@ignatius : Congratulations on the birth of your grandchild. Let’s focus on the positives in your life.
I finished the book about six weeks ago. Everyone’s comments are bringing it back to me, so I’m going to wait until I remeber more before commenting.
I’m going with a solid four stars. I recently read Lessons in Chemistry, which I found very disappointing. Horse was a much better read (for me, anyway).
I had conflicting feelings about Theo’s story. At first, I didn’t like the “ripped-from-the-headlines” aspect of his fate – but then I felt guilty about that. If it’s an all-too-common occurrence (and it is), why shouldn’t Brooks incorporate it? And then I had a flash of irritation at one point about the way Theo saw racism in almost every interaction. And then I felt guilty about that. Because, maybe there IS racism in almost every interaction for a Black man. I was tempted to ask my daughter’s boyfriend about his experiences. He is very much like Theo (in age, class, occupation, race). I know he would be happy to answer, but my daughter would probably not be happy I asked. I’ll wait for just the right moment at Christmas dinner. 
My white guilt and comfortable upbringing prevented me from really owning a solid opinion about certain parts of the book that I didn’t like. As if I have no right to express or embrace ideas about experiences that are so outside my purview. Does that make sense?
Congratulations on the new grandchild, @ignatius!
While I loved the book, I appreciate the critiques offered by some of you. I like having read something that provokes this kind of conversation. I found myself thinking of my college’s discussion of Caste by Isabel Wilkerson while reading Horse. It’s good for me to be pushed to thinking of things from a different perspective, in this case through the words of both Theo and Daniel.
Here’s a nice summary with photos from a blogger at the National Sporting Library and Museum (which I never head of, but sounds pretty cool: National Sporting Library & Museum)
This part made me laugh because I had a similar thought about the ease with which Jess accessed everything, without oversight:
The book was quite enjoyable and I’m eager to hear others’ opinions at Thursday’s meeting. Though there was one moment that really ruffled my feathers. Jess, the Smithsonian employee and one of the narrators, just walks into another museum’s storage without a Collections Manager in sight. That must be why it is fiction.
I totally understand the problem of trying a White woman trying to put herself in the shoes of a Black man. I get that it’s dangerous territory, but if you can only write exactly what you know we are going to have a very limited repertoire of stories we can tell. I did think that Brooks tried to mitigate that by making Theo American, (that question 8 is wrong about that!), but not quite American. I rather liked that his Black friends felt he hadn’t taken their warnings enough to heart. And I thought that making Jess Australian was probably also a good move.
I thought that she understood that even when you are relatively well-treated it still sucks to be a slave. I think she got more right than wrong in how she depicted the white men in the south, including Warfield’s very belated apology and Jarrett’s rejection of it.
But my enjoyment of the book was definitely tempered by second-guessing every decision Brooks had to make, and she definitely fell into didacticism a few too many times.
I completely agree. Maybe such an author will succeed, maybe not – but it’s like telling an artist they are forbidden from trying to create a certain type of art. It’s not unlike a man trying to write a novel in the first-person voice of a woman. Sometimes, it’s laughable; other times, it’s exceptionally good. No harm in trying on those sometimes uncomfortable shoes and attempting to feel what someone else feels.
My “rating” is 4 stars for many of the reasons others have noted. I know Theo’s death is straight from current headlines, but I was still annoyed at that whole storyline. (Yeah, I’m usually a sucker for a happy ending.)
Side note: @Mary13 – My RL Book Club read “Lessons in Chemistry” as our March read. For the most part I liked the book, but I kept having to walk away from it because the way the main character was treated as a professional woman hit way too close to home for me.
Yep, I was very annoyed by his death and wanted to throw the book when I got to that point. She ends up having the slave living two hundred years ago have a happier, longer life, then the contemporary black man.
I enjoyed this thoughtful article. Thanks for sharing 
I know, right? The irony. Brooks seems too smart an author not to have done that on purpose, but I’m not sure what message she was trying to relay.
Jarret’s situation was obviously atypical. Here’s some interesting info about slavery in Kentucky: https://transportation.ky.gov/Archaeology/Documents/Uncovering%20the%20Lives%20of%20Kentucky’s%20Enslaved%20People.pdf
I finished this book shortly after coming home from an 8-day hospitalization for long-covid-related asthma (see latest Covid threads here on College Confidential). Also I moved to my current apartment on 3/31/20, just as the U.S. was shutting down. The end of the book shocked me, but brought back memories of that crazy time and shortly thereafter, with so many instances of terrible injustice at the hands of police against Black men and women. I probably should reread the last couple of chapters, now that I am feeling so much better and, with the rest of us, lived through yet another crazy week watching the amazingly good and horribly bad acts our fellow Americans are capable of. Thanks, everyone, for your insight. Looking forward to reading the Atlantic article in particular.
@oldmom4896, I’m glad you’re better! The way the book ended with the very beginning of Covid felt eerie. We move from Jess grappling with past loss on a personal scale to the hint of future loss on a global scale.
I wasn’t happy with that ending of Year of Wonders either – it felt like she ended up in another book, not just another country. But I was okay with Jess returning to Australia. That was her plan from the start – she even daydreams about Theo moving there with her.
She’d never considered having an American dog, because she still saw her Washington life as provisional. Eventually, she’d go home, and she didn’t want to subject a dog, maybe old by then, to a long journey and the required quarantine (p. 165).
After Theo’s death, she really needs to distance herself from violent American shores, and to return to the comforts of home. (“Required quarantine” will take on a whole new meaning soon after Jess reaches Australia.)
I’m in the “loved this book/ enjoyed reading it “ camp. There are so many reasons, I have to break it down in pieces.
But, the comments from Mary13, Jarrett’s unbelievable speech at the end, and Caraid and others valid comments about Brooks unsettling tone, and Theo’s unrealistic voice, his shocking ending, which literally, made me gasp 
So I thought let me search ( no surprises to you all ) what Brooks has to say about a white woman writer embodying black characters, Theo and Jarrett.
At the 36 minute mark, Brooks is asked just that! She admits she almost abandoned the book because of that!, but she says she wanted to give voice, to this subculture of black horse trainers, and jockeys, who basically no longer exist in the racing world. Even if she gets “out through the thrashing machine” she said she had to try,
Also, Jess is based on her, and she reads a short segment, very humorous part of the book, she talks about coming to love of horses at 53 years old ( I came to love my pony at 5 years old ) and she is truly delightful person,
I can’t listen to the interview right now, but I will! Thanks Mary for pointing out to me that Jess returning to Australia is hinted at all along. That’s what I get for rushing to finish it in time! I never doubted that Brooks knew the pitfalls of the project she had taken on and for the most part I am willing to forgive her for her missteps. She’s had a really interesting life. I think I would like to read her memoir. Foreign Correspondence by Geraldine Brooks
Finished this 3 months ago. I didn’t struggle to keep reading but wasn’t wowed. I did feel she did a good job of showing how a black person of high standing/value (whether by being exceptional horseman or academic) was still vulnerable to the worst of racism, and I think that is an important truth. (My AA friends had very different concerns when their sons got drivers licenses than I did, for example.)
But that lesson really felt forced into the whole book. As a reader, I felt kinda bashed over the head with that and the reminder that racism lives on.
I fall into the “mixed review” camp, for many of the same reasons others have mentioned. The Atlantic article helped me clarify my views, so thanks for that!
I understand why Brooks wanted to interweave the modern story with Jarret’s–and I like books with multiple perspectives-- but it never quite worked for me. Not just the depressing and tacked-on ending for Theo, but the sudden ending of the book with Jess. I was listening to the end on audio and thought I’d missed a chapter! I would have preferred an ending with Lexington and Jarret (rather than Jarret describing his death to Col. Bruce).
Until @Mary13 mentioned it (thanks!), I hadn’t noticed that the painting connected Quantrill’s raiders and the racism of Theo’s neighbor. Her presence was puzzling to me.
I watched the entire interview, including the Q&A, and loved it. Brooks really is delightful, and passionate about her subject matter. She absorbs the history, and then allows her imagination to take wing. She says, “When the line of fact frays, I can weave a few strands of imagination together…I can haul you along with me and build this edifice that will stand up in your imagination.”
She’s meticulous about historical accuracy. She says at one point that she will have to make a correction in the second edition because there’s a line where Jarret throws “a flake of hay,” and it struck her upon re-reading the published work that a flake of hay couldn’t exist because they didn’t have a mechanical binder. (I couldn’t find this in my kindle search – maybe she already took care of it!)
Interestingly, Brooks says that she researches as she goes, for fear that she will fall into the trap where "You discover a lot of fascinating things and you’re gonna cram them in there whether the story needs it or not.” Yet, as has been mentioned above, she actually did fall into that trap a few times in Horse.
In the Afterword, Brooks mentions the sudden loss of her husband, Tony. She says in the interview that he was her best and harshest critic, and always right. She said he had only edited the first half of Horse before he passed. I wonder if he might have guided her to avoid a few pitfalls in that second half, in both Theo’s and Jarret’s stories. I like @buenavista’s preferred ending. That would have brought us full circle in a very touching way.
Things I liked:
The Bug Room, and other behind the scenes descriptions of the Smithsonian, which I’ve only experienced as a tourist.
The descriptions of Jarret’s loving care of Lexington, and learning about the role of black trainers, grooms, etc., and racing in the 19th century
The way Brooks showed that even though Jarret was most of the time not a “hand” (and somehow I had never fully made the connection between that term and the total lack of agency the enslaved had over their bodies and work), his situation was always tenuous, subject to the whims, anger, greed, etc. of those in power. Even his name, as she made clear by her chapter headings.
@buenavista, Brooks says in the interview that she got to visit the Bug Room in person as part of her research. 
I just read The Atlantic article. While I agree with many of the author’s points (the plot veers toward formula; the writing can be didactic), I think the overall tone is too harsh. Kisner accuses Brooks of unwittingly promoting a racist trope in Jarret’s reflection on his time in the fields. I didn’t see it that way.
Early in the book, Jarret admits to understanding horses, but not humans. Later, his own terrible pain opens “a space in his soul for the suffering of people.” That seems like a universal human response to me. Scott changes, too, entering the war with a mocking, cavalier attitude and ending it gaunt and haggard, after years of suffering that teach him to give “some measure of tenderness” to others. Don’t misunderstand: I’m not comparing being a slave to being a Civil War medic. I get that there’s a world of difference there. Rather, I’m highlighting the ability of humans to channel their own suffering into empathy.
I do have one straight-up criticism of The Atlantic article. In listing all that is wrong with Horse (the romance is bland, the cliff-hangers are “ungainly,” etc.), the author includes, “The details occasionally inspire a flinch (describing an enslaved young man as a ‘dusky youth’).”
That description is uttered by Scott in 1850 (p. 32), in one of his first-person chapters. A quick internet search tells me that the (pejorative) color adjective “dusky” was in use as early as 1847. The article suggests that Brooks (as narrator) was using the flinch-worthy expression to describe a character, which is misleading and unfair.