while also imbuing his characters with greater depth and poignancy than any the Old Gent ever seemed capable of conceiving.
Eventually, this verbally related "folk tale" finds its climax, and attention returns to Abe and Dan, whose ventures into the land around Dutchman's Creek begin to mesh with those in Howard's tale. Make no mistake, that Howard could have told such a lengthy, detailed account from such an earlier time defies logic, and Langan addresses this issue with masterful aplomb. The now-continued primary narrative spins its own web of disturbing threads that finally lead to a wonderfully satisfying conclusion, creating what I would call a story far stronger than the sum of its various parts. While not what I would call a perfect novel, The Fisherman hits enough perfect notes throughout its length that it could indeed be considered a pivotal work in the realm of cosmic horror.
Four and a half out of five Damned Rodan's Dirty Firetinis.
