Horse

“…a racehorse is a mirror, and a man sees his own reflection there. He wants to think he’s from the best breeding. He wants to think himself brave. Can he win against all comers? And if not, does he have self-mastery to take a loss, stay cool in defeat, and try again undaunted? Those are the qualities of a great racehorse and a great gentleman.”

Public recognition and admiration when a horse is victorious or performs valiantly reaffirms a Thoroughbred owner’s elite social standing. The idea that the horse’s character is somehow indicative of the owner’s own greatness is a kind of internalized validation. For members of the wealthy breeder/owner class of Kentucky involved in the racing scene, the ability to participate in this society of competitors is a fundamental aspect of their identity.

“[At] the Support Center, she looked up at the looming bulk of the pods and thought of everything in there – the holotypes that provide the basis for a species identity, the specimens that are the scientific ground truth for the record of biodiversity. How many of them, she wondered, no longer existed? The pods suddenly seemed less impressive than tragic: evidence lockers for the case against humanity. But the pods also held the things people had created – the finest examples of the artistry and the ingenuity of our own species. How could we be so destructive and creative at the same time?”

Certain aspects of Horse touch on the effects of climate change. Jess’s reflection on the purpose of her laboratory brings to her mind the conflicting value systems she perceives to be simultaneously at work. At once, human beings seem to her to be fascinated with relics and artifacts of the past, but unwilling to take measures to ensure that modern-day creatures and elements do not meet the same fate.

“Viley’s Harry, Charles and Lew. Theo felt whipsawed. Troye may have portrayed these men as individuals, but perhaps only in the same clinical way that he exactly documented the splendid musculature of the thoroughbred. It was impossible not to suspect some equivalence between the men and the horse: valued, no doubt, but living by the will of their enslaver, submitting to the whip. […] Loyalty, muscle, willingness – qualities for a horse, qualities for the enslaved. And while the horse had two names, the men had only one.”

Theo recognizes the singularity of how many Black horsemen are portrayed in 19th-century equine art. He begins to uncover the complexities of the relationships between enslavers and the enslaved and free Black grooms, trainers, and jockeys who worked at their behest. His research illuminates the historical significance of the talents and accomplishments of Black horsemen who were integral to Southern Thoroughbred racing, and the cultural and social constraints that robbed them of recognition.

“That night he dreamed of a giant tree, its massive trunk big as a mountain, its branches as wide as rivers, its twigs fingering upward, filling the sky. At the end of every twig, the most magnificent fruit: thoroughbred horses with gleaming coats and flowing manes, their mighty hooves pawing the air. In his dream, Jarret saw his own hand, grown gigantic. He reached up into the boughs and gently plucked the brightest bay: Darley, by Boston, by Timoleon. As he set the horse on the ground, all the stallions in its long lineage neighed and called to him, shaking the great tree with their chorus.”

The tree in Jarret’s dream is a representation of the vast Thoroughbred lineages he has committed to memory. Jarret understands the intentional processes driving the deliberate unions of specific sires and dams, each pair selected with the hope that the resulting foal will prove to possess the collective talents and attributes of their sire and dam’s forebears. His dream indicates his recognition of the potential impact he and his father could have on the way Darley (later Lexington) will be seen by history, and the sense that their destinies are entwined.

 “Catherine stepped up to the exhibit label on the plinth and drew out her reading glasses. ‘Horse!’ she read. ‘I can’t believe it! I don’t suppose you people have the Mona Lisa stashed somewhere, labeled Smiling Girl?’ She ran a finger over the terse nameplate. ‘Not just Horse,’ she said. ‘The horse. What you have here is the greatest racing stallion in American turf history.’”

Catherine is astonished to discover that the Smithsonian has been storing Lexington’s skeleton under the moniker “Horse,” absent any acknowledgments of his considerable achievements and place in the pantheon of American racing history. A central theme of the novel surrounds the revelations which occur when forgotten historical artifacts are reexamined. When these items are uncovered or find renewed appreciation under a different gaze, they cease being dormant and take on a second life.

“People were hard to read, no matter how well you thought you knew them. He’d led out Mary Barr on her first pony. […] Now her behavior was as baffling as any stranger’s. And her father, well. There was a puzzle. Talked like a northern antislavery but looked and sounded just like a marse who’d beat you bloody if you if you glanced at him the wrong way. Jarret tossed on his shakedown. He was pleased to know that good things had been said of him up in the big house. But it concerned him too. Being noted wasn’t always safe. The tallest cornstalk could be the first one reaped.”

Jarret possesses an innate ability to communicate with horses, and to perceive what others cannot. His proximity to privileged white people has allowed him to observe the contradictions and complications present in the way people interact with each other. Jarret has found that even self-proclaimed abolitionists can be hostile and suspicious toward enslaved people, while those who are unabashed enslavers can occasionally demonstrate fairness.

“Later, she would remember that first kindness—the disciplined way he’d made the anger leave his face, the swift change of subject. It was so much more than she deserved for what had been no microaggression but blatant racism. Yet he’d let her off the hook. He raised a hand in a dismissive wave, threw a leg over his bike, and cycled away. She watched his retreating figure and felt ashamed.”

Jess’s first interaction with Theo, in which she assumed he was stealing her bike, is one that neither ever forgets, even as their romantic relationship blossoms. Theo has developed remarkable discipline, empowering him to react with civility even when anger is warranted. His ability to channel interactions like this one into his work is an intentionally cultivated attribute designed to maximize his peace of mind, one that Jess comes to admire fiercely.

“The boy would walk forward a few quick strides and the horse would mimic him. When he stopped, so did the horse. […] [T]here was a connection between them that transcended mere ropes and reins. The youth only had to move a shoulder or tilt his head and the horse moved in harmony with him, as if they were speaking to each other without language. I could tell he loved that colt.”

It is apparent to Scott that Darley (later Lexington) and Jarret have a truly remarkable bond. Their relationship is particularly exceptional because Darley is a stallion with two notoriously temperamental parents. The dividends of Jarret’s investment, in the time he took to ensure Darley had the ideal socialization and rapport, are a testament to Jarret’s instincts and insight.

“Dr. Warfield got you. Could be you he’s fixing to sell south, stead of the horse, don’t you know that? And I’d a had no say in that, neither. The only way that change is by his say-so. […] Son, they take what they want. What kind of boy I raised up who don’t know these things? It’s on my own head I let you come up so ignorant. […] You gone to go get you self a lesson in how this world really turns.”

Harry is disappointed in himself for believing that Dr. Warfield would keep his word and let him keep Darley (later Lexington). He believes his experience has taught him too much about the world of entitled white men for him to have been so trusting and naïve. Harry is disappointed in himself because he feels that he has done his son a disservice by insulating him from some of the crueler realities of life as an enslaved man in the South, and worries that Jarret’s confidence may be to his detriment.

“He conceived, in those hard days, a renewed gratitude toward his father, who had endured hardship to rise to a measure of dignity that had extended its protective cloak over Jarret’s childhood. He learned, in those fields, what he had been spared. He felt a new understanding of the folk who bore it, and an admiration for those brave enough to risk everything to run away from such a life. An empathy grew in him. He began to watch people with the sensitive attention he’d only ever accorded his horses. […] He hadn’t had thoughts like that before. Even as his world contracted and pressed in upon him, in equal measure his heart expanded.”

Jarret feels a sense of loneliness he has never experienced knowing that he is helpless to intervene on Lexington’s behalf despite his proximity to his horse. At Fatherland, he develops a deep connection with other enslaved people for the first time. Jarret is overwhelmed by all his father has done not only to protect him by bringing him to The Meadows, but to educate him and cultivate his natural abilities in horsemanship.

“He felt regret that Pryor hadn’t proved to be a different kind of man. He sensed he and the horse could have accomplished a great deal if things had gone differently. Still, he wasn’t sorry to have seen what he’d seen, and learned what he’d learned. Not just the book learning. He felt larger in spirit. There was a space in his soul for the suffering of people. He resolved to take account of their lives, the heavy burdens they carried.”

Jarret accepts that Pryor is but one example of how others might interfere with his relationship with Lexington, given Jarret’s social position. Jarret is confident in the value he provides as a groom and trainer for the horses he cares for, which gives him the ability to stand up to Pryor when Lexington needs him. While he regrets the time away from his horse, everything he’s seen at Fatherland allows him to proceed with a maturity and graciousness that he could not have developed alone. 

“Jarret tried to ignore the dissonant clanging of Ten Broeck’s words. My horse. My Jarret. New grandstands, new barns—did that man just buy up everything he wanted in this world? Jarret wondered how it could be possible to have so much, just from gambling on cards and horses. If a man could win all this, then maybe he could lose it. What if he decided to wager Lexington away, or the two of them? They were his property, just like the barn.”

0The uneasiness that Jarret feels upon first arriving at Metairie foreshadows the reckless, unethical, and deceitful practices which later prove Jarret’s suspicions about Ten Broeck correct. The ostentatious gleam of the newly renovated facilities suggests an intentional spectacle created to attract attention and inspire a feverish crowd to bet rashly and often. Jarret cannot discern which aspects of Ten Broeck’s character are genuine, and which are performative.

“Martha formed a mental image of some sentimental daub, the kind of painting—maybe even a reproduction of a painting, would Annie know the difference?—that might be in the possession of a rural Black family of slender means. She quickly arranged her face. She didn’t want to appear snobbish.”

Martha dismisses the value Annie’s family has assigned to the painting as purely sentimental. She infantilizes Annie, never once thinking that Annie might take an interest in the art Martha curates. Martha is happy to offer to pay Annie more, and to offer to contribute to her brother’s education, but her material generosity is not matched by an egalitarian attitude.

“In her first year at university, she’d felt put down by affluent, private school kids who carried a polish and experience of the world she lacked. Now Theo was making her feel exactly the same way. She hadn’t reckoned him for a snob, despite the Oxford-Yalie background. Was that some kind of racism—because he was Black, she assumed he therefore couldn’t be a pompous, upper-class twit?”

As they get to know each other, Theo and Jess begin to identify areas of contention between them. Their experiences with racism differ because of their individual ethnic backgrounds; their childhood and adolescent experiences are also separated by vastly disparate socioeconomic statuses. Jess is slightly wounded by Theo’s agreement that her opinion on art lacks value.

“Jarret preferred the gestural language of horses. Any horse could tell you how things stood with the very same flick of the ear or a swish of the tail as any other horse. People could twist you up, saying words that seemed friendly when they weren’t by any means your friend. But when a mare pinned her ears, you knew she wasn’t going to be congenial.”

Ten Broeck imagines that, in Alabama, Jarret will be honed into a legendary trainer like his father. However, the true education Jarret receives is on the nature of humanity, and the scope of what people are capable of doing to each other. Jarret is frustrated and disillusioned by what he discovers over the course of his time at Metairie. In contrast, horses, as described in this passage, are transparent and possess an integrity that is unmatched, much like Jarret himself.

“I’d always thought the bay a splendid specimen. But now he moved into his characteristic low running posture as if he were made of silken fabric, not flesh and bone. As they came off the track, the youth dismounted and did not even bother to lead the horse by the reins. The beast followed at his shoulder and moved left or right entirely by verbal command. I had never seen a highbred racehorse—a stallion, no less—biddable enough to do such things.”

Having been granted the autonomy to oversee Lexington’s conditioning and training in New York, Jarret has honed Lexington into the epitome of an ideal racehorse. What is more impressive and profound in the eyes of Scott is Lexington’s trust in and obedience to Jarret. Scott does not yet know that Lexington is going blind, or that Jarret’s emphasis on training Lexington with verbal commands is as much a conscientious, preventative measure as it is a reflection of their relationship.

“‘I’m afraid if Ten Broeck knows, he’ll be against him. And if he does that—’ he stopped. He’d said too much. Patrick pushed back the jockey cap atop his sparse, sandy hair.

‘If he does that, you are worried he might take other steps to ensure a loss?’ […]

Gil Patrick […] gazed at the track, weighing his options. Then he nodded. ‘Very well. I’ll keep your secret. Just for this one race. After that, no promises.’”

Jarret has tried to anticipate Ten Broeck’s schemes, concluding that he must engage in deception to outmaneuver Ten Broeck and keep Lexington safe. Jarret takes a risk trusting Patrick with knowledge of Lexington’s blindness, and his concerns about what Ten Broeck would do should he find out. As a renowned jockey, Patrick has worked closely with men of color in the racing world, and his interactions have engendered a respect for these talented horsemen. In choosing to keep Jarret and Lexington’s secret, Patrick sides with decency and practicality over societal expectations.

“Jarret wanted this chance. The blindness was progressing rapidly. Despite his hopes, the sight in the good eye had begun to fade. […] But if Lexington beat Lecompte, he would prove himself beyond doubt the champion stallion of the age, assured of a good life as a coddled stud sire. He didn’t need to see to do that.”

Timing is essential for Lexington. Although his condition is steadily worsening, Jarret knows he has adapted successfully enough to win one last race. Lexington has already beaten the clock—literally, in the Race Against Time—but a new race against time has begun against Lexington’s inevitable blindness.

“Before I let you go, it is important that you grasp the extent of your folly. I am going to set it out for you. […] As you may know, there is no longer a condition such as yours in England, so at the moment you set your foot down on that soil you would have been free to stay in my employ or not, as you liked. And to keep whatever moneys I must now assume are in your possession, since you have proposed to buy your own manumission. For the service you have rendered to me, I will not confiscate those funds, although as you know, since slaves may not legally hold property, it is within my right to do so.”

These words encompass the full spectrum of Ten Broeck’s arrogance and callousness. He wants to harm Jarret emotionally by suggesting that Jarret is at fault for his continued status as an enslaved person. He revels in the power he exercises in reminding Jarret that he can take his earnings from him. Ten Broeck waits until the last minute to reveal that Lexington and Jarret are destined for the same place, allowing Jarret to stew in his panic.

“Not just a horse, Annie. Lexington was the greatest thoroughbred stud sire in racing history. No horse has ever surpassed him. For sixteen years, his foals, when they came to race, won more prize money than any other horses that raced those years. […] Even today, people pay thousands of dollars for horses in Lexington’s bloodline. My father paid a fortune for Royal Eclipse.”

Lexington’s reputation as both a great champion and a sought-after stud has been impressed upon the reader throughout the narrative, but Martha Jackson’s reaction to the reveal of Annie’s painting emphasizes Lexington’s resounding legacy. Between the mid-19th century and the events depicted in 2019 are scores of descendants carrying Lexington’s heritage. Martha and her mother embody that in their relationships to their own horses, Royal Eclipse and Fashion Eclipse.

“At first, he was kindly disposed to these men, young as they were, skinny, sometimes shoeless rural boys, mostly from farms too poor to afford slaves. It had seemed to him an evil fate, a geographical accident, that had forced them to take up arms in what was, to him, a war to secure the rich man’s wealth. […] But after a time, he stopped seeking such dialogue. They were, all of them, lost to a narrative untethered to anything he recognized as true. Their mad conception of Mr. Lincoln as some kind of cloven-hoofed devil’s scion, their complete disregard—denial—of the humanity of the enslaved, their fabulous notions of what evils the Federal government intended for them should their cause fail—all of it was ingrained so deep, beyond the reach of reasonable dialogue or evidence. Scott had become convinced that a total obliteration of their rebellion was the only way forward.”

Scott saw first-hand the injustice of the inhumane and exploitative practice of slavery. His realization that rebel soldiers were not mere pawns swept up in their superiors’ interests constitutes a kind of disillusionment with the South he had not felt until that moment. This reflection on Scott’s part addresses the pervasive attitudes characterizing the world Jarret grew up in and which he was determined to flee following reconstruction.

“Evidence exists that Lewis’s interest in the racehorse Lexington may have been plundered from him against his will. Willa Viley’s own copy of the rules governing the Kentucky Association racetrack bears a suggestive annotation—someone—Viley?—has inked a cross next to the following rule: ‘No negro or mulatto, to make nomination in any stake, to be run over this course.’ Since Viley succeeded in acquiring a valuable interest in Lexington, it is plausible that he used this rule as leverage in order to compel a sale of the horse.”

There is a retributive element in the notion that Harry and Jarret’s loss of rightful ownership will not remain entirely buried amidst accounts favoring the privileged white elite who took advantage of their position of power. Part of the tragedy of Theo’s senseless death is in the loss of what he might have contributed to the world of art history. If he has uncovered this clue so early in his thesis, the question is raised as to what else might he have been able to illuminate had he not been the victim of prejudice.

“Jarret recalled the waning heat of the July evening, the lushness of the grass, the horse’s head heavy in his lap in the shade of the big beech tree. Watching the sightless eyes close. The strange sense of something passing through him as the stallion exhaled his last breath. Such a still, peaceful ending after so much speed, so much danger.”

Jarret is devastated by the loss of Lexington, but he finds comfort in the life his horse led and the gentle, elegant ease with which he passed from the world. Standing before the only painting of them together, Jarret is transported back to the moment of his companion’s death. Acquiring this painting is Jarret’s way of harnessing a tangible reminder of their exceptional relationship.