Twelve is the story of that love, that companionship, the story of a writer and a horse, each of whom values not just the spirit of independence but also the land and all that live upon it. There are no flowery phrases, no sentimental dribble, no violent outbursts at mankind and the government, just simple declarative sentences that carry within them the power of love and life. Although it may have seemed that Blake was Twelve's protector, rescuing him from a government concentration camp, the truth is that Twelve, as he was for so many wild horses, was probably Blake's protector, a constant in a life that itself underwent so much turmoil.
Twelve died Sept. 7, 2005. Michael Blake visits his grave almost every day, "driven not so much by grief as a sense of honor."
The beauty and quality of production of the Perceval Press book, something not often seen in contemporary book publishing, complements Blake's words and photos to make Twelve a powerful statement by one of America's best writers about the value of life and the environment.
--WALTER M. BRASCH
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