Customer Reviews

The Horse Boy: A Father's Quest to Heal His Son (Thorndike Press Large Print Basic Series)

5 star:		(47)
4 star:		(9)
3 star:		(3)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(4)

 

 

If you had a child who needed your help with a critical problem like autism, where would you turn after you had been to all the doctors, all the clinics, and all the psychologists? Would you pace around your own dusty Texas backyard, and then turn to your neighbor's Quarter horse mare, to see if she might be able to help? Horses helped you when you were a child, didn't they? And if she did help him...then what? Would you stop there?

Or would you go to the ends of the equine earth to try to help your child? If a little bit of horse is good, would a lot of horse be better? Would you set aside all the cultural and belief systems you hold and look for help in a place so strange and foreign that only the smell of the horses was familiar?

If you did those things, it would sound and look like the story and photos in this important new book, the true story of a family on the run toward hope, because they already know it is futile to stand still. "It's important to do something," the experts tell them. But no one expected a young family to "do" an adventure like this.

THE HORSE BOY weaves together autism, adventure and equine threads into one lovely braided mane of a tale that is not a how-to, not a guide and certainly not a declaration of a cure found for autism. It is simply the narrative of going after hope and finding bits along the way, like you'd find tufts of fur on a fence where a horse has rubbed his shedding coat at winter's end: Signs of better, lighter times to come.

Read this book to catch the contagion of hope, to feel the rhythm of horses moving under you across the Asian Steppes; to taste the highs and lows of living with autism, both for the child and for the parent; to marvel at the wisdom and yet sometimes callous nature of the revered shamanistic wise men of the nomadic tribes of Mongolia; and to most of all remember that we don't all live in the same world, but that any world usually looks better from the back of a horse.

When Rupert Isaacson and his wife Kristen Neff had a baby boy, they were ecstatic. Things seemed to be going along fine until their son, Rowan, was about 2 years old. Kristen is a professor of human development and she noticed that some things weren't quite right. She did some research and discovered that Rowan had all but one of the classic signs of autism. Rupert and Kristen tried everything they could think of to reach their son - from traditional treatments to new, untested ideas. Nothing seemed to work - if anything, Rowan's symptoms became worse and they found they couldn't leave him with anyone else. Rowan loves animals, though and the only thing that seemed to calm him down was being outside.

When Rowan and Rupert were walking one day, they ended up on a neighbor's property and encountered his horses. Rupert is an experienced horseman and noticed that the lead mare assumed a submissive stance around Rowan. When Rupert told their neighbor, he immediately gave him the keys to his saddle room and told him to take Rowan to ride Betsy whenever he wanted. Rupert and Rowan rode Betsy almost daily for three years and while Rowan was around the horse, he seemed to make progress. This caused an idea to brew in Rupert's mind - why not take Rowan on a horseback journey through Mongolia to visit shamans there? Kristen resisted the idea at first, but finally went along.

So, in 2007, Rupert and Kristen took their 5 year old son, who was prone to tantrums, had poor language and social skills and wasn't potty trained on the trip of a lifetime across Mongolia. The Horse Boy: A Father's Quest to Heal His Son by Rupert Isaacson is the story of their journey.

I listened to this audio book on a recent trip to my parents'. It is read by the author and he does a fantastic job. I'm not sure anyone else could imitate Rowan's tones the way he does. He is honest with his love and frustration and optimism. This book chronicles the remarkable journey of hope the Isaacson's took to try to benefit their son. I found it to be inspirational - it gave me a greater understanding of the struggles that families of autistic children face and brought tears to my eyes.

The proceeds from this book have gone to create The Horse Boy Foundation - you can read about it here.

I just finished The Horse Boy and recommend it highly. It's beautifully-written, honest, and in places very funny. As the mother of a 23-year-old son with moderate to severe autism, I didn't close the book and make plane reservations for Mongolia. My husband and I will never take our son to visit Shamans, anywhere, as a matter of fact, but that doesn't mean we don't agree with the theme of the book. Rupert Isaacson's story encourages families to keep living, even when faced with the challenges of autism. That's certainly a message I can agree with, having lived with autism for 20 years. While The Horse Boy describes a life-changing adventure, it doesn't claim that the trip cured Rowan's autism. But Rowan improved in a couple key areas while they were away and the journey changed their whole family. They all came home happier and stronger and closer to one another--and, in turn, better able to face autism without letting it get them down.

A travel writer with a penchant for political advocacy and a tolerant, soul searching wife venture to the untamed landscape of Outer Mongolia with their five year old son whose behaviors would sap the loving intentions of any parent. The objective was to find the Shamans who could heal their son, an exploit that entailed meeting the chairman of the Shaman's Association of Mongolia, ceremonies where they were spat on with vodka, lashed with rawhide followed by jumping as the ground beneath their feet was whipped, consuming half-cooked, bloody animal organs and traveling to the far north by horse to find the Shaman living amongst the reindeer people.

Descriptions of exotic cultures and Rupert Isaacson's humor (i.e. "Code Brown" for poopy pants) make this an enjoyable book to read. In addition, the meaning behind such an odyssey with filmmaker friends, translator Tulga and numerous guides and horses to carry equipment, supplies and Rowan's dietary staple of bacon beckons profound questions. Can the shamans heal Rowan of tantrums, incontinence and social isolation; to stride one leg into the world of friends, play, asking questions and self- control?

Did this trip cure Rowan or at least reduce the symptoms of autism? A simple yes or no will not suffice. All of the sensory stimulation that Rowan experienced both on the neighbor's horse, Betsy and horses on their Asian journey contributed to normalizing a nervous system set on high alert. The up and down, forward and sudden halt, side to side movements wile riding organize the brain, making a child more available for learning. The heavy pushing on arms, hands and neck while bouncing and jostling stimulate the joints and muscles and the touch and smells of horses and all the other animals in Rowan's life again worked to make an engine like nervous system run at a more normal speed.

But what about the impact of an Mongolian culture that accepts those with social differences in sharp contrast to the tourist who took the liberty to tell Rowan's parents to control their kid in public. We also must not neglect the fact that the mother and father who provided the genetic material that gave Rowan the disposition to connect with animals, spiritual awareness and innate cognitive abilities (reading sentences by age six!) enabled him to blossom given the perfect storm of emotional, sensory and cognitive stimulation.

A story about healing a child with autism is destined to be controversial and strike a different cord in each reader. As an occupational therapist who has eschewed the dictates of school therapies to put joyful children on horses as I work to improve their sensory processing, language and motor skills I wholeheartedly believe in the power of the horse, as a living therapeutic tool. I combine the principles of sensory integration (providing the stimulation that helps the brain get organized to learn) with behavioral modification- saying "fast" will bring a reward of trotting movement and tantrumming will result in the horse stopping. Children who hate to touch objects learn that grasping and pulling reins makes the horse stop so that they can be rewarded with a high five from dad.

Another reason I highly recommend reading this book is so that readers can experience the intensity of parenting a child with autism, to empathize with its impact on a marriage and admire the force of love that propelled such a journey, book and soon to be movie. May that tourist who so readily criticized Rowan's parents for not controlling his volume turn red with shame and may the rest of us become a bit more open to those who are different, but all hold the same rights to social inclusion.

One last thought- the author questions whether such children should even be "cured" but rather instead better accepted in our culture of limited acceptance. Should those with atypical brains (atypical because they are the minority, but quickly gaining in numbers) even be considered deviant in the first place? There is a whole "Aspie World" (the term Aspie was coined by Liane Holliday Willy) out there and brilliant minds- such as Temple Grandin's who think outside the box. As my math majoring 20 year old Aspie said when I asked if he wanted to be part of a research project looking at how students with Asperger's syndrome are managing in college- "don't those neurotypical researchers have anything better to do than gawk at us geniuses?" HA!
Barbara Smith, M.S., OTR/L is the author of The Recycling Occupational Therapist and Still Giving Kisses: A Guide to Helping and Enjoying the Alzheimer's Victim You Love

To be the parent of an autistic child like Rowan Isaacson --- I can't imagine it. Life gets reduced to tantrums and the space between them. Toilet training is an impossible goal; once a day, maybe more, you declare "Code Brown". Even a small thing, like your kid playing well with others, is an impermissible dream.

I could say it's crueler still that Kristin, Rowan's mother, is a professor of psychology at the University of Austin in Texas, and that Rupert, his father, is a horse trainer and writer of considerable skill. But really, it's not crueler. Autism is a leveler --- it destroys marriages at every level of the cultural scale. And then, of course, there's the kid, trapped inside, with a life sentence.

You know, going in, that there's a happy ending to The Horse Boy: A Father's Quest to Heal His Son. The cover shouts it: the boy on a horse, arm raised in triumph, and the father, holding him, ecstatic in the moment. That picture is something I turned to often as I read. Because this autism thing, it's really hard. I'd read about it before, but when you're reading a father talking about his hopeless kid --- that's hard.

A cure? Good luck. Autism is contained. Dealt with. Adjusted to. No cure exists.

But Rupert Isaacson noticed that when Rowan went into the woods, he got calm. And then came the day that Rowan ran into the neighbor's horse pasture. He ended up in front of the "alpha mare", a big horse called Betsy. And Betsy stopped. She dipped her head. Isaacson writes:

"I knew I was witnessing something extraordinary. The mare was spontaneously submitting to the child on the ground before her. In all the years that I had been training horses, I had never seen this happen. My son had some kind of direct link to the horse."

"And then I cried, the tears coming silent and unbidden on that humid June day, because I thought: 'He's got it. He's got the horse gene. But he's autistic. I'll never be able to share it with him. Never be able to teach him to ride. Never share this joy with my son.'"

"It's stunning how wrong a parent can be."

But then Rupert Isaacson gets it right. It sounds crazy, even to him, but he gets an idea: "Northern Mongolia, the place where the horse evolved, the last place on Earth with wild horses, was also the place where the word shaman --- literally 'he who knows' --- came from." So he'll take his son to Mongolia. And there, perhaps, he will find what eludes him in the West: a healing.

He writes a book proposal, and, to his astonishment, gets a huge advance. A film crew appears. And off Rowan, Rupert and Kristin go.

I have read many travel books about the East; the combination of the exotic and the spiritual is catnip for me. I've never read one remotely like this. Easy to figure out why: The stakes seem higher here --- not just personal salvation but the future of a child.

You may not have to deal with autism. But the moral of the story is universal. When you're confronted with a problem that blights your life, don't just accept it. Do something. If it fails, do something else. And never, never, never give up.

I work with autistic children and horses as a volunteer at a local facility providing hippotherapy to children with various issues. I find it incredibly rewarding, and I was hoping this book would explore the bond between the horse and child, and focus on the healing that occurred (which I see virtually every week). I guess that occurred to some degree, but my overall impression of the book was a litany of difficulties that were experienced on the trip, and an over-focusing on the tantrums Rowan threw. At the end there are a few short pages that talk about his improvements, but I wanted more on that. To me, this book was more about the father, and how he coped with the daily difficulties of the trip, than about his child. Kristin, the mother, was curiously absent throughout the story.

On the plus side, I feel like I vicariously traveled to Mongolia. It sounds beautiful there.

I have had the privilege of working with autistic children in hippotherapy and theraputic riding settings, and was definately looking forward to reading this book. What these parents have done for this child is absolutely remarkable - it shows what perserverence, love and open-mindedness can do. When mainstream therapy did not work, they stumbled upon the amazing and fascinating relationship between an autistic child and animals, most specifically, horses. Whether or not you are a horseperson, or have insight into autism, the book is well written, and those things are well explained. This is a very moving and uplifting book, and I can't wait to read an update on Rowan's life.

4.5 stars (round to 5)

This nonfiction book is part travel narrative and part memoir, which makes it wholly interesting and original. I always enjoy travel writing, especially when it involves an adventurous trip off the beaten path, as this does (to the remote reindeer herders of Siberia.)

There were a couple of special things about this book that I really related to, so I'm probably not completely objective about it.

First, two days before the announcement was made that this would be my book club's selection, I received the results from some genealogical DNA tests I had ordered. They revealed a huge surprise. We knew that my grandmother was almost 100% German, and we knew her family tree for quite a few generations back. But her mitochondrial DNA was of a very rare type, one that is found only in the reindeer-herding tribespeople of Siberia! MtDNA is very ancient, and clearly one of my grandmother's German ancestors had a Siberian ancestral mother. So I was really excited to read about these people who share my DNA.

Secondly, the author's autistic son is named Rowan, which was my first choice for my youngest son's name - for the same reasons that the author and his wife chose it. Unfortunately, my husband nixed that name, but nevertheless I felt an instant connection with Rowan the Horse Boy.

In the book, Isaacson and his wife take Rowan to Siberia in the hope of healing for his autism, having exhausted every other resource to no avail. Isaacson was involved in a legal case in which some Bushmen of Africa were fighting for the rights to their homeland. He became interested in their shamaans' healing methods, after having witnessed impressive results. When he tried having a Bushman shamaan do a healing ceremony on Rowan, the results were startling but did not last.

Another thing Isaacson noticed was the special bond Rowan had with animals, especially their neighbor's horse. Riding and interacting with the horse also brought great strides in Rowan's development.

So Isaacson decided to combine the two, and take Rowan to Siberian Mongolia, where the world's best horsemen practice an unbroken shamaanic tradition that goes back thousands of years. The logistics of planning a trip to such a remote place are intimidating, but when the challenges of traveling with a child as severely autistic as Rowan is added to the mix, it verged on the impossible. But Isaacson was determined to help his son, and nothing else had worked.

The vivid depiction of Mongolia and its people is fascinating. But the love that Rupert , his wife Kristin, and Rowan have for each other make this book beautiful as well. It might be a little New-Agey for some readers, but note that Rupert had a healthy dose of skepticism about the whole thing himself. And Kristin had much more - she was adamantly against the idea at first. Both of them deserve kudos for keeping an open mind and being willing to do anything to help their son.

The book has a section of color photographs, but I strongly recommend watching the DVD as well (either before or after reading the book, I don't think it would matter.) One great thing about watching the DVD is getting to see Dr. Temple Grandin, the wildlife biologist and adult autist who befriended the Isaacsons and is often referred to and quoted in the book. But perhaps the most powerful impact of the DVD is seeing what Rowan's tantrums are like. Isaacson repeatedly describes these tantrums - uncontrollable neurological firestorms - using worlds such as "ear-piercing", "head-splitting" and "crazy-making". But it's beyond anything words can tell. You have to see for yourself what these parents were up against. And their calm patience with Rowan is just incredible: hard-won as it was through understanding and years of experience. As Rupert himself says in the book, of course they were always conscious that they were being filmed and thus were on their best behavior, but even so, their patience is exceptional.

And there is no doubting the sincerity of these parents' love and the depths of their patience. Yet Isaacson is unusually candid about the times that patience failed, and the stress that Rowan's autism placed on their marriage. His account is open and honest. The reader feels that he or she has really come to know and care about this family, and wants them to succeed and be happy.

It's kind of an aside from the main theme of the book, but Isaacson's description of his wife's (Dr. Kristin Neff's) research really resonated with me: "Over the last few years, Kristin's Buddhist practice had been merging more and more with her academic psychology work. Specifically, she had been conducting research into the Buddhist concept of self-compassion, the idea being to cultivate kindness and forgiveness toward yourself as well as others: no easy task, especially in times of suffering or failure. However, the studies she'd been publishing seemed to show that self-compassion was better for mental health than the conventional psychological wisdom, which equates high self-esteem with positive mental health. Kristin had found that the constant pursuit of high self-esteem becomes, over time, an obsession with feeling superior and special, an emotional roller-coaster that you can never get off. By contrast, self-compassion allows you to look clearly at yourself, forgive yourself, and then make the necessary changes to achieve mental equilibrium." This made so much sense to me that I looked up her website and plan to read some of the books she recommends. [...]

I hope that Rupert Isaacson will write a sequel. I want to know what eventually becomes of Rowan, and his parents.


(356 pages)

How many of us would have the courage to write about our personal struggles in plain daylight for all the world to judge? That is exactly what Rupert Isaacson does. The book opens with Rupert giving us background: his romance, and Rowan's birth and then their discovery of Rowan's autism. He describes Rowan's behavior in great detail. I am ready to tell him, "Just let him scream, he will stop, don't indulge him. So what if the neighbors think you are killing him......" Oh yeah that is what his mother said. I read on ...they have tried many therapies and nothing works. The only thing that calms him is a horse. And medicine men....
(I have seen this with small children and my horses. My 16+ hand giants carefully protecting the 3 and 4 year olds who wrap themselves around their legs while I am freaking out. Is it the unconditional love they offer children? Unconditional love we have forgotten how to give?)

Rupert follows his intuition and arranges a trip to Mongolia...a horse trip to see if Rowan can be cured. Kristin is not so willing, but finally she agrees. He gives us the straight poop on that trip...as a matter of fact he gives us the details on "code brown" so many times that I want to throw it at him. Then I think, "This is easy for me to say what if I had to live 24/7 with Rowan?" I don't think I could do it.
The book is a well written page turner. We walk and ride with this family to the wilds of Mongolian and visit the shamans with them. Rowan is deemed, "Possessed" and after time in the back country of Mongolia and multiple shamans, he turns a corner and is on the way to recovery. Of note Rowan and Kristin are also cured....was it the shaman? The hardship? Days in remote wilderness away from the crassness of cities and modern life? Did they learn to love?
Of course, not every family with an autistic child can or should go to Mongolia and find shaman. This book is thought provoking. A must read for parents of autistic children if only to help them have some compassion for themselves and some hope.
One in 150 children born today will be diagnosed with autism. There is clearly something we are doing wrong as a society. The rate among the Amish is 1:10,000 in European countries it is ten-fold less. Perhaps it is that in losing touch with nature and our true nature in this hyperstimulated, high anxiety, materialistic, greedy society we are inadvertently hurting our children who are like canaries in the mine shaft. This book gives a lot to contemplate...what does it mean to be possessed?

To explore autism further read Temple Grandin's books.
The Way I See It: A Personal Look at Autism and Asperger's

I could not put this book down--it is so beautifully and honestly written. Being a little bit travelogue, a little bit mystical and a lot of a family love story, I got lost in it.
The world is not always as we see it and this book takes us with the family of a severely austistic child on a journey to Mongolia to look beyond the veil of western reality. It's also the story of a father who refuses to give up on his child even when his condition seems impossible. It's not an easy trip but it is one filled with beauty, magic,courage and hope. So much hope.