Mare

'For a long time I had not been that person. For a long time horses had not occurred to me at all.'

For a long time, she and her husband have their dog and she almost certainly doesn't want to have a child. But then the dog dies and she learns she can't have a child even if she wanted to, and she begins to think about horses again. When she hears about a mare who needs looking after part-time, it sounds like an ideal arrangement. Something to care for two days a week, without getting in too deep. But as she brushes and feeds and rides the horse, affection grows into obsession and she must confront what it means to love a being who did not come from her body and who does not belong to her.

Emily Haworth-Booth's award-winning debut novel is a bold and beautiful exploration of contemporary (non)motherhood and the surprising ways in which desire can enthral us and set us free.



About the Author :
Emily Haworth-Booth teaches at the Royal Drawing School and is an illustrator, graphic novelist and children's author. She was a Foyles Young Poet, and won the Observer/Cape/Comica graphic short story prize. Her debut picture book The King Who Banned the Dark was shortlisted for the Waterstones' Children's Book Prize and Independent Bookshop Week Book Award, and longlisted for the Kate Greenaway Prize. She is also the author of two other books for children, The Last Tree and Protest! She lives in Devon with her husband, dog, and several horses.

Review :
Incredible, wonderfully weird and thought-provoking. I loved its take on gender and physicality, and our proximity to the natural world Captivating and unique. A novel I had no idea I was yearning for until I started to read it. Mare is already the winner of a significant prize and deserves to become a classic Immersive, tender, nuanced and radically attentive to the strangeness and wonder of human love - for each other, for a mouse, for a horse. A blissful read A bold, deft and deeply moving story about animal love and motherhood, and what it means to be devoted to another being. With extraordinary suppleness and an arresting lightness of touch, Haworth-Booth travels deep into the joys, mysteries and heartaches of relationships to reveal a vision of attachment that is startlingly lucid, and liberated. A daring book, and a brilliant one - a beautiful challenge for our times Emily Haworth-Booth writes the heartbreak of a body, of the world, of caring, with immense tenderness and humour. I loved the peripheries of solitude and communion traced in this wild, melancholy, marvellous novel What a special book! I love Emily's funny, honest writing, so deeply particular and still profoundly relatable. She takes the knotty, strange thoughts that our minds catch on, daily, and makes them clear and beautiful An extraordinary, daring book... Haworth-Booth makes the private, mundane, knotty details of one woman's days hum with life. In the quiet rituals of care - brushing, feeding, noticing - she finds a rhythm that is both tender and exacting. This is a novel about how we might express ourselves, if only we allowed ourselves that freedom. About ways of mothering, about friendship, about connecting to both the human and more-than-human world... Mare is precise, vital, utterly compelling. I loved it Finely observed and exquisitely written... A wonderful and surprising work that goes to the heart and stays there This intimate book is not a memoir, a treatise, a novel, a poem, a lyric essay, a lament, or a joke - but is also, excitingly, all of these things. It blurs the boundaries of genre, but also of species, bodies and gender... A gorgeous, generous work that is tough, vulnerable, and analytically sharp A moving love story that gallops across the species divide, and yet somehow leaves the reader clearer in their humanity I adore this book! Haworth-Booth is a stunningly clever writer! A tender, exhilarating and humorous exploration into female subjectivity, the body, animal instinct, and love, essentially, love Warm and reflective, a novel that exists beautifully outside of human relationships, coming to rest instead on the love of a horse, and the vulnerability and strength of the animal and human body both There are an awful lot of novels about new motherhood. There are considerably less about non-motherhood... An affecting portrait of love and care in its many forms, written with a calm, incantatory beauty Lovably modest and impressively profound. Readers may be reminded of animal memoirs such as Raising Hare and H Is for Hawk... If there is a mystical wisdom of women, it is in the mucking out and the soaking of feed, in that continuous present where love is arduous and unasked for and unrewarded, but also the shape of the real