Good Nonfiction Storytelling: Lessons Learned from a Book about Cod

A book about the history of cod wasn’t on my summer reading list. But one evening, as I was lazily perusing the library app on my phone, I came across Mark Kurlansky’s Cod: A Biography of the Fish That Changed the World. I’d been looking for something benign, maybe even mundane, to read myself to sleep at night. This seemed to fit the bill. So with zero interest in the titular fish, I went ahead and clicked “Borrow.” And unexpectedly, I thoroughly enjoyed it! Cod is fast-paced and entertaining. I later learned that I’m not alone in my positive review of the book; it was an international bestseller and garnered many prestigious awards, including the 1999 James A. Beard Award.

The book surveys the history of cod over the last one thousand years. Cod, it turns out, has had an enormous on cuisines, economies, and cultures all over the world. It’s led to innovative dishes and heated conflict in countries as disparate as Spain, Newfoundland, Iceland, and the West Indies. I also learned that a female cod that’s forty inches long can produce three million eggs in a spawning, and that the enigmatic Basque people were the first to introduce North American cod to Europe.

But what most impressed me about the book was the author’s ability to take a subject that’s so banal on its face and turn it into a memorable reading experience. And while I don’t pretend to understand the magic that underpins this process, a couple of thoughts come to mind.

Pleasing Prose

First, the prose. As I read the book, I delighted in Kurlansky’s rich and vivid descriptions. In Chapter 2, “With Mouth Wide Open,” he writes of the Atlantic cod:

In the water, its five fins unfurl, giving an elegant form that is streamlined by a curving white stripe up the sides. It is also recognizable by a square rather than forked tail and a curious little appendage on the chin, which biologists think is used for feeling the ocean floor.

Through his captivating writing style, Kurlansky manages to inject a sense of beauty and wonder into this:

A grimacing cod.

Kurlansky also demonstrates an occasional flair for the dramatic in his writing. In the aforementioned chapter, he highlights cod’s adaptiveness and strong instinct to survive. He closes with the following statement:

If ever there was a fish made to endure, it is the Atlantic cod—the common fish. But it has among its predators man, an openmouthed species greedier than cod.

Here, Kurlansky creates a cliffhanger, baiting the reader (ha!) to turn the page. Most nonfiction aims to convey information, ensuring that it’s both accurate and comprehensive. But Kurlansky takes the task to a higher level, successfully hooking the reader. (That was the last time.)

Engaging Narrative Structure

The second element that makes the book so effective is its narrative structure. Narrative structure is the way a writer tells their story—how they frame and organize information and present it to the reader. Kurlansky does this with great skill and creativity as he shepherds the reader through the history of cod in 14 concise chapters. The storytelling is linear in that Kurlansky moves sequentially through time, beginning in the Middle Ages and ending in the present. But he incorporates some interesting diversions. Each chapter ends with a cod recipe that stems from the same time and place that the given chapter discusses. Chapter 1 focuses on the medieval era. At the end of the chapter, readers are introduced to “Cokkes of Kellyng,” a recipe written in Middle English where a codling is cut into cockle-size pieces. Chapter 9 is about the role of cod in the history of Iceland up until its independence from Denmark in 1944. The chapter ends with a Danish recipe, “Fresh Cod with Mustard Sauce,” from a 1996 cookbook.

The recipes are evidence of the depth and breadth of the research that went into the book. But they also make for interesting diversions, all without disrupting the flow of the text.

The compelling prose and clever narrative structure allow readers to follow Kurlansky’s train of thought, steadily moving from point A to point B. These techniques are often associated with fiction, but are equally effective, albeit underused, in nonfiction. In the end, a book about cod didn’t provide the monotony I was seeking.  But it did teach me a thing or two about writing and prove that a skilled storyteller can turn virtually any subject matter into a page-turner.