A River Runs Through It (Unabridged) [Audio Download]

Sometimes when an author's words are possessed of such crystalline truth, purity and beauty, it is easier to simply let the words do the talking. These words are from Norman MacLean's wonderful little novella "A River Runs Through it". They sparkle with the same shimmering clarity as a star on the bright clear waters of the Big Blackfoot River in Montana where the author fished.

"It is those we live with and love and should know who elude us."

"Now nearly all those I loved and did not understand when I was young are dead, but I still reach out to them.

Of course, now I am too old to be much of a fisherman, and some friends think I shouldn't. Like many fly fishermen in western Montana where the summer days are almost Arctic in length, I often do not start fishing until the cool of the evening. Then in the Arctic half-light of the canyon, all existence fades to a being with my soul and memories and the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River and a four-count rhythm and the hope that fish will rise.

Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.

I am haunted by waters."

Beautiful words that blur the distinction between prose and poetry like the canyon half light. How tragically true it is that we often fail to understand those closest to us. On my computer at work I have these words above a photo of my family. Yes, I have unashamedly girlified my work place. I have in fact out girlied the girlies! These words remind me of just how precious a thing time is and that I am slowly being poured out. I strive to understand my own family and to assemble the building blocks of loving relationships. It is not always easy, and I feel the failure keenly, for it is I that am often to blame. As I run the steep downland hills above the village where I live, I often return in the dark winters gloaming to see the lights of the village twinkling below me. There I stand briefly suspended in time and space, and I am reminded of these words. But these are my words! I too am haunted by waters.

Apart from the Bible these are some of the most powerful and moving words that you are ever likely to read. Highly, highly recommended.

The book is three stories, but A River Runs Through It is the pick of the bunch that is as emotionally charged in print as it is in celluloid. The story is about more than fly fishing, but fishing is the glue that binds in this tale. The author captures the majesty of the region perfectly and the joy of being with people that you love doing things that you love on a beautiful summers day.

I would say that this is more evocative than anything else, but one feels that it would have been an honour indeed to have met the author. Enjoy.

To say that someone is living in the past is usually an insult, but Norman Maclean's early life was so momentous that you could hardly blame him. As the helpful introduction to this work explains, he was living at the end of an era, when the great days of the Wild West and the frontier spirit were coming to an end.

Perhaps above all A River Runs Through It is a hymn to the restorative power of nature. You get the idea that Maclean was not overly impressed with modern life and throughout these stories his voice rings out beautifully, bravely and more than a little sardonically. This a wonderful glimpse of life in the early years of twentieth century rural America.