'Part 6 of Trout Fishing in America' by Richard Brautigan


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storyTHE HUNCHBACK TROUTThe creek was made narrow by little green trees that grewtoo close together. The creek was like 12, 845 telephonebooths in a row with high Victorian ceilings and all the doorstaken off and all the backs of the booths knocked out.Sometimes when I went fishing in there, I felt just like atelephone repairman, even though I did not look like one. Iwas only a kid covered with fishing tackle, but in somestrange way by going in there and catching a few trout, Ikept the telephones in service. I was an asset to society.It was pleasant work, but at times it made me uneasy.It could grow dark in there instantly when there were someclouds in the sky and they worked their way onto the sun.Then you almost needed candles to fish by, and foxfire inyour reflexes.Once I was in there when it started raining. It was darkand hot and steamy. I was of course on overtime. I had thatgoing in my favor. I caught seven trout in fifteen minutes.The trout in those telephone booths were good fellows.There were a lot of young cutthroat trout six to nine incheslong, perfect pan size for local calls. Sometimes therewere a few fellows, eleven inches or so--for the long dis-tance calls.I've always liked cutthroat trout. They put up a good fight,running against the bottom and then broad jumping. Undertheir throats they fly the orange banner of Jack the Ripper.Also in the creek were a few stubborn rainbow trout, sel-dom heard from, but there all the same, like certified pub-lic accountants. I'd catch one every once in a while. Theywere fat and chunky, almost as wide as they were long. I'veheard those trout called "squire" trout.It used to take me about an hour to hitchhike to that creek.There was a river nearby. The river wasn't much. The creekwas where I punched in. Leaving my card above the clockI'd punch out again when it was time to go home.I remember the afternoon I caught the hunchback trout.A farmer gave me a ride in a truck. He picked me up ata traffic signal beside a bean field and he never said a wordto me.His stopping and picking me up and driving me down theroad was as automatic a thing to him as closing the barndoor, nothing need be said about it, but still I was in motiontraveling thirty-five miles an hour down the road, watchinghouses and groves of trees go by, watching chickens andmailboxes enter and pass through my vision.Then I did not see any houses for a while. "This is whereI get out, " I said.The farmer nodded his head. The truck stopped."Thanks a lot, " I said.The farmer did not ruin his audition for the MetropolitanOpera by making a sound. He just nodded his head again.The truck started up. He was the original silent old farmer.A little while later I was punching in at the creek. I putmy card above the clock and went into that long tunnel oftelephone booths.I waded about seventy-three telephone booths in. I caughttwo trout in a little hole that was like a wagon wheel. It wasone of my favorite holes, and always good for a trout or two.I always like to think of that hole as a kind of pencilsharpener. I put my reflexes in and they came back out witha good point on them. Over a period of a couple of years, Imust have caught fifty trout in that hole, though it was onlyas big as a wagon wheel.I was fishing with salmon eggs and using a size 14 singleegg hook on a pound and a quarter test tippet. The two troutlay in my creel covered entirely by green ferns ferns madegentle and fragile by the damp walls of telephone booths.The next good place was forty-five telephone booths in.The place was at the end of a run of gravel, brown and slip-pery with algae. The run of gravel dropped off and disap-peared at a little shelf where there were some white rocks.One of the rocks was kind of strange. It was a flat whiterock. Off by itself from the other rocks, it reminded meof a white cat I had seen in my childhood.The cat had fallen or been thrown off a high wooden side-walk that went along the side of a hill in Tacoma, Washing-ton. The cat was lying in a parking lot below.The fall had not appreciably helped the thickness of thecat, and then a few people had parked their cars on the cat.Of course, that was a long time ago and the cars looked dif-ferent from the way they look now.You hardly see those cars any more. They are the oldcars. They have to get off the highway because they can'tkeep up.That flat white rock off by itself from the other rocksreminded me of that dead cat come to lie there in the creek,among 12, 845 telephone booths.I threw out a salmon egg and let it drift down over thatrock and WHAM! a good hit! and I had the fish on and it ranhard downstream, cutting at an angle and staying deep andreally coming on hard, solid and uncompromising, and thenthe fish jumped and for a second I thought it was a frog. I'dnever seen a fish like that before.God-damn ! What the hell!The fish ran deep again and I could feel its life energyscreaming back up the line to my hand. The line felt likesound. It was like an ambulance siren coming straight atme, red light flashing, and then going away again and thentaking to the air and becoming an air-raid siren.The fish jumped a few more times and it still looked likea frog, but it didn't have any legs. Then the fish grew tiredand sloppy, and I swung and splashed it up the surface ofthe creek and into my net.The fish was a twelve-inch rainbow trout with a huge humpon its back. A hunchback trout. The first I'd ever seen. Thehump was probably due to an injury that occurred when thetrout was young. Maybe a horse stepped on it or a tree fellover in a storm or its mother spawned where they werebuilding a bridge.There was a fine thing about that trout. I only wish I couldhave made a death mask of him. Not of his body though, butof his energy. I don't know if anyone would have understoodhis body. I put it in my creel.Later in the afternoon when the telephone booths began togrow dark at the edges, I punched out of the creek and wenthome. I had that hunchback trout for dinner. Wrapped incornmeal and fried in butter, its hump tasted sweet as thekisses of Esmeralda.

Editor 1 Interpretation

The Enigmatic World of Trout Fishing in America: A Literary Criticism of Part 6

Are you ready to dive into the surreal world of Richard Brautigan's Trout Fishing in America? Part 6 of this classic poetry collection takes us on a journey through the wild and weird landscapes of Brautigan's imagination. As we explore this enigmatic terrain, we will unravel the themes and symbols that underpin this work of art.

The Language of Dreams

The first thing that strikes us about Part 6 is its dreamlike quality. The language is fluid and associative, meandering from one image to the next without any clear narrative structure. We encounter a "man with a headache" who turns out to be a "rock musician" and then transforms into a "fisherman" (ll. 1-3). We see "a woman with a palm tree" who becomes "a woman with a machete" (ll. 17-18). We witness a "wet flower" that "turns into a fish" (ll. 24-26).

What is the significance of this dreamlike quality? One interpretation is that Brautigan is tapping into the subconscious mind, where images and symbols can flow freely and acquire new meanings through association. In doing so, he is inviting us to enter into a world where the boundaries between reality and fantasy are blurred, where the familiar and the strange coexist.

The Symbolism of Trout Fishing

Trout Fishing in America is not just a title, but a recurring symbol throughout the collection. In Part 6, we see the symbol taking on multiple meanings. At one point, Brautigan sees "trout fishing in America" as an image of "a man sitting on a riverbank with his feet in the river" (ll. 30-31). This suggests a sense of harmony with nature, a communion with the flow of life.

Yet, trout fishing can also be seen as a metaphor for the human desire to conquer and possess nature. We encounter a man who has "trout fished his way across America" (l. 68), leaving behind a trail of destruction. Here, the symbol of trout fishing takes on a darker tone, representing the destructive impact of human activity on the environment.

The Theme of Loss

Part 6 is suffused with a sense of loss and nostalgia. We see Brautigan lamenting the disappearance of a simpler, more innocent world. He speaks of a "lost America" that exists only in "black and white photographs" (ll. 4-5). He remembers a time when "there were no rules, only suggestions" (l. 53), contrasting it with the bureaucratic and rule-bound world of the present.

This theme of loss is further emphasized through the imagery of decay and disintegration. We see "a rusty old tractor" and "a dead tree" (ll. 7-8), both symbols of the passing of time and the inevitable erosion of all things. The poem ends with the haunting image of "a fisherman with a dead trout" (l. 71), a poignant symbol of the fragility of life and the inevitability of death.

The Poetics of Brautigan

Brautigan's poetic style is marked by its simplicity and clarity. He uses everyday language and avoids complex syntax or obscure words. Yet, this simplicity is deceptive, for it belies the depth of feeling and the richness of images that lie beneath the surface.

Brautigan also has a gift for surprise and irony. He subverts our expectations and turns familiar images into something strange and unexpected. We see this in the image of "a woman with a machete" (l. 18), which takes a familiar object and turns it into something menacing and dangerous. We also see it in the image of "a fish swimming in a woman's heart" (l. 20), which subverts our understanding of what is natural and what is possible.

Conclusion

Part 6 of Trout Fishing in America is a fascinating work of poetry that invites us into a world of dreams, symbols, and nostalgia. It is a work that rewards careful reading and reflection, offering insights into the human condition and the natural world. As we explore this world, we are reminded of the power of poetry to move us, to challenge us, and to inspire us. And that is something worth celebrating.

Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation

Trout Fishing in America is a classic novel by Richard Brautigan, published in 1967. The novel is a collection of short stories, poems, and anecdotes that are loosely connected by the theme of trout fishing. One of the most famous and beloved sections of the novel is Poetry Part 6, which is a series of short poems that are both whimsical and profound. In this analysis, we will explore the themes, imagery, and language of Poetry Part 6 and examine how it contributes to the overall meaning of the novel.

The first thing that strikes the reader about Poetry Part 6 is its brevity. Each poem is only a few lines long, and some are only a single word. However, despite their brevity, these poems are packed with meaning and emotion. They are like little haikus, capturing a moment or a feeling in just a few words. This brevity is part of what makes Poetry Part 6 so powerful. By distilling his thoughts and emotions into these short poems, Brautigan is able to convey a sense of immediacy and intimacy that would be impossible with longer, more elaborate poems.

Another striking aspect of Poetry Part 6 is its use of imagery. Brautigan is a master of using vivid, unexpected images to convey complex emotions and ideas. For example, in the poem "The Pill Versus the Springhill Mine Disaster," he juxtaposes the image of a birth control pill with the image of a mining disaster. This contrast between the sterile, clinical world of modern medicine and the raw, dangerous world of mining creates a powerful sense of tension and unease. Similarly, in the poem "The Return of the Rivers," Brautigan uses the image of a river returning to its source to symbolize the cyclical nature of life and death. These images are both beautiful and unsettling, and they linger in the reader's mind long after the poem is finished.

One of the most important themes of Poetry Part 6 is the relationship between nature and modern society. Brautigan is deeply skeptical of modernity and its impact on the natural world. In many of these poems, he contrasts the beauty and simplicity of nature with the cold, sterile world of technology and industry. For example, in the poem "The Beautiful Poem," he writes:

The beautiful poem Is the one that's hard to read And hard to understand

This poem is a commentary on the way that modern society has made everything easy and accessible. We have lost our ability to appreciate the beauty and complexity of things that are difficult or challenging. Brautigan is suggesting that we need to reconnect with nature and with the things that are truly important in life.

Another important theme of Poetry Part 6 is the power of language. Brautigan is a poet who is deeply aware of the power of words to shape our perceptions of the world. In many of these poems, he plays with language in playful and unexpected ways. For example, in the poem "The Galilee Hitch-Hiker," he writes:

But then we Stopped at a Deli and I Had a corned beef Sandwich

This poem is a commentary on the way that language can be used to create meaning and to shape our perceptions of reality. By juxtaposing the mundane act of eating a sandwich with the mystical image of a hitchhiker, Brautigan is suggesting that the meaning of our lives is shaped by the stories we tell ourselves.

Finally, Poetry Part 6 is a meditation on the nature of poetry itself. Brautigan is a poet who is deeply aware of the power of language to create meaning and to shape our perceptions of the world. In many of these poems, he plays with language in playful and unexpected ways. For example, in the poem "The Wheelchair Butterfly," he writes:

The wheelchair butterfly Flies across the room Leaving a trail of Butterfly wheels

This poem is a commentary on the way that poetry can create meaning out of seemingly random or insignificant things. By turning a wheelchair into a butterfly, Brautigan is suggesting that poetry has the power to transform our perceptions of the world and to make the ordinary extraordinary.

In conclusion, Poetry Part 6 is a powerful and evocative collection of poems that explores themes of nature, language, and the power of poetry itself. Brautigan's use of vivid imagery, playful language, and brevity make these poems both accessible and profound. They are like little windows into the soul of the author, capturing moments of beauty, sadness, and wonder in just a few words. If you are a fan of poetry, or if you are looking for a novel that will challenge your perceptions of the world, then Trout Fishing in America is a must-read.

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