If you’re expecting a thrilling recap of my three weeks of blogging absence, I’m sorry to disappoint. Instead, I give you some pontificating on Sonora Carver’s memoir A Girl and Five Brave Horses which I finished reading for the first time this very afternoon.
Like many little girls, I was absolutely obsessed with horses. To an extent, I guess I still am. But as a child my life basically revolved around anything related to horses. In this, Carver and I are much alike. If you’re unfamiliar with the name, Carver was an entertainer who was made famous by being one of the first female horse divers. Moreover, she was blind for more than half of the two decades she performed. Her memoir inspired the Disney film Wild Hearts Can’t Be Broken. I was quite enamored with the film when I saw it as a child, but now realize that it is sadly a huge departure from the real story to the point that it’s nearly unrecognizable from the material from which it is based. I find this particularly disappointing because the true story is in fact a remarkable one that is far more interesting, entertaining and inspiring than the film’s product.
Carver’s memoir is peppered with anecdotes of her life, citing interesting tidbits about all of the horses in the show and the intricacies of the training and physicality involved in horse diving. In fact, the entire book is written more like a lengthy conversation being told, wavering from point to point and focusing on what is of most interest to the author at that particular moment. While a bit jarring in terms of narrative flow I still found the story is easy to follow and as a horse enthusiast I found it desperately interesting. She recounts the specifics of how the horses were cared for, their particular personalities and, possibly most interesting of all, their individual diving routines and preferences. The majority of the book focuses on the first eight years or so Carver spent diving before being blinded. She chronicles in great detail the process by which she joined and trained with the touring exhibition, her first dive, and many of her experiences with all those involved in the circus type entertainment world to which she was involved. She makes it clear that she dearly enjoyed her chosen profession and it’s hard to not feel likewise reading her words.
One of the most intriguing aspects of the book for me was Carver’s reminiscing on her struggles to retain normalcy after going blind. Absent is the wallowing in self pity that many would expect, but rather Carver is almost immediately aware of her need to do things on her own. Nearly an entire chapter is devoted to explaining how she went about regaining — or more accurately maintaining — her own independence and she is emphatic when explaining her reasons, noting that they might seem rather unorthodox. As a blind person, though, I share her conviction and completely agree with her reasoning.
However, true to her own life her blindness is relegated to a position of near non-importance. And while she details much of the adjustment she experienced after losing her sight, she does not allow it to be the focus of this book anymore than she allowed it to overshadow her accomplishments as a performer. Perhaps it is because of this that no one was truly surprised when she made the decision to continue diving regardless of her lost vision. While the movie is focused on her battling to have the chance, Carver’s only fight was a small internal debate that could probably be considered nothing more than nervous stage fright. And while many would say this in itself was a courageous decision, Carver herself is reluctant to label the idea of diving blind as especially inspiring. She does make casual mention of her realization and acceptance as a role model towards the end of the book; I personally found her story infused with a dynamic strength of character. Truly, it wasn’t just the horses that were brave.
