Review of Chosen By A Horse, by Susan Richards

B404-SZ7

Review Of Susan Richards’ Chosen By A Horse, NY, Soho Press, 2006

To have horses in our lives is to open ourselves to realms of awareness increasingly endangered by the current of our times. We live in an increasingly urban social mindset: one of concrete, ever more restricted spaces, rapacious consumption, frenzy and disrespect. Horses can not exist in such a realm; humans who choose to coexist with horses have to be mindful of a peaceableness that is, today, simply not fashionable.
Susan Richards' memoir confronts what happens when an unfashionable human - single, female, childless, Caucasian, over forty and soul-weary - chooses to not only coexist with horses, but to rescue an abused and crippled ex-racehorse. It is a grueling journey, both for the author and the reader. Richards is not weaving any happy-princess-at-last myths: the narrative has authenticity and thus heartbreak.
Horses are fragile. True, they are powerful, beautiful and, some say, mystical. Anyone who has been around horses knows the gut-wrenching sensation of the discovery of even minor injuries. By the same token, it takes quite a bit of practice to harden oneself to the sight of a pony tied to a tractor tire in an unfenced yard: while some urban moron might view this scene of torture as ornamental, it's a gruesome daily sight for me. Richards confronts the ignorance of the abused mare's previous owner in a chilling scene when " The case went to court and the owner won"(53). The rescued mare's previous owner s later arrive "[…]wearing knit shirts, jeans, and shiny black loafers-city shoes"(60) and who then "[…]lit a cigarette and took one deep drag, then flicked the mostly unsmoked cigarette into the long grass"(61-62). Although this scene is fairly early in the memoir, it shows how deep the rift is between those who love horses and those who don't -- those who don't are characterized by Richards as arrogantly disrespectful overall.
The prose style of the memoir is straightforward and often elegant. Richards tells us of crunching snow and starlight; she also tells us of the emotional landscape she experiences with an aplomb that is winsome: "Maybe because having a horse meant your life had been touched by a beautiful mystery"(219).
Richards' memoir is a brief reading experience, but a necessary one for any one for whom the emotional or spiritual realm of life has value.

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