by Sam Juliano
My name is Paikea Apirana, and I come from a long line of chiefs stretching all the way back to the Whale Rider. I’m not a prophet, but I know that our people will keep going forward, all together, with all of our strength.” -Whale Rider (2002)
Two of the past year’s most distinguished and critically-acclaimed movies chronicle the incalculable bond between a young man and a horse. The stirring British-made independent drama Lean on Pete, features a motherless 15-year-old boy living in Portland, Oregon, who lands a part-time job caring for horses for a hardened and callous jockey trainer at the local racetrack. He develops a soulful connection with a five-year-old quarter horse named Pete, but after the stallion begins losing and faces extermination, young Charley takes off with Pete and in tandem they set out on a treacherous cross-country journey together. The film’s center is the extraordinary connection between Pete and the silent Charley—who, in his emotional outlook, and on screen voice-over conversations with the stallion evoke a profound spirituality. In the American made The Rider a troubled and physically maligned former rising star on the rodeo circuit stages a comeback while falling hard for a new horse, but must endure the same heartbreak as the young boy in Marjorie Kinnan Rawling’s children’s literary classic The Yearling. Yet, the breathtaking 2018 picture book jewel If I Had a Horse by Gianna Marino bears the most metaphysical and epic connection with an older classic film, 1979’s The Black Stallion, directed by Caroll Ballard, a film of horse-to-human camaraderie like no other especially an underwater montage showing the legs of the two as they splash in the turf, but perhaps most unforgettably an extended sequence, an uninterrupted shot depicting the boy’s snail-paced approach and the horse’s skittish movements forward and in retreat, which film fans young and old might recall looking at one of Marino’s first double page tapestries of the young girl holding out an apple for her imagined equestrian companion. He might be shy like me. In fact, Marino’s magnificent burnished red opening widescreen canvas parallels The Black Stallion’s celebrated shot of boy and horse on the extreme opposite edges of the image.
If I Had a Horse is remarkably spare and is even more amazingly suggestive. Bleeding watercolor silhouettes with purposefully indeterminate backgrounds help to coax the imagination with an alternate color scheme that sets apart the emotional steps that lead to physical and emotional maturation of one of human civilization’s oldest relationships. After the delicate feeding interlude to establish trust (But if I stayed quiet, he would learn to be my friend) which Marino negotiates in a yellow burst that seems to denote a moment of urgency the child is pictured hugging the horse in a toned down more comforting color blend. (If I had a horse I would hug him). Then in a vivid burst of green-yellow impressionism the child is on the horse’s back, emboldening the bond. Marino notes that this stage will invariably be followed by the “taming” state, which all animal owners know doesn’t arrive without some hitches. After the intrepid child is shown trying to navigate the horse’s bucking (At first I might have to tame him), a lucid-enough for self-readiness, the stallion is pictured rejecting the maiden rider alongside the prose And we might not agree on everything which clearly delineates the both ends must meet in this initially fragile equation. Marino’s circular movement in yellow and green swirls is markedly cinematic as is the turquoise toned horse bucking forward. The message is that compatibility can only be forged when both parties are ready and comfortable. The intimation suggests maturation on a number of fronts can lead aspiration to realization, timidity to bravery, reluctance to self-confidence. The author’s prose banner for the spread I would have to be strong. Like him isn’t literal of course but a parallel of the stallion’s physical strength and the child’s trainer-like discipline. Complicating matters is the fact that Marino never clarifies the gender (and for that matter race) of the youth, rightly rendering that concern insignificant in a narrative that should embrace all regardless of classification.
He would have to be gentle. Like me. Then the author reverses the dynamic suggesting that compatibility is also reliant on the bronco’s gentility, which is the only way to address such a physical mismatch. In a haunting silhouette of turquoise-green on yellow the imagined harmony has been gloriously consummated. In the If I had a horse, we would be brave together tapestry Marino evokes a uninhibited dash of child and mare that for the adult readers might recall one of the most unforgettable images in the 2002 New Zealandic Whale Rider, where the titular character played by the thirteen-year old Keisha Castle-Hughes glides across the seascape in breathtaking prowess. Picture book lovers with longer memories may fondly recollect one-time Caldecott Medal winner Stephen Gammell’s (The Song and Dance Man) sumptuous art for Rafe Martin’s Will’s Mammoth, which depicts a young boy’s bonding with the now-extinct creature with whom he rides to the most challenging locales. We would explore places we’ve never been. Again Marino offers up a sumptuous gouache watercolor double spread painting, embellishing her standard minimalism with color infiltration (pink brings the warmth of camaraderie) to a deep orange-yellow landscape, where other horses graze. In the following widescreen tableau the vision becomes more fantastical as this indomitable lad “runs wild” with other horses in a thematic thrust that 2018 book lovers may remember was the title and sole focus of David Covell’s Run Wild. With the adolescent’s hair flowing, and the stallion’s in dream-like flow the panel should provides kids with the most resonating tapestry of horse-riding bliss. But no other horse would be like my horse. But Marino elucidates that a personal bond will forever separate a shared experience with the intimacy and the yearning of one child with one horse that can never be usurped no matter how exhilarating it may be to discover common ground. A close-up of this mighty’s creature’s hooves, bathed in deep purple with orange frisson at the forefront of a scene where other horses less vividly and less detailed evoked in the background powerfully assert this. Marino’s final three spreads are impressionist master strokes, using blue and purple to suggest the triumph at hand when both sides understand each other and are able to dispel any lingering feelings that there could be some adventures beyond their grasp. If I had a horse, I would be fearless. Like him….And together…We could do anything.
The end papers note the beginning and final exultation and the inside cover and dust jacket replication depict horse and boy immersed in each other. If I Had a Horse should transport children to a situation and place they’d yearn to be. The tone-poem depicts the most intimate of bonds on an epic landscape and will stir children’s imaginations to cathartic levels. For the Caldecott committee there is a chance to honor Gianna Marino’s spectacular watercolor art in the service of a stirring work of the imagination.
Note: This is the twentieth entry in the 2018 Caldecott Medal Contender series. The annual venture does not purport to predict what the committee will choose, rather it attempts to gauge what the writer feels should be in the running. In most instances the books that are featured in the series have been touted as contenders in various online round-ups, but for the ones that are not, the inclusions are a humble plea to the committee for consideration. It is anticipated the series will include in the neighborhood of around 25 titles; the order which they are being presented in is arbitrary, as every book in this series is a contender. Some of my top favorites of the lot will be done near the end. The awards will be announced in late January, hence the reviews will continue until around the middle of that month.
Sam — Your review of IF I HAD A HORSE is exquisite. The cover alone is worth the price of admission! And the inside illustrations by author-artist Gianna Marino are equally breathtaking.
Brilliant piece of writing Sam. The art is gorgeous, the film references apt and telling. The Black Stallion and Whale Rider really hit home. I like the term ‘tone poem’ as you applied it with this book.
After seeing your list of best films of the year, this book seems like a revelation. But I’m sure you probably laid eyes on it before you saw the movies. Captivating art and I’m sure for kids an inspiring tale of bonding and friendship. A painstaking, beautiful review.
Marvellous selection, Sam!
The artwork is not only masterful but powerfully clear. And that an odyssey like that registers as necessary is a challenge to young and old.