I am always delighted to receive feedback from my
readers, especially when my writings provide fodder to them for further
exploration of the topics I tackle.
A message from a few days ago was from an anonymous
reader who searched my published poetry works beyond what I had shared in my
blog, and found two poems in the medical journal The Lancet dating back to the late 1990s. These are poems about
domestic/conjugal violence as I was involved in research of that socio-medical issue
from a public health and epidemiology angle. The references for these
publications are at the bottom of the page.
So, I took a time travel to the recent years when
the medical profession was actively involved in understanding, healing the
wounds and preventing domestic violence as an epidemic both from the public
health and clinical medicine points of view.
Going back two decades, I recalled a meeting of the
research team (I was the only male scientist on that team) when the
psychologist, equally fluent in literary works, read a passage from D.H.
Lawrence’s 1920 modernist novel “Women in
Love” and lines from the “ She Had
Many Horses” famous 1983 poem by Joy Harjo. It was a moment when poetry and
medicine came together in describing the attitude of the female character in
relationships. And, since the quotes were both about women and horses, I later
learned that the psychologist had grown up on a farm in Maryland.
Our research team had been given a historic and
existential dive into the human relationships through a few literary lines.
Although I recalled the discussion perfectly, I had
to go back and search for these lines as two decades have passed since that
rainy morning in Baltimore.
The passage from D.H. Lawrence’s book was:
"And woman is the same as horses: two wills act in opposition inside
her. With one will she wants to subject herself utterly. With the other she
wants to bolt, and pitch her rider to perdition."
And the lines from Joy Harjo’s poem were:
“She had some horses.
She
had some horses she loved.
She
had some horses she hated.
These
were the same horses.”
…Sometimes it is good to look back and see how one’s
own thinking and interpretation have changed through new life experiences.
The themes of autonomy and disobedience, fear and
resilience, trauma and healing are often central to the association made
between women and horses, and consequently by women regarding horses. The history
of this sensical identity goes back to the beginning of times. Symbolic brides
were often tied to equine themes in Greek mythology. Called Centaurides (female
Centaurs), they were hybrid descendents of Greek gods, represented in paintings
and carvings as half human female and half horse. The core paradigm was about
duality of human nature, similar to Harjo’s poem that they were “the same
horses” – the same duality that has to be accepted and dealt with. The duality
of good and evil. The duality of kind and violent. As such the ending lines of
her poem make us realize that the poem is not about horses – it is about human
nature. Always in Greek mythology, the most famous female centaur, gifted with
exceptional gracefulness was Hylonome in Ovid's Metamorphoses.
After her lover, the centaur Cyllarus, died in battle, she committed suicide.
At this point, I recalled a few photos I had taken
perhaps subconsciously having that mythological and psychological treatise of
the special association between the human female and equine attitudes the lines
from D.H. Laurence’s book masterfully summarise.
Here
are a few examples, all from Arizona where cowboys, cowgirls and their horses
continue the identity of the state as the last frontier of the Wild West.
A. The photo atop the page.
I do not recall the name of the farm. The rider was in the field, riding
bareback. We talked about the farm, the horses and the desert. Then I asked if
I could take a photo – she just hugged her equine alter ego saying:
She never had a saddle -we
understand each other
B. A girl on her horse in the desert.
This was a moment from my weekly outings in the High Desert. I heard hoofs, and
had just enough time to click once. The clouds indicate it was sometime between
July and September, during the monsoon season. I overexposed the print paper to
preserve her identity and enhance the mood of the shot. The capture has themes
of harmony and co-existence between nature, the young girl and her horse.
.jpg)
C. Comfort in external appearance
differences. A horse and a pony showed up as I was
hiking in the desert. I assumed they had found a break in the fence of a farm
miles away. They passed near me, unbothered by my presence and exhibiting
complete happiness in exploring the surroundings. Fences are not for horses,
just as ports are not for ships.
Concluding thoughts
Re-thinking about the research and my poems
published in The Lancet, I found
myself focusing on two names from Greek mythology – Philhippos and Hippodamia.
The first is man’s name which translates as “lover or friend of horses.” The
name has gone through a number of iterations, and the modern version is
Phillip. As for Hippodamia, a mythological woman, it means “she who masters and
tames horses.” Both names reflect the fascination of Ancient Greeks for horses,
but for different reasons.
Philhippos was and remains an aristocratic name. In
Ancient Greece it was a sign of nobility, military power and wealth to own a
horse. But not any horse – it had to reflect that very aristocratic status. In
that sense, “love for horses” meant showing your status-pride and make the
horse an extension of your glory.
Hippodamia in contrast, is a mythical, dangerous and
raw, wild sexuality ridden character. For her, the relationship with the horse
is through her subjugating the chaos a horse has within it. In that sense,
Hippodamia herself has the untamed wildness of the horses in Greek mythology
impersonated in the chaotic nature of Centaurs who were half-horses. Hippodamia
is the anti-thesis of the horses (and Centaurs who were half-horse) wilderness
and chaotic natures, and her raison d’être is to tame, subdue and dominate the
horse. Hippodamia is famous for her wedding day. Her father invited the
Centaurs to the wedding for political reasons. The Centaurs got drunk and tried
to kidnap Hippodamia and other human women. This violent incident was the
reason for a violent battle, called Centauromachy, where the Centaurs were
defended by the human Lapiths.
And this is where I see a link and continuation of
the social issues regarding domestic/conjugal violence and the psychological
explorations of the relationship between horses and women.
Philhippos is
similar to the Centaurs, the half man-half horse mythological creatures. The
chaotic nature of the Centaurs is the result of which part of the creature
reacts to the moment – is it the horse in them that makes them untamed, violent
and pursuing open fields where to run: or is it the man who is able to pass
through the civic and social spheres without creating chaos and peacefully?
Hippodamia takes no chances in guessing what the
horses and the Centaurs are going to do. She minimizes violence and chaos in
them by dominating them. Subjugating them. Hoping that the wild and
unpredictable in them will be tamed.
And that, perhaps, brings us back to why women and
horses still have a unique relationship. But, a fundamental paradox remains: do
horses really want to be domesticated and tamed? Can Hippodamia erase the wild
mustang in them? Will the call of the wild always resonate in the soul of horses
kept within farm fences waiting to be saddled for the next slow ride in the
desert or lush meadows?
Or are horses metaphors for inner emotional and life
experience landscapes that women understand best?
That will require consequent and future musing.
© Vahé A. Kazandjian, 2026
References and Access to my Poems Published in The
Lancet
Title: Wide-eyed and Blue
Author: Vahe A. Kazandjian
Journal: The Lancet (Volume 354, Issue 9172)
Publication date: July 3, 1999
Title: Black-eyed Suzan
Author: Vahe A. Kazandjian
Journal: The Lancet (Volume 352, Issue 9137, Page
1398)
These poems and my scientific papers can be read on Academia.edu
