But the sense of adventure that surrounded the fish here was gone as soon as they were on my plate, white, quivering, salty and full of bones, the same as with the fish that dad and I caught in the sea off Tromøya, or in the sound by the mainland, with a jig, trolling line or pole, that sense left them as soon as they had been prepared for the table and lay on one of our brown lunch plates at home in Tybakken in the 1970s.

karl ove knausgaard, Karl Ove Knausgaard - A Dea…, loc. 2133