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The West Country Trilogy #1
THE HORSEMAN
From the prize-winning author of In the Place of Fallen Leaves comes a beautiful, hypnotic pastoral novel reminiscent of Thomas Hardy, about an unexpected friendship between two children, set in Devon in 1911. In a forgotten valley, on the Devon-Somerset border, the seasons unfold, marked only by the rituals of the farming calendar. Twelve-year-old Leopold Sercombe skips school to help his father, a carter. Skinny and pale, with eyes as dark as sloes, Leo dreams of a job on the Master 's stud farm. As ploughs furrow the hard January fields, the Master 's daughter, young Miss Charlotte, shocks the estate 's tenants by wielding a gun at the annual shoot. Spring comes, Leo watches swallows build their nests, hedgerows thrum with life and days lengthen into summer. Leo is breaking a colt for his father when a boy dressed in a Homburg, breeches and riding boots appears. Peering under the stranger 's hat, he discovers Charlotte.And so a friendship begins, bound by a deep love of horses, but divided by rigid social boundaries boundaries that become increasingly difficult to navigate as they approach adolescence - Hallucinatory, beautiful and suffused with the magic of nature, this tale of an unlikely friendship and the loss of innocence builds with a hypnotic power. Evoking the realities of agricultural life with precise, poetic brushstrokes, Tim Pears has created a masterful, Hardyesque pastoral novel. The first in a dazzling new trilogy, The Horseman is his greatest achievement.
302 pages, Paperback
First published January 12, 2017
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 205 reviews
February 21, 2017
Even for someone like me who loves quietly told stories of people and their daily, sometimes mundane lives that I feel tell so much about the human spirit, the first half of this book was a bit too quiet. However, beneath the methodical tending of the land, and the animals, mostly the horses, there is the story of a family, their way of life working hard on the estate of Lord Prideaux. It's a hard life, but one that provides food and shelter and a place for one's vocation in this world of divided classes in rural England in 1911. It took a little time to get used to the conversational language, but detailed descriptions of the work in the fields, breaking the horses and the game hunting beautifully depict the place and atmosphere. Eleven year old Leopold is drawn to the horses that his father cares for and has natural instincts when it comes to caring for and training them. It is apparent that this will be Leo's story.
The second half of the novel was more satisfying, as Leopold's friendship with the Charlotte, daughter of Lord Prideaux's grows. A perceived scandal in the end brilliantly sets the stage for what the next two books of this planned trilogy might look like. This won't be for everyone with the slow story telling and as I mentioned, I found it difficult in the beginning. However, now that I've finished it, I'm looking forward to the next book to see where it brings young Leo.
I received an advanced copy of this book from Bloomsbury USA through NetGalley.
May 13, 2018
I loved this book, but then I really like quiet contemplative reads. The characters in this novel live close to the land and revere and value the animals that work and provide for them. There is very little exciting action here until the very end, where things escalate quickly. Fortunately, I have the second volume of this trilogy laying right here on my table, ready to begin.
Warning to any readers who need strong plot and plenty of action: This is not your book and you may be bored. Tim Pears writes beautifully about the seasonal nature of farm work on an English croft in 1911. It's like a time machine putting you in that time and place.
Another plus for me: I have a new favorite author. This guy can write.
Warning to any readers who need strong plot and plenty of action: This is not your book and you may be bored. Tim Pears writes beautifully about the seasonal nature of farm work on an English croft in 1911. It's like a time machine putting you in that time and place.
Another plus for me: I have a new favorite author. This guy can write.
March 29, 2017
Set in 1911-1912 on the lands of Lord Prideaux in Somerset, Tim Pears’s The Horseman follows the daily rounds of Leopold Sercombe, son of Albert, the estate’s respected carter. For most of the book, the author does not refer to Leo by name; he is simply “the boy”, an almost archetypical figure of pastoral life, keenly observant of the ways of nature and intuitive in his communication with non-human creatures. A reluctant twelve-year-old schoolboy, whose hands feel the teacher’s switch more often than any other student, Leo is neither disobedient, nor simple; his interests just lie elsewhere. Peers taunt him for his oddness, for preferring the company of animals, especially horses, over humans. On the days that he does attend school, he daydreams, his attention absorbed by the swallows’ nest-building activities on the other side of the window glass or the sound of an owl scrabbling in the chimney. Afternoons, he inevitably drifts back to his father’s farm, one of six on the estate.
When we first meet Leo, he stands on the sidelines, observing his father, uncle, brothers and cousin as they go about their work in the fields. Increasingly, though, he joins in on the labour. His father, an exacting man, known to whip Leo’s older cousin, Herbert, for ploughing a less-than straight furrow, is surprisingly patient and forbearing with Leo, never berating the boy for his truancy. He recognizes and cultivates his son’s abilities and encourages his uncanny way with horses. Spongelike Leo absorbs his father’s techniques with the animals. No need for questions; he learns by osmosis. Albert would like to see Leo gain a place on the estate’s stud farm or in the master’s stables. His training of the boy causes resentment in others, however. It intensifies the rancour between Albert and his brother, Enoch, the under-carter on the estate, and it angers his nephew, Herbert, who believes he is the rightful recipient of the training.
Pears’s book is arranged in unnumbered chapters named for the months of the year. There may be as many as five chapters in a row about the busiest month—all called “August” and as few as one chapter each for the months of late fall and winter, when there’s less to be done on the farm. Beginning in January, 1911 and continuing into June, 1912, each chapter presents a seasonal activity on the farm or wider estate. In January, 1911, Lord Prideaux’s partridge and pheasant shoot, in which Leo serves as a cartridge boy, is the focus. Subsequent chapters take the reader through manure spreading, turnip sowing, Mrs. Sercombe’s spring cleaning, the birth of a foal, the giddy spring turning out of the horses to pasture, and so on. Leo sees cart wheels being fashioned and horses being shod. He leads horses to and from the mowing, rakes the mown barley fields, and begins to break and train horses. One day while on an errand, he meets the head groom of the estate’s stables. Herb Shattock takes a shine to Leo and sometimes has him assist with the master’s horses.
Throughout the novel, Pears’s writing is unvarnished but fine. North Devon dialect is used, and biblical allusions are frequent. Considerable attention is paid to the workings of such new farm machines as mowers and binders. It is not uncommon for the author to linger over the intricate workings of cogs and rollers. Implements used by the smith, games keeper, and carter are precisely named.
The Horseman sets the reader down in the now-vanished world of rural England of more than a hundred years ago, where the rhythm and pace of working life were slower and dictated by the changing seasons, and where the harshness and physicality of existence were more directly experienced, too. Pears is especially strong at showing the complexity of the relationships between humans and domesticated animals. Unlike most of us, rural people then had daily contact with, even deep attachments to, the animals they would eventually eat. Leo has difficulty with this. It is “a mystery”, his mother says, that cared-for animals should come to such an end, but the Lord decreed it. Still, she adds, Leo is right to ponder this strange and puzzling thing. In a similar vein, Leo’s father confesses he had to make a case to the gaffer (boss) about not being responsible for selling those horses he had watched being born and had personally worked with.
In its attention to the cycle of the seasons and with its rustic characters (not to mention a distressing scene involving a pig that rivals the one in Jude the Obscure), The Horseman recalls the works of Hardy, but it lacks the intricate plotting of the great Victorian novelist. The narrative becomes most lively in the scenes where the master’s motherless, headstrong daughter, Charlotte, appears. Like Leo, “Lottie” was born in the last year of the last century. Spirited, emotional, and an expert horsewoman herself, she is one of the few humans to actually pique his interest. Though only a young girl with a small gun, she performs admirably in the shoot described at the beginning of the book. A little later, she dresses in boy’s clothes and watches Leo from atop a fence as he trains a colt. Lottie and Leo’s attraction to each other is natural, sympathetic, and uncomplicated by talk.
The first two-thirds of Pears’s book move at a very slow pace—with nothing much of consequence happening, but that all changes very suddenly as the novel draws to a close. In the final chapters, quiet, (and until this point) guileless Leo unwittingly provokes unanticipated, dramatic upheaval in the Sercombe family. No doubt the fall-out from this event—the change it brings to Leo’s and his family’s fortunes—is to be explored in the next installment of a planned trilogy.
Some years ago I was captivated by Pears’s debut, In the Place of Fallen Leaves. I later attempted his In a Land of Plenty, but it didn't engage me. A few months ago, though, my hopes were renewed when I learned that with The Horseman Pears would be returning to the pastoral setting of his first novel. As it turns out, this new book still couldn't quite take me back to the place of his first one. I was occasionally frustrated by the slow pace, the lengthy (and sometimes tedious) descriptions of farm work and equipment. However, once I recognized that the book was going to demand an adjustment in reading pace and more mental effort than I’m used to applying to fiction, I came to appreciate the book. It grew on me, and I find myself looking forward to discovering Leo’s fate in Pears’s next book.
I’d recommend The Horseman to patient readers with an interest in rural life and England’s agricultural past. Rating 3.5 (rounded down to 3).
Many thanks to the publisher, Bloomsbury USA, and NetGalley for providing me with a digital text for review.
When we first meet Leo, he stands on the sidelines, observing his father, uncle, brothers and cousin as they go about their work in the fields. Increasingly, though, he joins in on the labour. His father, an exacting man, known to whip Leo’s older cousin, Herbert, for ploughing a less-than straight furrow, is surprisingly patient and forbearing with Leo, never berating the boy for his truancy. He recognizes and cultivates his son’s abilities and encourages his uncanny way with horses. Spongelike Leo absorbs his father’s techniques with the animals. No need for questions; he learns by osmosis. Albert would like to see Leo gain a place on the estate’s stud farm or in the master’s stables. His training of the boy causes resentment in others, however. It intensifies the rancour between Albert and his brother, Enoch, the under-carter on the estate, and it angers his nephew, Herbert, who believes he is the rightful recipient of the training.
Pears’s book is arranged in unnumbered chapters named for the months of the year. There may be as many as five chapters in a row about the busiest month—all called “August” and as few as one chapter each for the months of late fall and winter, when there’s less to be done on the farm. Beginning in January, 1911 and continuing into June, 1912, each chapter presents a seasonal activity on the farm or wider estate. In January, 1911, Lord Prideaux’s partridge and pheasant shoot, in which Leo serves as a cartridge boy, is the focus. Subsequent chapters take the reader through manure spreading, turnip sowing, Mrs. Sercombe’s spring cleaning, the birth of a foal, the giddy spring turning out of the horses to pasture, and so on. Leo sees cart wheels being fashioned and horses being shod. He leads horses to and from the mowing, rakes the mown barley fields, and begins to break and train horses. One day while on an errand, he meets the head groom of the estate’s stables. Herb Shattock takes a shine to Leo and sometimes has him assist with the master’s horses.
Throughout the novel, Pears’s writing is unvarnished but fine. North Devon dialect is used, and biblical allusions are frequent. Considerable attention is paid to the workings of such new farm machines as mowers and binders. It is not uncommon for the author to linger over the intricate workings of cogs and rollers. Implements used by the smith, games keeper, and carter are precisely named.
The Horseman sets the reader down in the now-vanished world of rural England of more than a hundred years ago, where the rhythm and pace of working life were slower and dictated by the changing seasons, and where the harshness and physicality of existence were more directly experienced, too. Pears is especially strong at showing the complexity of the relationships between humans and domesticated animals. Unlike most of us, rural people then had daily contact with, even deep attachments to, the animals they would eventually eat. Leo has difficulty with this. It is “a mystery”, his mother says, that cared-for animals should come to such an end, but the Lord decreed it. Still, she adds, Leo is right to ponder this strange and puzzling thing. In a similar vein, Leo’s father confesses he had to make a case to the gaffer (boss) about not being responsible for selling those horses he had watched being born and had personally worked with.
In its attention to the cycle of the seasons and with its rustic characters (not to mention a distressing scene involving a pig that rivals the one in Jude the Obscure), The Horseman recalls the works of Hardy, but it lacks the intricate plotting of the great Victorian novelist. The narrative becomes most lively in the scenes where the master’s motherless, headstrong daughter, Charlotte, appears. Like Leo, “Lottie” was born in the last year of the last century. Spirited, emotional, and an expert horsewoman herself, she is one of the few humans to actually pique his interest. Though only a young girl with a small gun, she performs admirably in the shoot described at the beginning of the book. A little later, she dresses in boy’s clothes and watches Leo from atop a fence as he trains a colt. Lottie and Leo’s attraction to each other is natural, sympathetic, and uncomplicated by talk.
The first two-thirds of Pears’s book move at a very slow pace—with nothing much of consequence happening, but that all changes very suddenly as the novel draws to a close. In the final chapters, quiet, (and until this point) guileless Leo unwittingly provokes unanticipated, dramatic upheaval in the Sercombe family. No doubt the fall-out from this event—the change it brings to Leo’s and his family’s fortunes—is to be explored in the next installment of a planned trilogy.
Some years ago I was captivated by Pears’s debut, In the Place of Fallen Leaves. I later attempted his In a Land of Plenty, but it didn't engage me. A few months ago, though, my hopes were renewed when I learned that with The Horseman Pears would be returning to the pastoral setting of his first novel. As it turns out, this new book still couldn't quite take me back to the place of his first one. I was occasionally frustrated by the slow pace, the lengthy (and sometimes tedious) descriptions of farm work and equipment. However, once I recognized that the book was going to demand an adjustment in reading pace and more mental effort than I’m used to applying to fiction, I came to appreciate the book. It grew on me, and I find myself looking forward to discovering Leo’s fate in Pears’s next book.
I’d recommend The Horseman to patient readers with an interest in rural life and England’s agricultural past. Rating 3.5 (rounded down to 3).
Many thanks to the publisher, Bloomsbury USA, and NetGalley for providing me with a digital text for review.
April 20, 2017
It took me a while to get into this book. The writing is hard to explain. Once you get to know the characters and the setting of the book it is quite beautiful. It is 1911 in England, Leo is the son of Albert Sercombe, a farmer of Lord Prideaux's estate. The descriptions of everyday life and how everybody works together on the estate is gorgeous without being wordy. There are no spare words and that is what drew me in. It almost has a dreamy quality. Almost. This is the first book in a trilogy. Can't wait for the next one.
June 3, 2018
5 stars. Seldom, seldom do you come across a book that holds such simple and colored language to a specific place, time, station, age. In my youth mid-century there were a plethora of these kinds of "work" books. Ones in which the tasks of a physical life were told with the specific skill and also pure, clear precision of a technical direction. And also in the nuance of manners that cores a complex and ever widening circle of actions/ interactions to an entire "eyes" and worldview context. There were many books that did that then. Simple books about real men and women who worked. When work was often something done everyday but also had 100's of different intricate or powerful movements. Learned and often not instinctual movements.
But few of those earlier 20th century books also contained such sublime and superb prose. Short sentences. And emotion not explained but displayed. And context not interpreted or judged in scales of morality but in context that is viewed. And experienced.
Here it is within a 12 year old. Leo's "eyes".
Excellent. Can't wait for the next one in the trilogy. It's coming.
This is not for those who like modern action and pretentious character bouts of lies, competitions, etc.
This is from a time of class divisions accepted and proclaimed. And of identity through work and little else for those majority of the "folks".
I have not read one this good in this category for a couple of decades. And the ones I do remember were all in the present USA geographic area. This one is English and yet quite similar in some regards. The pig sticking day, for instance.
Generational love expressed for survival. No enabling. Family unit as a ever tasking team. Purposes clearly demanded and encapsulated by the material needs. Always.
Tim Pears can write. I'm in awe.
But few of those earlier 20th century books also contained such sublime and superb prose. Short sentences. And emotion not explained but displayed. And context not interpreted or judged in scales of morality but in context that is viewed. And experienced.
Here it is within a 12 year old. Leo's "eyes".
Excellent. Can't wait for the next one in the trilogy. It's coming.
This is not for those who like modern action and pretentious character bouts of lies, competitions, etc.
This is from a time of class divisions accepted and proclaimed. And of identity through work and little else for those majority of the "folks".
I have not read one this good in this category for a couple of decades. And the ones I do remember were all in the present USA geographic area. This one is English and yet quite similar in some regards. The pig sticking day, for instance.
Generational love expressed for survival. No enabling. Family unit as a ever tasking team. Purposes clearly demanded and encapsulated by the material needs. Always.
Tim Pears can write. I'm in awe.
July 13, 2020
The Horseman was included in the longlist for The Walter Scott Prize for Historical Fiction 2018. (The next book in the trilogy, The Wanderers, was on the 2019 longlist and the author made it three out of three when the final book in the trilogy, The Redeemed, made the shortlist for the 2020 prize.)
Unfolding month by month from January 1911 to June 1912, The Horseman charts the activities that take place on the farm and surrounding estate: mowing the fields, gathering the hay, harvesting barley, working the threshing machine. All of these are labour intensive relying not just on human effort but horse power as well. The horses are a valued part of the workforce, needing meticulous care and attention. Occasional diversions are choosing a piglet to be fattened, a trip to the annual horse fair or the excitement of a new waggon making its ‘maiden voyage’.
Young Leo has little interest in the academic subjects taught at school. He prefers observing nature: listening to bird song, watching hares play in the field, seeing pigeons roosting or swallows building their nests. He remarks how some creatures take little notice of his presence, as if he is invisible to them. “So each species of animal had its own peculiarities of vision. This world we surveyed was not as it was but as it was seen, in many different guises.”
Leo has a particular affinity with horses and a love of being around them. “There was a smell of leather and saddle soap. Plough strings, cart saddles, cobble trees and swingletrees, each hung on wooden pegs in its allotted place. These were icons of beauty to the boy…” Initially, he has little ambition beyond following in his father’s footsteps and learning everything he can from him about rearing and caring for horses. However, when Leo’s natural riding ability is noticed by the estate’s owner, Lord Prideaux, it seems to open up other possibilities. “He knew that he would work with horses all his life but understood as he had not before that there were different ways and places to do so. He doubted whether one life was long enough to know all there was to know of horses.”
Leo’s unlikely friendship with Charlotte, daughter of Lord Prideaux, is born out of a shared love of horses and the natural world. However, when an afternoon’s innocent pleasure is misinterpreted, it has far-reaching consequences for Leo and his family, setting his life on a completely different path.
There is some wonderful descriptive writing in the book such as this passage in which Leo walks before first light on a January morning. “There was a frost on the ground, the world was silent and new, he perceived it being born out of the darkness around him. The air was cold and clear. There were skeins of most in the low fields that were like the breath of the land made visible, like his own. The last stars of the night sky disappeared above him into the pale blue.” There is a great sense of place which has been likened to Thomas Hardy’s Wessex. (In fact, the description of Bampton horse fair brought to mind The Mayor of Casterbridge.)
The Horseman is a skilful evocation of life in a rural community in the years before the First World War and a homage to a lost way of life, one governed by tradition and measured by the seasons of the year. The fact the reader knows that life will soon be changed irrevocably gives it extra poignancy. For example, when Leo visits the ‘big house’ for the first time he marvels at the number of workers – gardeners, coaches, grooms, stable boys – employed there. Many of these would likely never return from the War.
The Horseman is a book to be savoured slowly, allowing yourself to become immersed in the day-to-day life of a rural community. I’m looking forward to reading the next book in the trilogy, The Wanderers.
Unfolding month by month from January 1911 to June 1912, The Horseman charts the activities that take place on the farm and surrounding estate: mowing the fields, gathering the hay, harvesting barley, working the threshing machine. All of these are labour intensive relying not just on human effort but horse power as well. The horses are a valued part of the workforce, needing meticulous care and attention. Occasional diversions are choosing a piglet to be fattened, a trip to the annual horse fair or the excitement of a new waggon making its ‘maiden voyage’.
Young Leo has little interest in the academic subjects taught at school. He prefers observing nature: listening to bird song, watching hares play in the field, seeing pigeons roosting or swallows building their nests. He remarks how some creatures take little notice of his presence, as if he is invisible to them. “So each species of animal had its own peculiarities of vision. This world we surveyed was not as it was but as it was seen, in many different guises.”
Leo has a particular affinity with horses and a love of being around them. “There was a smell of leather and saddle soap. Plough strings, cart saddles, cobble trees and swingletrees, each hung on wooden pegs in its allotted place. These were icons of beauty to the boy…” Initially, he has little ambition beyond following in his father’s footsteps and learning everything he can from him about rearing and caring for horses. However, when Leo’s natural riding ability is noticed by the estate’s owner, Lord Prideaux, it seems to open up other possibilities. “He knew that he would work with horses all his life but understood as he had not before that there were different ways and places to do so. He doubted whether one life was long enough to know all there was to know of horses.”
Leo’s unlikely friendship with Charlotte, daughter of Lord Prideaux, is born out of a shared love of horses and the natural world. However, when an afternoon’s innocent pleasure is misinterpreted, it has far-reaching consequences for Leo and his family, setting his life on a completely different path.
There is some wonderful descriptive writing in the book such as this passage in which Leo walks before first light on a January morning. “There was a frost on the ground, the world was silent and new, he perceived it being born out of the darkness around him. The air was cold and clear. There were skeins of most in the low fields that were like the breath of the land made visible, like his own. The last stars of the night sky disappeared above him into the pale blue.” There is a great sense of place which has been likened to Thomas Hardy’s Wessex. (In fact, the description of Bampton horse fair brought to mind The Mayor of Casterbridge.)
The Horseman is a skilful evocation of life in a rural community in the years before the First World War and a homage to a lost way of life, one governed by tradition and measured by the seasons of the year. The fact the reader knows that life will soon be changed irrevocably gives it extra poignancy. For example, when Leo visits the ‘big house’ for the first time he marvels at the number of workers – gardeners, coaches, grooms, stable boys – employed there. Many of these would likely never return from the War.
The Horseman is a book to be savoured slowly, allowing yourself to become immersed in the day-to-day life of a rural community. I’m looking forward to reading the next book in the trilogy, The Wanderers.
June 20, 2018
What a quiet, yet powerful book! It evokes such a powerful feeling of time and place. The author does not make it easy for the reader. I have limited experience with farm animals, but Pears had me reaching for the dictionary frequently. It was totally worth it though. The turn of the century English Manor came alive as did Leo.
Thanks to Jeanette and Diane for your great reviews! I wouldn’t have chosen this on my own.
So happy that I can jump into the second book right away!
Thanks to Jeanette and Diane for your great reviews! I wouldn’t have chosen this on my own.
So happy that I can jump into the second book right away!
November 27, 2019
A beautifully written novel, reminiscent of Hardy. I don’t want to say too much about it as I wouldn’t want to spoil it for anyone but I loved it. Yes, it’s slow in places but that’s where it’s beauty lies. The ending is wonderfully written and I’m keen to read the next one in the trilogy.
March 19, 2017
This writing blew me away and I am so thankful that I spotted this on the shelf at the library. It's one of those books that moves along with short chapters that are seemingly about nothing more than small everyday occurrences in the like of Leo, 12 who lives among the people who work the land and the animals on the farms of a giant estate in England, 1911 where all life is tied to the seasons and the weather. Definitely a "show" vs a "tell" book and I swear at times I could smell/feel the air and that I was right there in the fields with these people. The book goes on at this pace until almost the very end when you get blindsided....hard. I actually wanted to yell..."no!!" It's the first book of a trilogy and I might perhaps die while waiting for the next one....
One note: totally necessary for the book but a little difficult at first is the detailed language about horses, farm equipment, etc. Just get past it...it's worth it. And also, pretty graphic description of a pig slaughter, but again...it's what life was and wouldn't have been authentic without it.
One note: totally necessary for the book but a little difficult at first is the detailed language about horses, farm equipment, etc. Just get past it...it's worth it. And also, pretty graphic description of a pig slaughter, but again...it's what life was and wouldn't have been authentic without it.
September 17, 2017
Currently in the early part of the book which is beautifully and meticulously written but a little slow. The horse sections are well and accurately written but (and this is only because I've had horses all my life) there is a sense of studied information. When Leo is left at the farrier (blacksmith) with a lame mare so that her foot can be checked out her father takes the other two horses that accompanied this mare back to the farm. There's no mention of horses being separated and how they react - doesn't ring true for me.
However, it is evocative and there is a story on its way though it hasn't quite turned up yet.
Well, a couple of weeks later I'm still on page 95. When I'm reading this book it's fine, it more or less holds my interest if I don't attempt to read for longer than about twenty minutes. But once I put the thing down I just forget about ever picking it up again. Beautifully written but oh so very slow and full of really absolutely nothing happening at all. Not even characterisation. In fact the characters are almost non-existent. Boy or is it Leo is just a human body moving about the countryside. Deeply disappointing. Will it get better? I may forget to find out.
It does improve. The writing is really beautiful but quite risky overall to start the novel so slowly. I realise it is presenting a time when things really did move at that pace but tough on the reader. Things get moving about half way through the novel and then I started to sink in and enjoy.
However, it is evocative and there is a story on its way though it hasn't quite turned up yet.
Well, a couple of weeks later I'm still on page 95. When I'm reading this book it's fine, it more or less holds my interest if I don't attempt to read for longer than about twenty minutes. But once I put the thing down I just forget about ever picking it up again. Beautifully written but oh so very slow and full of really absolutely nothing happening at all. Not even characterisation. In fact the characters are almost non-existent. Boy or is it Leo is just a human body moving about the countryside. Deeply disappointing. Will it get better? I may forget to find out.
It does improve. The writing is really beautiful but quite risky overall to start the novel so slowly. I realise it is presenting a time when things really did move at that pace but tough on the reader. Things get moving about half way through the novel and then I started to sink in and enjoy.
wish-list
January 22, 2017
Pony sales, Bampton Fair, c.1900http://www.the-tls.co.uk/articles/pri...
January 19, 2018
Tim Pears’s short novel tells of 15 months in the life of 12 year old Leopold Sercombe, growing up in West Country (the Somerset-Devon border) in 1911. His family live on a farming estate serving the Master (Lord Prideaux) in his manor house doing a variety of jobs around the estate. Leo, skinny, pale and quiet, dreams of a life working on the stud horse farm. He struggles to keep attention in school, his mind wandering to the nature around him, and his passion for horses. One day he meets the Master’s daughter Charlotte, the same age as him, and without realising it, his life has changed.
The real strength of the writing is in the descriptions of the countryside. Pears manages to create clear images in the reader’s mind of Leo’s life. The passages involving the dispatch of the family pig, The Pharoah, and Leo riding the wild horse at the estate’s summer fair.
It is a wonderful coming of age story, and the first book or a trilogy. It is as good as two other tremendous books about similarly aged boys and horses, Per Peterson’s Out Stealing Horses and Willy Vlautin’s Lean On Pete .
The real strength of the writing is in the descriptions of the countryside. Pears manages to create clear images in the reader’s mind of Leo’s life. The passages involving the dispatch of the family pig, The Pharoah, and Leo riding the wild horse at the estate’s summer fair.
It is a wonderful coming of age story, and the first book or a trilogy. It is as good as two other tremendous books about similarly aged boys and horses, Per Peterson’s Out Stealing Horses and Willy Vlautin’s Lean On Pete .
March 16, 2017
I received my copy free from Goodreads in exchange for an honest review.
This is a beautifully written account of the lives of the families who live and work on the lands of Lord Prideaux's estate on the Devon-Somerset border around 1911, particularly the family of eleven year old Leo.
The book is written in a slow and gentle style and is beautifully descriptive. The characters are all well developed and you feel as if you are there watching the events gently unfold. The novel doesn't shirk from the harder and more brutal aspects of life in those times without judging that aspect of life. The book ends with a highly unexpected twist which has left me desperate for the second book in the trilogy.
All in all I loved this book and it is one of my top books of 2017
This is a beautifully written account of the lives of the families who live and work on the lands of Lord Prideaux's estate on the Devon-Somerset border around 1911, particularly the family of eleven year old Leo.
The book is written in a slow and gentle style and is beautifully descriptive. The characters are all well developed and you feel as if you are there watching the events gently unfold. The novel doesn't shirk from the harder and more brutal aspects of life in those times without judging that aspect of life. The book ends with a highly unexpected twist which has left me desperate for the second book in the trilogy.
All in all I loved this book and it is one of my top books of 2017
March 30, 2017
Such a beautiful story of a tenant farmer's son who has a way with horses and, yet, is limited by his class in society. Leo befriends the lord's daughter, who also has a way with animals. The friendship of these kindred spirits is lovely but troubling. It is all set in rural England over a century ago and I got thoroughly immersed in the detailed descriptions of the farming life. I think the breaking of the spirited horse really made the point of the book. If you do not fit in to your designated role, you will be broken. However, knowing the first world war is looming, those roles would be changed forever. I eagerly anticipate the second of this trilogy.
February 19, 2020
beautiful 1910's pastoral English tale
explores a young boy's life in the regimented and structured social world as part of a working farm family on a large estate.
in large part reads as a love story for the natural world and the pace and respect of the various tradespeople for the seasons and their largely unchanging roles
character development really only takes off towards the end as he builds relationship with local aristocrat's daughter
explores a young boy's life in the regimented and structured social world as part of a working farm family on a large estate.
in large part reads as a love story for the natural world and the pace and respect of the various tradespeople for the seasons and their largely unchanging roles
character development really only takes off towards the end as he builds relationship with local aristocrat's daughter
April 12, 2017
Very detailed which might put some off but the descriptions of farm life are amazing and tender but not syrupy.
April 17, 2022
A fantastic read. I don't consider myself a horse person and there is a LOT about horses and agriculture in this historical novel. However, Tim Pears has clearly researched the subject and the detailed description was both impressive and convincing. There is a sense of changing times and agricultural practices which threaten the fabric of rural society. The story at the heart of the novel is a simple one but I found it very moving while the main character has complexity and a rich inner life despite his seemingly shy, taciturn demeanour. I am looking forward to reading the other two novels in the trilogy.
October 16, 2017
It took me a while to get into this book, but it was well worth it in the end.
It is constructed from episodes in lives of the rural inhabitants of a Devon estate. The grouse shoot, ploughing, harvest and threshing, their lives follow a set rhythm of toil as their grandparents' and great grandparent’s did before them. Their place in the world secure and unchanging. The boy, Leopold Sercombe, the son of a carter is the main character. Gifted with horses he is more often a quiet observer than an actor in the small dramas that surround him. We see the world through his eyes, the rich descriptions of the yearly cycle of life on the estate are vivid and wonderful. The stacking of the hay, threshing the wheat and so on, rich in detail and, I assume, meticulously researched. The language is simple and beautiful and the author does an excellent job transporting us right into that time and place.
Eventually descriptions alone were enough to hook me in (Having worked on farms in west wales many years ago I felt a direct connection to many of the episodes which may have helped). That was just as well really, because for most of the book there is very little obvious plot, time passes but little changes. It takes slow to the extreme. I admit at first I was dubious as to whether I would finish as the whole thing seems a little flat, but once I started just to let it flow over me, like slow tv, or those episodes of the Archers where nothing really happens but the predictable pattern of rural life is deeply comforting, I really started to enjoy it.
And then the ending! It feels like a spoiler to say that the book even has and ending when all the strands you didn’t notice before are pulled tight, and doesn't just end on some picturesque description of hedge cutting or some such. I don’t feel I can safely say anything about the last two chapters, which is a shame because I have a lot to talk about.
It is constructed from episodes in lives of the rural inhabitants of a Devon estate. The grouse shoot, ploughing, harvest and threshing, their lives follow a set rhythm of toil as their grandparents' and great grandparent’s did before them. Their place in the world secure and unchanging. The boy, Leopold Sercombe, the son of a carter is the main character. Gifted with horses he is more often a quiet observer than an actor in the small dramas that surround him. We see the world through his eyes, the rich descriptions of the yearly cycle of life on the estate are vivid and wonderful. The stacking of the hay, threshing the wheat and so on, rich in detail and, I assume, meticulously researched. The language is simple and beautiful and the author does an excellent job transporting us right into that time and place.
Eventually descriptions alone were enough to hook me in (Having worked on farms in west wales many years ago I felt a direct connection to many of the episodes which may have helped). That was just as well really, because for most of the book there is very little obvious plot, time passes but little changes. It takes slow to the extreme. I admit at first I was dubious as to whether I would finish as the whole thing seems a little flat, but once I started just to let it flow over me, like slow tv, or those episodes of the Archers where nothing really happens but the predictable pattern of rural life is deeply comforting, I really started to enjoy it.
And then the ending! It feels like a spoiler to say that the book even has and ending when all the strands you didn’t notice before are pulled tight, and doesn't just end on some picturesque description of hedge cutting or some such. I don’t feel I can safely say anything about the last two chapters, which is a shame because I have a lot to talk about.
January 28, 2018
Wow. This little book has such a precise and beautiful sense of time and place - almost insular-looking and, on the face of it, making few allowances for the unprepared reader - that it is initially hard to get into it. But, bit by bit, I was drawn in and right there in every scene with our lead character, young Leo, until the unexpected heartbreaking end. But two further books are promised, so all is not over for him...
It doesn't matter if you've no interest in horses. It's not (only) for the horsey set. We care about Leo. And horses are what he knows and loves. I don't know how Pears does it, but it's insidiously stunning. Just ignore the blurb and read the book.
Oh, and he's reading from the book next week and I hope to get there.
It doesn't matter if you've no interest in horses. It's not (only) for the horsey set. We care about Leo. And horses are what he knows and loves. I don't know how Pears does it, but it's insidiously stunning. Just ignore the blurb and read the book.
Oh, and he's reading from the book next week and I hope to get there.
November 7, 2017
It is a story attractively told and in considerable detail. It moves at the pace of life at the time in which the novel is set - until a crescendo of action in the last few pages. The story of the young carter's son is haunting and the more so as we are never privy to his thoughts or emotions.
If one seeks an action-packed thriller, this is definitely not the book for you. If, on the other hand, you wasn't a charming introduction to life in the English countryside 100 years ago, Tim Pears' book is strongly recommended.
The characters of a number of the protagonists come to the fore and their duplicates could well be found in many a village to this day. Their observations of the natural life around them are very much those of a countryside dweller. The book has an undoubted charm.
If one seeks an action-packed thriller, this is definitely not the book for you. If, on the other hand, you wasn't a charming introduction to life in the English countryside 100 years ago, Tim Pears' book is strongly recommended.
The characters of a number of the protagonists come to the fore and their duplicates could well be found in many a village to this day. Their observations of the natural life around them are very much those of a countryside dweller. The book has an undoubted charm.
October 21, 2019
The first in Tim Pears’s West Country trilogy, of which I’d already read the second and the third. (Weird, yes, but take from this the fact that you can start reading the books in pretty much any order.) This volume focuses on life working the land on a manor estate in Edwardian Devon, before our young protagonist Leo is (metaphorically) expelled from Eden. It’s just as beautiful—hyper-focused, lyrical, unsentimental about either nature or farming—as the other two. More people should be reading Pears. He knows what he’s about; in fact, he’s so good that attempting to analyze, critique or review his work feels somewhat superfluous.
January 16, 2021
A bit of a weird one for me. It starts off extremely slow, packed with tedious detail about the ins and outs of farming, which is great if you’re into that sort of stuff, but I’m not. It does start to pick up, though, after the first hundred pages, although to nothing too special. However, the description of the setting, which is why I bought the book in the first place, is frequently impressive, vivid and engaging. The ending was much more my style. Torn between whether I’ll read the sequel or not. A decent book, and I recommend skimming over the bits you find dull and just soak up the underlying storyline instead.
September 6, 2020
Terrific book. It takes the reader back to 1901 in a country estate made up of 6 farms. Beautiful details and description of the ordinary work required to husband the land . The people and horses fill this story with loving tribute. The people emerge as bit players in the setting of the last century. Wonderful, rich moments are captured as the reader follows the life of a promising young horseman. This story is like a warm soak in a fragrant bath.
August 13, 2017
Wow, didn't see that ending coming. Written with beautiful language. It slowly unfurls over about 2 years time, enveloping you in the slow rhythms of farming in the West Country of England in 1911-1912. The characters are likewise revealed very slowly but quite in depth.
I will be watching for the second book and may try one of his others in the meantime.
I will be watching for the second book and may try one of his others in the meantime.
April 8, 2017
Set in the English countryside in 1911 with extensive detail about the customs of farming at that time. The main protagonist is a 12 year-old boy gifted with superior knowledge of horses.
October 15, 2020
This glorious novel quietly opens a door onto a year in the life of a small farm on a large Devon estate in 1911. It moves at a snail's pace through the minutiae of the farming year, full of astonishingly detailed accounts of the everyday labour - intensive activities that frame the country life. At the heart is Leo, the son of the carter, an introverted boy who is obsessed with nature, horses most of all. He wants to become a head groom one day. It seems that this bucolic idyll will never change and yet we know the dream cannot survive much longer. A sense of doom hovers :world war one is imminent. It will affect Leo and his generation most particularly;the resultant social upheaval will end this life forever.
After so much gentle prose, the tragic denoument is a sudden and brutal intrusion. The certainties of Leo's life are ripped from him and he is abandoned to fate, much like what is waiting for his entire generation. This is a masterful piece of work, almost Hardy - like in its elegiac qualities and sense of time and place. A triumph. I am eager to read the rest of the trilogy and follow Leo's progress.
After so much gentle prose, the tragic denoument is a sudden and brutal intrusion. The certainties of Leo's life are ripped from him and he is abandoned to fate, much like what is waiting for his entire generation. This is a masterful piece of work, almost Hardy - like in its elegiac qualities and sense of time and place. A triumph. I am eager to read the rest of the trilogy and follow Leo's progress.
January 2, 2019
I realise that this book will not appeal to many people but I found it to be an excellent evocation of rural England 19911/12. Obviously well researched, it also provided us with a wonderful insight into the mores of the time. The characters are understated but remarkable. I loved it and have passed it on to friends of my own age and background!
July 18, 2019
This a prime example of if the quality of writing is there, lyricism of language, then it doesn't matter one iota what the genre is. Not that I'm against slow-paced pastoral, but this is a particularly wonderful example of it; too many others get bogged down in domesticity. Family interactions, evocation of 1911 rural life - all so well-evoked.
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June 18, 2017I love horses so that first drew me in.Such a wonderful, lyrical tale of life in rural England,1911.
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