Pony by R.J.Palacio

UK paperback

‘People see the world they believe in. And you see the world they believe in.’  (p 85)


The Wonder that is Wonder

R. J. Palacio’s Wonder is a major phenomenon of contemporary children’s fiction. When published ten years ago it was an international success. It has remained hugely popular ever since, selling copies in the multi-millions and held in deep affection by a broad spectrum of readers. 

Over recent years there have been many novels dealing with children’s issues, physical, mental and emotional, and the best are outstanding books, playing an important part in promoting understanding and developing empathy. But Wonder is undoubtedly an archetype. Perhaps it is because the courage, resilience and humour of Aggie, a boy who has to live with severe genetic facial distortion, is so deeply moving. However it is also because the simple but effective writing of its author not only communicates the thoughts and feelings of Auggie himself, but also opens for readers the impact his life has on others around him. R. J. Placio has a genius for getting into the minds of young people and a deep, compassionate understanding of the issues she explores. Yet she does this with a light, readable touch that is truly exceptional.

And now Pony

In the intervening period she has written a number of spin-offs from Wonder, understandably so, as her many readers were clamouring for more of the same. These books too have turned out to be most valuable additions to the children’s shelves, both entertaining and enriching, However, in 2021 she published a new and completely different book, Pony, and thankfully this had just come out in paperback here in the UK..

And completely different is no understatement. Were it not for the name and the references on the cover, I do not think I would have recognised Pony and Wonder as being by the same author, at least initially. However, this statement is not intended to the detriment of either book. Indeed, whilst Wonder is a deservedly popular, emotional read,  Pony is an outstanding, more literary, novel.

Two worlds, one world

The story of Pony has a historical setting in the American West of the 1800s. It is a gripping tale of a father’s kidnap and a son’s courageous journey to rescue him, of desperate counterfeiters and dedicated lawmen, of dramatic shootouts and of hidden loot. For young protagonist, Silas, it is a long journey through deep forest, for part of the time accompanied by a highly taciturn and cantankerous old Marshal, later by a young Sheriff and his sarcastic Deputy, and always by his loyal mount, named simply, Pony. Within this frame is developed the classic children’s fiction trope of a young person’s journey towards discovery of themselves and their true family. However, the setting here is so different and compelling that, even if this were all there were to the novel, Pony would be a very fine book. 

Yet Pony is far more than this. Silas, a boy physically scarred by an earlier lightning strike, sees and talks to ghosts. Indeed, the constant close companion and interlocutor of all his years to date has been the ‘apparition’ of a slightly older youth he calls Mittenwool. The few adults who are aware of this dismiss Mittenwool as an imaginary friend, but this is open to question for much of the book as it becomes clear that Silas is aware of a number of other spirits too. 

This blending of historical setting and apparent fantasy is surprising, even shocking. The intrusion of Silas’s paranormal perception disrupts the classic Western movie scenario, forces the reader into awareness that this something other than a straightforward narrative: it expands the novel’s  ‘reality’ to embrace more than the physical world.

Silas’s particularly sensitive character is very cleverly drawn, and emerges subtly, but most affectingly,  as the story unfolds. There is depth and much tenderness too in his gradually revealed relationship with his father, and indeed with the other principal adults he meets on his journey. Silas’s world, and his relationships, extend beyond the tangible, beyond the here and now.

‘ . . . The feeling I had while riding. A feeling like I had done this before, like I had dreamed this once upon a time. Something familiar in the colour of the light maybe. In the sound of the hooves trampling the earth.’ (Silas, p 138)

And later,

‘Half my face was smeared with dried blood . . . I remember thinking: My face, half red, for I live half in this world and half in the next.’ (p 220)

Multi-levelled

Without once sacrificing the cohesion of a fine novel, Pony is a something-for-everyone book. For the seekers of high excitement, there are horseback chases and gunfights worthy of any Hollywood Western. For fans of mystery, there is the compelling intrigue of the true identity of Silas’s father., as well as other perplexing issues, including the actuality or otherwise of the  ‘ghost’ Mittenwool himself, and an old violin, obsessively carried around by Silas, but never played. For those many whose emotions are engaged by animals, there is the eponymous Pony, completely dedicated to Silas and with almost magical abilities, as well as a loyal mutt of a dog. For those aware of archetypal resonance, there is a journey into a dark, forbidding forest that is worthy of any ancient legend. For the Romantics, there is warm, Dickensian resolution of fortunes and relationships. For the academically minded, there is an overarching metaphor that sees Silas’s journey to find his father in the story of Telemachus, pointed in quotation, as well as in narrative allusion. For those concerned with the world and society we live in, there are important messages about the appalling atrocities inflicted on Indigenous peoples by white colonists. It also points up the courage and conviction of individuals prepared to go to great lengths to combat the grotesque practice of slavery.

Pony is a potpourri of ideas, cleverly linked into coherent whole. It is even more clever when the link between ideas and people is what story is really about.  Here the wonder of early photographic images, caught both as a key element of the narrative and in the reproductions used as chapter openers, reflects and refracts the lingering of dead spirits as ‘ghosts’ from the past. In this we are getting close, I think, to the heart of this book. Ultimately, this is not simply an adventure in the historic American West. Nor is it a simply a ghost story. It is a thoughtful novel about connections, connections between the living, but especially between the living and the dead. It is  not specifically religious, nor even spiritualist, but it is deeply spiritual, humane and compassionate. It explores the way we keep the dead with us and take them into our lives. It is a richly comforting book.

‘The connections that bind us are astounding, as I’ve noticed. The invisible threads weave in and around us, and tug us in places and at times that we may not see, or that only make sense over time. This is what I have found.’ (Silas, p 249)

So differently the same

After starting off thinking this new book felt very different from its predecessors, by the end the author’s signature hand, or at least her heart, was unmistakable. Here, after all, is the same understanding, the same deep humanity, that R. J. Placido has always shown in her writing. But it is now expressed with a refinement, a subtlety that is more reflective, more poetic if you like, but no less rich, and, ultimately, perhaps even more affecting. It is essentially the same wonder, but extended beyond the present.

‘The fathers and the mothers and the ghosts, the living and the dead, spinning butterflies out of thin air. Holding them gently in their hands, for as long as they can. Not forever, but infinitely. Beckoning the wondrous. But never for themselves. Just for us. If only for a little while. It’s not the fantasy of it, but the trying of it that matters.’ (p 186)

I cannot think that Pony will garner quite the mega popularity of Wonder.  However, I do hope that many readers of that earlier book will be encouraged to try this one. Children will find a different, but thoroughly engaging, life-enriching story. Others will discover a very fine work of fiction, one that demonstrates how a children’s book can be a true work of literature, in the hands of a great writer. 

Hardback edition

R.J.Palacio, like C.P. Cavafy, in his poem, gently reminds us that the gift of Ithaca is a journey, not an arrival.