Glenn Gould, one of the worlds most renowned classical musicians of the twentieth century, was also known as an eccentric geniussolitary, headstrong, a hypochondriac virtuoso. Abandoning stage performances in 1964, Gould concentrated instead on mastering the various media: recordings, radio, television, and print. His sudden death at age fifty stunned the world, but his music and legacy continue to inspire. Philosopher and critic Mark Kingwell regards Gould as a philosopher of music whose ideas about music governed his life. But those ideas were contradictory, mischievous, and deliberately provocative. Instead of a single narrative line to explain the musician, Kingwell adopts a kaleidoscopic approach. Just as Gould played twenty-one takes to record the opening aria in the famed 1955 Goldberg Variations, Kingwell offers twenty-one takes on Goulds life. Each version offers a different interpretation of the man, but in each, Kingwell is sensitive to the complex harmonies and dissonances that sounded throughout the life of the great Gould.
This vibrant blend of memoir, travelogue, and reflection on the deep truths of angling is framed around an annual fishing trip that Mark Kingwell and his father and two brothers take each year to British Columbia. Between the drinking, the cigars, and the piloting of a small dingy, Kingwell, previously of the belief that fishing is stupid, finds that the sport does allow for one important thingquite a bit of time just to think, to allow thoughts to wander and new vistas to open up. This realization leads Kingwell, who makes his living as a professor of philosophy, to ponder everything from masculinity and procrastination to golf and the value of worknot to mention the relative benefits of wet versus dry flies, the cast, and how best to fool a fish. As the book engagingly shows, fishing is worth thinking about because of the thinking that fishing allows. Especially when the trout arent biting.