Why did I love this book?
Because horses… Nir begins. She deftly weaves together her personal history and her love of horses. It may be an elusive love, but one of her former riding instructors puts it best: “Twelve, that’s my age with horses... that kind of free, fearless thing that I used to have at that age.” Nir, raised by a Holocaust survivor father who figures large in her life, grows up with all the accouterments of wealth on the Upper East Side and summers in the Hamptons. Despite the trappings, she feels she is from the wrong background and is an outsider in that ritzy world. Horses bring her home to herself.
Through her own exploration of life with horses, she catches up with an array of equine experts from Monty Roberts now in his 80s, to Black Cowboys whose history has been erased in our history, to a woman who secretly imported Marwari horses to her farm on Cape Cod. Nir prides herself on the ability to ride any horse and she is fearless. It is an extreme sport, she writes, because of the danger it places you in. And even after numerous broken bones, including vertebrae (which she devotes nary a sentence to), she does not waver in her enthusiasm to ride. I am an extreme person, she says. Let me repeat: she is fearless.