Scan barcode
A review by richardrbecker
Horse by Geraldine Brooks
medium-paced
- Plot- or character-driven? Plot
- Strong character development? Yes
- Loveable characters? It's complicated
- Diverse cast of characters? No
- Flaws of characters a main focus? No
3.75
There is plenty to like about Horse, and plenty to dislike. While the story's emphasis resides on Jarret and his transformation from a young slave boy to a free man, Brooks weaves in two different timelines with weaker ties to her subject, a racing horse named Lexington, born in the 1850s.
Brooks leads with the contemporary timeline, involving a Nigerian named Theo who meets Australian named Jess. The pair are brought together after Theo rescues a painting of Lexington from the trash and takes it to the Smithsonian, where Jess happens to be restoring the skeleton of the same horse. The book's theme, racism, overshadows their chance encounter.
Even thinner is another ancillary timeline set in the 1950s, focused on Martha Jackson, a gallery owner who has an unrelated relationship with both a painting of Lexington and Jackson Pollock. The brevity of this intermission is an enjoyable read but never really takes off nor lends much to the story.
Thankfully, the bulk of the book revolves around Jarret and his relationship with a horse he helped raise. The horse, eventually named Lexington, sets record-setting victories across the South. And while Jarret and his father are "part-owners" of the animal, they are frequently confronted by the perils of freedom, ownership, and social standards that, fortunately, no longer exist in this country. But the net sum of this work provides a fascinating look at horseracing in the 1850s and into the 1860s before the outbreak of the civil war, as well as sympathies and tensions revolving around slavery. It is this timeline that makes the story a success.
Conversely, while the contemporary timeline is still a great read, it has an utterly disappointing ending, with Brooks punctuating her point about racism with a sledgehammer. Ultimately, it distracts from the better story, Jarret's story. Sure, this is by design. And it being by design is what makes it distracting. Stronger tales don't need to draw too much attention to themselves to make their point, which seems to be, that we have not only not evolved but regressed — a point that we, unfortunately, read about every day, anyway.
Brooks leads with the contemporary timeline, involving a Nigerian named Theo who meets Australian named Jess. The pair are brought together after Theo rescues a painting of Lexington from the trash and takes it to the Smithsonian, where Jess happens to be restoring the skeleton of the same horse. The book's theme, racism, overshadows their chance encounter.
Even thinner is another ancillary timeline set in the 1950s, focused on Martha Jackson, a gallery owner who has an unrelated relationship with both a painting of Lexington and Jackson Pollock. The brevity of this intermission is an enjoyable read but never really takes off nor lends much to the story.
Thankfully, the bulk of the book revolves around Jarret and his relationship with a horse he helped raise. The horse, eventually named Lexington, sets record-setting victories across the South. And while Jarret and his father are "part-owners" of the animal, they are frequently confronted by the perils of freedom, ownership, and social standards that, fortunately, no longer exist in this country. But the net sum of this work provides a fascinating look at horseracing in the 1850s and into the 1860s before the outbreak of the civil war, as well as sympathies and tensions revolving around slavery. It is this timeline that makes the story a success.
Conversely, while the contemporary timeline is still a great read, it has an utterly disappointing ending, with Brooks punctuating her point about racism with a sledgehammer. Ultimately, it distracts from the better story, Jarret's story. Sure, this is by design. And it being by design is what makes it distracting. Stronger tales don't need to draw too much attention to themselves to make their point, which seems to be, that we have not only not evolved but regressed — a point that we, unfortunately, read about every day, anyway.