Black Beauty最新章节_Anna Sewell著

Introduction

IT was shortly after Pearl Harbor and the onset of World War II when my mother noticed I was focusing too heavily on this awful act of war. She decided to sit me and my brother down and began to read us a book; it was Black Beauty . I was six years old and my brother five, and our family was very deeply involved in the horse industry as proprietors of a huge equestrian center. I immediately connected to Black Beauty , which first exposed me to the emotions of the horses that surrounded me. The stage was set for my life to change from that point forward.

Anna Sewell was not a name I had ever heard, nor do I remember hearing it during the four or five nights that it took my mother to read us the only book Anna Sewell ever wrote. Having said this, I can’t state strongly enough how important the name Anna Sewell has become relative to my entire existence. She and her book Black Beauty have proven to be pivotal to my life and career.

Anna Sewell was born in 1820, and, at the age of fourteen, she was disabled following an accident. Thereafter, she could barely walk and was transported everywhere by horse and carriage. This placed her in the position to view hundreds of horses. It was most certainly the sight of horses being handled with force and violence that led her to write from the horse’s tortured perspective.

Anna Sewell’s mother was an author of religious children’s books, but Anna seemed to have one mission in life and allowed Black Beauty to carry her message. Soon after her book was published, she died. One might suggest that this was a way to clear the decks so Black Beauty could stand on its own and bring forward Anna’s message of nonviolence. As we all know, Mother Nature most often gets it right.

As this Introduction is read, I would ask for an open mind and the ultimate realization of what an honor it is for me to be involved with this precious story. As my mother read to me, I was immersed in a life-giving relationship with my first horse, Ginger. As you read Anna Sewell’s novel, note how important the character Ginger is, and attempt to understand the impact Black Beauty had on me.

The life’s mission I have chosen is “to leave the world a better place than I found it for horses and for people, too.” This decision was strongly influenced by the actions of my father, who chose to use extreme violence to train horses, a principle that carried over to me, his firstborn child. I had seventy-two broken bones before puberty. No bones were broken by horses, but each of them by a father who made the choice to use violence to force me to comply with every demand he made.

When I look back on my childhood, it is clear to me that Black Beauty set the example for a certain mind-set that would guide my choices in the future. The book, coupled with my relationship with my first horse, Ginger, proved to be extremely important, preparing me for my experiences with the American mustangs who became my teachers. Their acceptance of my nonviolent training techniques convinced me of the fact that violence is never the answer. It became clear that early circumstances were moving me away from force to achieve my goals.

After about fifty years as a professional trainer of competition horses, my nonviolent methods became quite well-known. Queen Elizabeth II saw and endorsed my work in 1989. My first book was the result of a request made by Her Majesty, who is quite possibly the most famous horse person on the face of the earth. Little was I aware, as my ideas traveled overseas, that the message of Black Beauty had now come full circle back to England.

My education includes two doctorate degrees in behavioral sciences and involves both human and animal behavior. Given these facts, one might label me a pure scientist. This certainly suggests that I could never believe in reincarnation or any idea that would allow acceptance of mystical, imaginary or “airy-fairy” answers to a given subject or group of academic studies.

People often ask me if I use any transcendental elements in the work that I do. My answer is, “No. I am educated in science, and I believe that everything I do has a straightforward scientific answer to it.” Being a stalwart scientist, as I am, means attempting at all times to keep an open mind.

Some people suggest that the actions of individuals of one generation can, in fact, live on within certain individuals of the next generation. The question is, has Anna Sewell’s spirit lived on in the bodies of horse people the world over? Why was I chosen to go on the nonviolent mission that I am following? Did Black Beauty instill in me the need for fair treatment of horses? Was it simply a coincidence that we each had a Ginger in our lives? I am convinced that Anna Sewell and Black Beauty both left an imprint on my soul.

To prepare myself for this writing, I did a survey of my readers on a global basis; one wrote, “Anna Sewell did for horses what Charles Dickens did for poor people.” Another stated, “Who can ever forget Ginger and what ignorance and vanity did to her?” Another response was, “ Black Beauty showed me that horses have incredible levels of forgiveness. What wonderful animals they are!”

On and on these comments continued, echoing similar themes. The strongest thread was how Black Beauty impacted young lives, allowing readers to open their minds to the needs and emotions of horses. Prior to the book’s publication, these wonderful animals were mostly treated without any consideration of those qualities. Anna Sewell and Black Beauty had an influence on this mind-set forever.

To demonstrate the tremendous impact Black Beauty has had on the world, I would like to tell you a story that is current and one that would cause any scientist to pause and take note. Being asked to write this Introduction has caused me to study and think deeply about the obligation to get it right. Through this process, I have felt more like I am fifteen again, instead of the seventy-five years I have actually logged.

Black Beauty tends to make us think young, no matter what our age, because it is the youthful among us who have the power to change. Once we agree on the need for change, we must think as a young person in order to visualize a future that includes a different attitude. It is now that you are hearing from me as a teenager, not as a seventy-five-year-old scientist who feels he has all the answers.

I sat down with my personal assistant, Di Benson, to write this essay and discovered that this young English woman was also affected by Black Beauty at the age of ten. I asked for privacy, cleared my mind and went to work. I had literally written only the first two paragraphs when a voice from the office intercom called out, “MONTY, MONTY! Can you answer the intercom?” “Please,” I said, “I’m working here.”

“Monty, there is a man at the stable; he is with his wife and daughter. He tells us he is eighty-nine years old and his last wish in life is to meet you.” HOLY MOLEY, what was I to do? I was sitting here in exercise clothes dictating, but obviously I had to meet this man. I told them to give me ten minutes. I stopped working and ran down the hall to change clothes, so as to be presentable, which the man would expect.

The car pulled up to the front of the house, and I watched a woman, probably in her eighties, being assisted out of the car by another woman, who was obviously her daughter. The two circled the car and helped a frail man exit and get to his feet. The three of them approached me and the man reached out to invite a handshake. “My name is Dr. Bruce Barr, and I’m here because my last wish is to meet you.”

Dr. Barr then introduced his wife and daughter, and I invited them into my sitting room, where he began to tell me his story. He was incredibly bright and his mind was totally the opposite of his frail body. I sat there feeling terribly guilty as I realized that a few minutes earlier I had been disturbed by the fact that I had to stop work and meet this man. I was now upset with myself for that attitude, and I always will be.

Dr. Barr brought me many precious gifts. One came in the form of stories of his long and successful career as a psychologist, in which he molded psychological concepts for the education of children, a subject near and dear to my heart. Another was total acceptance of my theories, which every professional seeks but never receives often enough. The last of his precious gifts was virtually too coincidental for words.

“We are from San Diego,” he said, “and in 1996 I went to the downtown coliseum. I had been influenced heavily as a child by the fact that human beings are often violent with horses before they are violent with other human beings. I felt compelled to attend a demonstration of nonviolent horse training. I didn’t really know why I wanted so badly to go. Nor did I know what I was about to see.

“The trainer worked with several horses and it was clear that the work was profound, but I remember mostly a white Arabian mare. It was reported that she had never been successfully loaded into a trailer. Professionals had beaten her and attempted all sorts of force. The owner stated that in order to bring her to the event, they’d knocked her out with drugs, at which point she’d fallen onto a tarpaulin and several men had dragged her into the trailer and transported her to the venue.

“It was you,” he said. “You were the trainer I went to see. Sure, you loaded her into the trailer, but it wasn’t until you released her and showed us she would load herself that I felt a flashback to my childhood experience. Fifty years before this night, an incident caused me to realize the extent humans will use harsh, violent and forceful techniques to make horses comply with their wishes.

“You’re a busy man, Mr. Roberts, and I know you are working on an important project; your people at the stable told me what it is, and I now feel like a messenger from a certain lady author.” At this point, we had a conversation about being scientists and not being permitted to follow our emotions or allow for mystical answers to real problems. Then Dr. Barr gave me the final precious gift.

“You see, Mr. Roberts, I was born in 1921. I was the son of a wonderful mother. She was a teacher and had me reading well by the age of three. At four years of age, in 1925, I read a book that eventually took me to a career as a professional creator of educational systems for young people and to you. That book must have subconsciously moved me to attend your event. The book was Black Beauty .”

Well! One might imagine my feelings at this point. My knees were weak, but I managed to stand. He held out his hands as if to request assistance. I responded by helping him to stand. He took me in his arms, and, through tears he said, “You’re young; you have a lot of years to help this world of ours. Please accept a challenge and help the next generation to know the value of being nonviolent.”

What right do I have to feel old? What right do I have to stand on principle as a scientist? Who am I to suggest that some form of reincarnation doesn’t exist? The spirit of Anna Sewell, Black Beauty, Ginger and Merrylegs exists within me, and I now know it. Thanks to one man who dared disturb me, I will be inspired for the rest of my days by Dr. Bruce Barr, and I will endeavor to follow his wishes.

Who among us can say they know this Universe? Who is Mother Nature? Who is God? Who is the organizer of all the rules that guide us as a part of the mosaic of plants and creatures that inhabit this planet of ours? Which individual in our midst can state that our most important message for a successful existence won’t come through the voice of an animal? Even a fictional animal like Black Beauty.

—Monty Roberts