Reviewed by Richard Toogood

          THE MOON STALLION is, superficially at least, a quaint children’s story about a wild white horse. But it delves into unexpected depths which wholly belie the innocuous nature of its premise and invest the book with power and substance. In so doing it cleverly mirrors the complexity of the beast itself which is demonstrated to be a manifestation of primordial forces which remain active in the Berkshire hills, even in the summer of 1906.

           The book began life as a television serial broadcast by the BBC in 1978. It was written by Brian Hayles, a gifted and versatile scriptwriter who had been active in television since the early 1960s. It was a late addition to a roster of fondly remembered children’s programmes which both the BBC and the various regional franchises of ITV produced with regularity throughout the 1970s, many of which were characterized by mythological overtures. Other series and serials of particular note in this vein include Arthur of the Britons (1972), The Changes (1975) and Children of the Stones (1977).

            It was a common practice for tie in books to accompany television programmes in those pre vcr days but it was not so common for the scriptwriter to undertake the task themselves. Most seem to have balked at the scant remuneration that the work received. But Hayles seems to have been justly proud of his scripts and liked to undertake the novelising of them himself where possible. And THE MOON STALLION benefits from being the product of his own hand in ways it might not have done otherwise.

            The Moon Stallion becomes the focus for a small corpus of well drawn characters that assemble at Coleshill Manor over three days in the early summer of 1906. Foremost among these is Mortenhurze, the stern squire of the estate who seeks to revenge himself upon the horse which he blames for the death of his wife. Then there is Purwell, the genial professor of archaeology, engaged by Mortenhurze to investigate the evidence for a real King Arthur active in the surrounding landscape. Also in attendance is Purwell’s blind daughter Diana, fey and intuitive, destined to be the instrument of Fate in the unfolding drama. And finally there is the sly and surly Todman, Mortenhurze’s stablemaster, who connives with his master in plans to capture the Moon Stallion but who is actually motivated by dark and dangerous ambitions of his own.

          THE MOON STALLION is not a wildly eventful book. Its action is largely restricted to exhilarating gallops across the hills. But this fact simply reflects the budgetary restrictions that the original scripts were produced under, as does the small cast and the centralized location. But the book compensates for the limitations of its scope with narrative depth and richness of erudition. It skilfully draws in aspects of prehistoric belief, ancient Celtic ritual and Arthurian legend in a cohesive and rewarding mix.

           And in a similar vein to Alan Garner’s books it profits also from being grounded in a real and relatable setting; in this case the Vale of the White Horse, dominated as it is by its evocative prehistoric features such as the ancient Ridgeway, the Neolithic tumulus of Wayland’s Smithy and the chalk hill figure of the Uffington White Horse itself. Each of which contributes its own sense of credence to the book’s diversions into superstition and folklore.

           And nowhere is this better exemplified than in the nocturnal encounter between Diana and the Green King (a marvellously visualised creation with its arm “gnarled and mossy, like the bark of an immensely aged tree”) which takes place at a Wayland’s Smithy eerily illuminated by bale-fire, and where Diana is afforded that nightmarish vision of the future which, together with its attendant rumination upon the cyclical nature of human striving, serves to invest a simple children’s fable with resonating profundity.

           The other significant aspect to the book lies in the way in which it eschews simplistic notions of good and evil. The ancient forces which are invoked by Todman’s schemes are shown to be laws unto themselves, self-protective, destructive in nature and largely ambivalent about the purposes of people. It is an ambitious approach for a children’s book.

          THE MOON STALLION is a consummate example of a type of children’s fiction which is seldom written anymore: thoughtful, wordy and celebratory of history and heritage. It remains a recommended and richly rewarding read for anyone – of whatever age – who values imagination without cynicism, education without hectoring and didactics without preachiness.

           Originally issued by the publishing arm of Mirror Group Newspapers it is gratifying to note that THE MOON STALLION was republished in 2014 by Fantom Films. An audio version read by the serial’s star Sarah Sutton also remains available.

            Brian Hayles himself never lived to see The Moon Stallion broadcast. He died suddenly in 1978 at the premature age of only 47. And while the book wasn’t his final completed project few writers could hope for a finer memorial to stand as a testament to their talent.