I am the wrong reader for this book—call it occupational hazard, as I’ve been a pediatric psychiatric nurse for twenty years, and can’t help comparing the teen protagonist, Roan, to the actual children and teens I’ve worked with in her situation. Mihalic sets up a suspenseful narrative, as far as keeping the reader on edge throughout the novel. The story is not boring--it is rather exciting--although melodramatic--and I suspect that any reader will be turning the pages with anticipation and horror, as the author intended. My concern is that the text and voice do not contain the gravitas and nuance that would be necessary to convey for a child such as this one, abused repeatedly since age six by the person she should trust the most. That is what kept me out of the realm of believing that this was credible.
A friend suggested that perhaps Roan is an outlier, with her ability to keep it together; moreover, she is able to have a healthy relationship with a loving boyfriend. He isn’t just a caring, compassionate, attractive teenager—he is wise beyond his years. Girls such as Roan are plausibly unable to have a healthy relationship, especially with no therapy, no emotional/familial support, no security, and, in DARK HORSES, the expectation to win every horse riding competition that she is in (and often does). I suppose that there are a few blind people who can drive—but is that the stakes that this author is trying to set up?
If I were a sexually abused teen, and I read this book, I would feel even worse about myself for failing to accomplish what Roan does. There’s no screed that obligates the author to write this in a specific way, but I was still hoping that she would aim at a more realistic portrait of what to expect of this protagonist. She’s more than a mere survivor in DARK HORSES. Every day, she gets stronger (and again, without the help of therapy or family support) and more capable. She hasn’t told her boyfriend about her father raping her on a daily basis, but she straddles both worlds carefully.
Roan describes the pain, physically and psychically, and some of her more complex, incongruous emotions, but it felt author-inserted rather than authentic. But, if you have never encountered someone like Roan, you may be piqued, as Mihalic excels at pacing and structure. It also leans toward a YA voice and approach, even thought the content is for mature audiences—perhaps it is meant to be inclusive.
What the author lacks in subtlety and credibility, she makes up by being more graphic as we move to the latter part of the novel. However, these graphic events happened to Roan for the past ten years (she is 16), but by saving the most harrowing scenes for later in the story, the reader is manipulated into feeling that the stakes are higher and more urgent toward the climax, when they have been just as emergent all along.
Story-wise, the only reason that Roan doesn’t report her father is that she doesn’t want to give up her goals of being a professional champion horse rider. Her father is wealthy and owns this horse farm, which allows her to pursue her dream. So—but for her aspirations, she would turn her father into the authorities? In actuality, girls don’t report their fathers for more complicated reasons of guilt, shame, and fear. This reduced it to a rich girl’s problem, even though the author didn’t intend that.
Considering Roan’s circumstances, and how damaged she is, she is way more level-headed and emotionally appropriate than most girls her age that aren’t abused. No problem with boundaries, no cutting or other self-harm, no actual suicide attempts. Even when she drinks, it doesn’t exceed amounts of many rebellious teens. It feels contrived so that Roan can possess some kind of verified self-destructive behavior. Ironically, however, when Roan is triggered, she usually gets more determined and resolute as the pages turn, even though she hasn’t had an ounce of expert help.
The interval that she keeps her boyfriend at arm’s length is to keep the secret, and she keeps the secret so she can be a champion. There’s compartmentalizing, sure, but that survival instinct that kicks in often leads to disassociation in girls suffering this ritual abuse; but with Roan, it keeps her externally poised, sufficiently enough to continue the charade. The author wants too reductive a dissonance between her truth and the fiction she lives. To depict contrast? She’s just too unflappable to the wider world. Notwithstanding the abuse, she successfully achieves at just about everything. It doesn’t bleed over messily as it should to be convincing. No adults see any signs—the social worker at the hospital was a plot ploy more than substantive.
I don’t know who to recommend this book to, other than young, naïve teens, to introduce them to this subject matter. I’m conflicted there, too, since I didn’t feel it was genuine—Roan had the cynosure of all eyes. The author was attempting to demonstrate that Roan was perceived as an envied teen although a victim of daily assault--the contrast. And then a Hollywood ending, a Cinderella finale, which is disingenuous and undermines the subject matter. I just didn’t buy it. Mihalic has talent, and I would like to read a novel by her with a different premise. She certainly has a gift for pacing, rhythm, and structure of a suspense story.
Thank you to Scout Press and Netgalley for an advanced digital copy