Quick Take
- Narration: David Rintoul brings scholarly gravity and precise diction to a 4th-century BCE text that holds up remarkably well.
- Themes: Horse-human relationship, trust over compliance, the durability of practical wisdom
- Mood: Quietly authoritative and surprisingly contemporary
- Verdict: Essential for equestrians, rewarding for classicists, and genuinely surprising in how directly it speaks to modern horsemanship.
I was three paragraphs into Xenophon’s Art of Horsemanship before I stopped and checked the publication history, because the advice felt like it could have been recorded yesterday afternoon at a stable in Virginia rather than composed in fourth-century-BCE Athens. Xenophon, soldier and friend of Socrates, writes about approaching a horse from the front to avoid startling it, about the value of a responsive and willing horse over one that obeys through fear, about the importance of reading the animal’s behavior with patience and observation. These are not historical curiosities. They are still the founding principles of modern horsemanship, and hearing them spoken aloud in David Rintoul’s measured, authoritative narration produces a strange double consciousness: you are listening to ancient Greek military strategy and contemporary equestrian wisdom simultaneously.
This production from Ukemi Audiobooks pairs the main treatise with Xenophon’s shorter companion piece, On the Cavalry General, and includes Morris H. Morgan’s 1893 translator’s notes and his extended essay The Greek Riding-Horse. The whole package runs to two hours and forty-five minutes, compact for a classical text with scholarly apparatus.
Our Take on The Art of Horsemanship
Xenophon’s text is practical in the most literal sense. He discusses what physical features to look for when selecting a horse, covering broad chest, wide nostrils, prominent eyes, and flexible knees. He addresses the sound of the hoof as an indicator of foot quality, noting that the ancient Greeks did not shoe their horses. He covers training over different terrains, mounting without stirrups or saddle, and the approach to a potentially frightened animal. None of this is theoretical. Xenophon was a professional cavalry officer who commanded troops in actual combat, and the manual reads accordingly, direct, experienced, and free of abstraction.
What makes it remarkable for a modern listener is not the novelty of the advice but its durability. A reviewer noted that while they are not preparing their horse for war, “there are insights here that still hold true today,” and this understated observation gets at something real about the text. The core principles that Xenophon articulates, building trust rather than compliance, training through reward rather than punishment, understanding the horse’s perspective before issuing demands, are the same principles that contemporary trainers like Tom Dorrance and Ray Hunt developed independently across two and a half millennia of equestrian tradition. The continuity is striking.
Why Listen to The Art of Horsemanship
David Rintoul’s narration is a significant asset here. He is a Scottish actor with extensive classical work on stage and audio, and he brings exactly the gravity and clarity this material requires. Morgan’s 1893 translation has an Edwardian formality that could easily tip into stuffiness in the wrong hands, but Rintoul reads it with a precision that keeps the diction feeling authoritative rather than archaic. He also handles the scholarly footnotes and Morgan’s comparative essay with the same seriousness he brings to the main text, treating the annotations as genuine contributions to the argument rather than as interruptions.
The addition of On the Cavalry General usefully extends the context of the main treatise by shifting from the individual rider’s relationship with a single horse to the strategic management of an entire cavalry force. It is a companion text rather than a sequel, and the contrast in perspective, personal versus institutional, makes both pieces more interesting by juxtaposition.
What to Watch For in The Art of Horsemanship
Two hours and forty-five minutes is genuinely short by audiobook standards, and some listeners will want considerably more. The text is complete but compressed: Xenophon’s manual was never a long work, and even with Morgan’s scholarly apparatus the production remains brief. This is not a criticism of the production but a calibration to set before purchase. Listeners expecting a full-length equestrian history will need to supplement this with other reading.
The military context is present throughout both treatises and cannot be entirely separated from the practical advice. Xenophon was training cavalry horses for use in battle, and some of his recommendations, for speed and maneuverability under pressure, for behaviors that would function in chaotic combat conditions, are specific to that context rather than universal equestrian principles. Most of what he says translates clearly to modern riding, but the occasional martial specificity is worth noting.
Who Should Listen to The Art of Horsemanship
Horse people will find this essential, not because it contains information they cannot find elsewhere, but because the historical depth it adds to contemporary practice is quietly transformative. If you have spent time working with horses and someone hands you Xenophon’s observations about patience and trust, you recognise the truth of it immediately and from the inside. Classical literature readers who appreciate primary texts in translation will find Morgan’s edition carefully done. And anyone curious about what ancient Greek soldiers thought about the animals that carried them into battle will find Xenophon a sharp and unexpectedly accessible guide.
Frequently Asked Questions
Do you need to be a rider or horse owner to get value from this audiobook?
Not necessarily. The practical advice is most resonant for people with direct equestrian experience, but the historical and philosophical dimensions of the text are accessible to any curious listener. Xenophon’s writing is clear and his observations are specific enough to be engaging even without personal context.
How readable is Morris Morgan’s 1893 translation when heard rather than read?
Rintoul’s narration makes the Victorian diction work very well. The formality is present but not obstructive, and Rintoul’s pacing allows the slightly longer sentences of the period to resolve clearly rather than becoming tangled. Several reviewers noted the translation’s accessibility despite its age.
Does the production include both The Art of Horsemanship and On the Cavalry General, or just the main treatise?
Both are included, along with Morgan’s translator’s notes and his essay The Greek Riding-Horse. The full package is approximately two hours and forty-five minutes, making it a complete scholarly edition rather than just the main text.
How does Xenophon’s advice compare to modern natural horsemanship methods like those of Tom Dorrance or Pat Parelli?
The correspondence is striking. Xenophon emphasises building trust over imposing compliance, reading the horse’s signals, and training through positive reinforcement rather than fear. These are the same foundational principles articulated by Dorrance and others twenty-five centuries later. The convergence suggests these principles reflect something real about horse psychology rather than being culturally specific.
