Customer Reviews

Thunderhead

5 star:		(11)
4 star:		(4)
3 star:		(0)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

The second in the Flicka trilogy, "Thunderhead" is a masterpiece of its genre. Like "My Friend Flicka," it isn't a children's book per se. It's a dark book, really, reflecting a lot of harsh reality, from Rob McLaughlin's ongoing and desperate struggle to keep his Goose Bar Ranch from financial ruin, to the constant and sometimes overwhelming battle to survive against the harsh Wyoming wildnerness, to a son's increasingly rebellious need to prove himself as a man.

Ken McLaughlin has matured greatly in this book. He is no longer the quiet dreamer afraid of his own shadow, and particularly of his father. But his thoughtful sensitivity is still evident, and when his beloved mare Flicka gives birth to her first foal, Ken must strain all his inner resources to fight for her and her baby.

The foal, Thunderhead, is a throwback to a wild strain that Rob has tried for years to breed out of his thoroughbred stock. Pure white and headstrong, Thunderhead is a direct descendant of a renegade stallion that sired a line of untameable horses. Rob takes one look at the colt, and wants him sold, gelded, or worse. But Ken loves Flicka's son, and battles to train him as a racehorse. As father and son face off in love and fury, each refuses to budge. And gentle Nell, long the backbone of the family, cannot help this time. She is facing the first real crisis in her marriage--one that threatens to tear the family apart as much as the standoff over Thunderhead.

I highly recommend this book for adults who love a good, old-fashioned adventure with lots of action and scenery, and lots of good, meaty characterizations. In my view, the book is not appropriate for young children. It can be graphic and scary, but an older child will love the adventure.

I reread "Thunderhead" after a hiatus of forty years, and was surprised that I enjoyed it even more as an adult. I had to wonder how I made it through the parts about Rob and Nell's financial difficulties and rocky marriage when I was a teen-ager, but I know I read them because I can still remember details and characters after all these years.

The first book of the trilogy, "My Friend Flicka" was never a favorite of mine, and the third book, "Green Grass of Wyoming" concentrates more on teen-age romance than horses. But "Thunderhead" is a perfect balance between the story of a boy's difficult coming-of-age and the wilder saga of his horse.

The boy, Ken grows up on a horse ranch in Wyoming during the Great Depression. His mare, Flicka gives birth during a thunderstorm to an ugly white foal that Ken's mother, Nell names 'Goblin.'

Nell has the gift of giving animals their true names, but Ken begs her to come up with something grander for Flicka's colt:

"There was an ache in Nell's heart. She looked at the foal--that stubbornness, the mulish head, that stupidity, trying to nurse on every horse in sight, not knowing his own mother; and its anger--it ran across the corral head down, kicking out with one hind leg--it seemed full of hatred."

Finally, she looks to the sky for inspiration and names the white foal, 'Thunderhead.'

Ken struggles to raise Goblin/Thunderhead as a race horse, but the white colt forges a stranger destiny for himself in the mountains of Wyoming's Neversummer Range, where his grandsire, the savage Albino rules a stolen band of mares.

I was amazed to learn that Mary O'Hara's Wyoming trilogy was a work of fiction. It just seemed so real to me. Now I know that parts of it are strongly autobiographical. In fact, this author published at least three non-fiction, autobiographical works: "Novel-in-the-Making" (1954); "Wyoming Summer" (1963) based on her diary of sixteen years; and an autobiography, published posthumously, "Flicka's Friend" (1982).

Don't listen to anyone who tries to label "Thunderhead" as a work of juvenile fiction. It is much more than that. The birth and death scenes are intensely lyrical, and there is a core of untamed wildness in all scenes away from the ranch and the racetrack. Here is the beauty and the cruelty and the vastness of the American West without the usual stereotypes.

I loved this book and its predecessor, "My Friend Flicka", when I was little and I recently rediscovered and re-read them. Like "National Velvet", the story here goes beyond the wonderful horses and tells the story of a family in turmoil, and a woman (in this case, Nell, Ken's mother) trying to discover who she is and what she wants out of the life she's made with her family. This is a much grittier book than "Flicka", both for the horses and the people who struggle through it, but it is a great tale, beautifully told. I've often thought that some of these family horse books and the strong women in them have influenced a lot of the little girls who read them in ways they may never have noticed.

When I was thirteen years old I carried this book and its sequel with me everywhere I went until they were read. I cherished every page and loved this story of the wild, goblin colt who blossomed into a gorgeous white stallion. This story was beautiful and precious. I wish I could read it for the first time all over again. My Friend Flicka was wonderful, but each book in the trilogy got better and better. When I was thirteen, I absolutely loved these books and still fondly recall reading them in the backseat of my Mom's car as she carted us kids around from activity to the store and home again...

I loved reading these books as a pre-teen, and again as an
adult when I discovered they were written on a ranch next to
the one I lived on in southeast Wyoming. The author uses
real locations and real situations (the crater doesn't
exist except in her imagination, but almost everything else
is true to life), which some might think is a bit intense for
young readers, but I find that children are more than capable
of understanding and enjoying these tales. I must correct the
reviewer who spoke of Anasazi in the books- they never made it
that far north, and I don't remember any references to them
that Mary O'Hara made either. Cheyenne, Arapaho, and Crow
Nations were all represented in this area. Mary O'Hara does a
wonderful job of using her real life experiences to make a
series of books that allow us to share her pioneer life.

Thunderhead is definately a must read! Ken's favorite horse Flicka gives birth to a white colt, it's a throwback, the only white horse on the ranch. And, on top of that, it looks like an ugly goblin and "scrabbles" instead of runs, when Ken wanted it ever so badly to be a champion racehorse. After a long time the horse grows into a beautiful, muscular horse and earns the name Thunderhead. Now the only problem is, his EXTREMELY bad temper and wild spirit. Throughout this book, Ken tries to gain the horses trust, and trains it to become a racehorse. And, you'll have to read the rest of the book to find out what happens. I recommend this book to all readers above 4th or 5th grade!

Exciting, suspenseful, beautiful scenery described by the author.... and a wonderful human-horse bond. I loved this book so much I carried it everywhere with me when I was 14 years old. I couldn't wait to read the next one. I thought this one was even better than the first. Much better than Black Beauty which I thought was dark and sad.

This is a great book and I would recomend it for many people.
Thunderheads mother was Flika, Ken Mclaughtins first filly. Thunderhead was the first white horse born on the Goose Bar Ranch in Wyoming. Thunderhead jumps fences and climbes mountains. He finds a passage way to a valley that Ken later names Valley of the Eagles. This leads to an old albino stailion, Thunderhead gets a few nips and hoof marks before he is able to get out of the valley and return to the ranch. Thunderhead adventually goes back to the valley and kills the albino staillion. He adeopts the mares that the albino had once cared for. Thunderhead retutns home and is caught by Kens dad Captain Mclaughtin. Thunderhead is sceduled to be in a race because he is very fast and powerful. Thunderhead starts the race but looses his themper and bucks his rider off, the jumps a fence. The Goose Bar Ranch already has a stallion, Banner. Ken, knowing he can't keep his horse locks, Thunderhead in the Valley of the Eagles. Anyone who likes horses and is in middle school or above should read this book.

I bought this for a young girl. She has practically memorized it because she enjoyed it so much. Arrived quickly and in great shape.

This is the companion follow up for the beautiful story "My Friend Flicka". Foaled in a wild spring storm, and subsequently named for the dense white, billowing cloud that suggests one, it's a tale not only of a horse, but of of a beloved childhood fading into maturity, which is directed by disappointment, triumph and the acceptance of things "you cannot change" for the boy, Ken; and for his parents, a renewal of hope for their marriage, nearly torn apart as their financially troubled ranch was nearly lost; and through desperate, last ditch "change of direction" from a dream that wasn't coming true - a gut-wrenching decision for the stubborn father, Rob, who must give much of it up after putting most of his life into it - in order to save "any" of it.

The loss of his own first horse, Gypsy, the one whom he had first ridden at West Point in his youth, and on whose bloodline he had pinned his hopes, in a winter blizzard is truly one of the most emotional, heart-rending passages you are likely to read anywhere, one anyone of a certain age can identify with - as life and loss flash past him and the long drawn out howl of a wolf is heard in the distance, adding to his anguish.

But it is also a story about the maturity of the horse, from an ungainly colt to a magnificent, unruly stallion, whose mustang blood runs high in his veins, overpowering the blood of his gentle dam, Flicka. It's unique story line is further aided by glorious descriptions of the mountains and the extinct volcano valley in Colorado where fate leads Thunderhead to his white grandfather, The Albino; of the streams and green grass and rolling hills; sunsets and violent, yet beautiful storms. it is poetry as a story then, not simply the written line.

The book is not just for children, although that was when i first read it too. The adult theme runs throughout, and goes over the head of the child reader. If he returns as an adult to re-read a classic of youth, it is well worth the effort. The story has been copied and simulated many times, without much success, because, after all, "nothing is better than the Original."