I thought as part of my usual series of book reviews that I would include some titles that I keep picking up again and again, because they intrigue me. I love a good book. I get seduced by the language, the plot-line, the structure of the book. Gould’s Book of Fish is one that seduces me with its layout too.

 

 

The story starts in the present day with a larrikin con-man selling old furniture re-interpreted as antiques to American tourists looking for the great colonial story. One day, when scouring through an old meat safe in a dusty second-hand store, Sid Hammet happens across an old book that is to become his obsession. It is filled with strange tales and curious images of fish. When it disappears in mysterious circumstances, he vows to recreate it, word for word, fish for fish.

It is a book written by larrikin con-man and artist William Buelow Gould, a convict of Sarah Island, Tasmania. The images of fish are interwoven with stories of life on the island, telling that all is not how it should be.

Now Gould is a really truly non-fictional convict artist transported to Tasmania who actually painted all manner of things, and the true story is that he painted portraits and all sorts of other stuff in order to repay his misbegotten debts and to keep himself out of worse trouble than he was already in.

However, Flanagan’s fiction departs subtly from the truth and tells the story of Gould landing in jail, whereupon he is required to paint pictures for the officer in charge in return for access to paints and paper and less harsh treatment. However, his cell is at the edge of the water, and is subject to tidal inundation. Gould still manages to snaffle and hide enough paper to paint images of the strange fish he sees. He also tells his story, and uses whatever pigment he can find to write with – squid ink, blood, the scales of a fish.

This story within a story tells of an entirely different folly to what is recorded in official convict records, and it is told with the words of a man who thinks of himself as more, or less worthy of his fate, but never sees himself as he truly is. 

One of the sweet things I love about this book is that the text is printed in subtle changes of colour, each chapter differing from the last, reflecting the vagaries of the sea, and of Gould’s fate. The language is rich and colourful, oscillating between the archaic and modern. The storyline is at times whimsical and humourous, the characters are both alluring and repulsive. But beware – the visions of Gould are visceral. Gruesome is the life of a convict, and this book is no place for the faint-hearted.

Certainly, it is a book you either love or hate. I love it.

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Do you have favourite books that you read again and again? Tell me! Would love some recommendations!