Charles Cotton (1630–1687)

Let’s get real here: y’all know I only read this book because of the pictures… But I did give it a decent try and made it about 30 pages before the inane ramblings of the author’s frame story protagonist made me start flipping pages at speed, searching for illustrations and illustrations alone. Being originally published in 1676 and ostensibly being a practical book meant to educate the amateur angler, I was a bit surprised that Arthur Rackham, one of England’s leading illustrators show more of children’s books, took on this commission. But, then again, he was a pretty typical Englishman of his time, and country pursuits were a popular pastime (or curiosity) for many. Having skipped the story further than its introductory chapters, many of the illustrations lacked narrative context, but I nonetheless appreciated Rackham’s typical care in treatment of his subject matter. Gone may be his whimsically twisted trees from the landscape, but a few hobgoblins still crept into the marginalia and chapter-heading sketches! Careful linework brings his illustrations to life (no matter how small or apparently inconsequential the image), and he tries out varying styles of silhouettes, straight lines, and shadow work throughout the story to much success. Rounding out the collection with a smattering of full-colour watercolour pieces in trademark tea-stained washes, this publication may actually be a more well-rounded exploration of his range of styles than many of Rackham’s other sets of work! I may not be particularly entranced with the mundane fisherman’s subject matter, but I will give him credit for tackling his subject with typical style and throwing in a few beautifully done pieces of black and white line art that shouldn’t be ignored by any Rackham fan. show less

I survive, a jolly candidate for 1821. Another cup of wine—and while that turncoat bell, that just now mournfully chanted the obsequies of 1820 departed, with changed notes lustily rings in a successor, let us attune to its peal the song made on a like occasion, by hearty, cheerful Mr. Cotton.
—
The New Year

Hark, the cock crows, and yon bright star
Tells us the day himself’s not far;
And see where, breaking from the night,
He gilds the western hills with light.
[…]
Then let us welcome the show more New Guest
With lusty brimmers of the best;
Mirth always should Good Fortune meet,
And renders e’en Disaster sweet:
And though the Princess turn her back,
Let us but line ourselves with sack,
We better shall by far hold out,
Till the next Year she face about.

How say you, reader—do not these verses smack of the rough magnanimity of the old English vein? Do they not fortify like a cordial; enlarging the heart, and productive of sweet blood, and generous spirits, in the concoction?

--Lamb to Wordsworth, 30 Jan 1821 show less

This English classic is known, at least by name, to nearly everyone. Is it a textbook on fishing? Yes, but it is much more than that. Written as a dialog between the Angler and various country folk such as shepherds, farmers and milkmaids, the instructions on catching fish are interspersed with a delightful hodge-podge of rural anecdotes, character studies, moral lessons, recipes, songs and poetry. The practice of angling is portrayed as practically the perfect occupation, teachings as it show more does the skills of reasoning and observation of Nature together with the virtues of patience and harmony. The second author listed after Walton, Charles Cotton, was his adopted son who was a skilled fisherman in his own right. Cotton wrote the section on fly-fishing as Walton had little knowledge of that area. show less

First of all must come Izaak Walton, who "studied to be quiet" in times almost as troubled as our own. I have him in several editions but I am sure that anyone who does not already know him should make a point of meeting him first in the World's Classics where is John Buchan's admirable introduction to Walton and Cotton together. There are plenty of other editions, but John Buchan makes this my favourite, though I should be sorry to be without the charming brown-leather-jerkined facsimile of show more the first edition of The Compleat Angler published (a noble act of piety) by A. and C. Black, to whom fishermen owe so much. Here it is, the little brown dumpling of a book just as it slipped modestly into existence, in St. Dunstan's churchyard in Fleet Street in 1653, that critical, stirring year of the Commonwealth, four years after Charle the First had been beheaded, the year of the dissolution of the Long Parliament, six years before the Restoration, and yet a year when Piscator could stretch his legs up Totnam Hill to go fishing by Ware "this fine pleasant fresh May day in the morning".

Arthur Ransome, Fishing (1955), pp. 10-11. show less