On enliven-ing

A knife lies on a cloth, ready to raise and slice the belly of a carp. Alongside is a red mullet fish, fresh lemon, herbs, and a copper stockpot for us to commence a recipe. Mounded oysters shimmer, and the red creature, post-mortem, glares at us while an eel lies limp, undisturbed. All of our senses engage with the painting as it enlivens before us.

From 1864 to 1865, painter Edouard Manet created still lifes on canvas in oil, including “Still Life with Fish” above. He often used the emerging middle class as his subject and was quite the contrarian in doing so, as his works, such as this, were oft unsavory. Less known is a 1969 work of a pair of mullet fish lying on a cloth with the same “begin” verve, but there are several more fish paintings by Manet.

“Still Life with Fish” recalls Dutch 17th-century style and subject but makes a plainly 18th-century statement: that the middle class was as plentiful as carp dans la Seine. The bony fish tend to be bottom feeders, a “poor man’s fish,” and signify substantial cultural and economic evolution. The fish was Paris’ way of sustaining people outside the bourgeoisie and proletariat. They fed the rising Tiers-État — clergy and nobles aside.

According to the Art Institute of Chicago, Manet didn’t submit his still lifes to the “official” French Salon. Instead, he gave them to friends and sold them in the “burgeoning network of art galleries in Paris.” This fish's provenance might’ve been lowly after its completion, but it’s perhaps the world’s most famous still-life fish today.

From the water from which they come, they’re wriggling, writhing, and it becomes troublesome to process their effect on society or vice versa. Is spearing a fish, making a catch, selecting the best-looking fillet or tin, and descaling and deboning merely instinctual? Is the catch baptismal in nature and thus renewing for us? Or are fish simply abundant? In 2022, Lorde’s “Oceanic Feeling” summarized its sanctity.

“We could go fishing
You'll catch the big one

Sliding the knife under the skin
Grateful for this offering
And all the living things under the sun
Under the sun”

There are many stories of fish being a centerpiece or bringing good. Take the Seven Fish or The Beautiful Salmon as measures. We know them to be symbols of fertility, abundance, and good luck — things those in the middle class reach for to change their lives into something more savory.

With their gleaming scales and extraordinary energy in life, the draw to fish is undeniable. The motif fits in well with the doldrums of the middle class, the forlorn people who are constantly searching. It lifts them into a more elevated realm of liveliness.

Though we’re not fishing for carp 300 years later, we pick the Chicken of the Sea or the prettiest tin at Trader Joe’s to toss into a convenient budget TikTok recipe. Or, go so far as to subscribe to a monthly box of assorted tinned fish. We can pay less than $2 or more than $20; either way, experience briny seafood. There’s even a vegan tinned fish-like brand so everyone can experience the event. The phenomenon is nothing new; it calls back to the rise of charcuterie boards several years ago — also a highly aesthetically pleasing food choice to share sprawling conversations over.

It’s artisanal, an “ah-ha” experience when we peel back the top of a tin that was kept and aged like wine to open on a special occasion. If not the scales, the eyes, or the delicate bones, is it merely the tin package design that gets us? Its questionable delicatessen taste has lured us for about two decades longer than “Still Life with Fish” has been around, but its rise in popularity says something about us. Portugal, Norway, and Spain remain premier sellers of tinned fish and dedicate entire storefronts to it.

Becca Millstein, owner of Fishwife, argued it’s not just a trend; the US is merely behind the cultural curve. But as the tinned fish have cropped up and multiplied, so have fish-themed artworks, mosaics, homewares, garments, and jewelry. Its virality is touching every aspect of contemporary culture. Their innumerable scales and translucent fins have slipped into our every day once again.

As such, we’re getting curious about fresh fish as well. Almost a fourth of the New York Times’ 25-minute dinner recipes are fish meals (though it’s mostly salmon, no whole fish). Flatfish like snapper, branzino, bass, bluefish, and trout still have their place at the table, but they’re not what the people seem to be after. A recipe for a whole fish that serves two for almost $150 is a rarified pursuit.

In 2007, a report by the University of Norway, Norwegian University, Ghent, and Aarhus Business School said that fish is generally perceived as a relatively inconvenient type of food — which is crucial to know considering food habits, according to scientists who study humans and their sustenance — so it’s clear people go out of their way to experience fish. In 2019, schools studying fish’s economic, social, and ecological values discovered that forage fish (sardines, mussels, etc.) account for $18.7 billion annually. This doesn’t touch on their environmental and health benefits.

But, TikToker Ali Hooke called cooking “overrated” in her “Tin Fish Date Night” video. For the chef’s account dedicated to tinned fish on Friday nights, she discusses texture, firmness, looks, and brininess for her more than 120 thousand followers. The cans of prepared food and simple supplementary ingredients — crackers, bread, olive oil — give us more time to enjoy the food. Tinned fish opens a world to people who couldn't otherwise experience it, and in the pursuit, it’s been made artful — an upper echelon air. Sardines and tuna may be served on saltines or white bread, but it still is a special occasion for slow conversation, drinks and elegance.

We have an intense longing to be renewed every time we fill ourselves, ask for a higher-paying job, or send an email and hope it bodes well for us, and the fish entirely represents that revitalization we so quietly and eagerly yearn for. They’re a glittering reminder that there’s always more to enliven us further.