'No Snail' - A review of sorts.

​Unlike the majority of racing books I buy and read, David Owen’s ‘No Snail’ is brand spanking new and so there should be no difficulties involved in tracking down a copy.
When I saw the book reviewed in the Racing Post, I knew immediately I had to have it included in my small horse racing library. This was a book, I anticipated holding in my hand, to sit beside Ivor Herbert’s book on Red Rum or Michael Tanner’s book on Spanish Steps. Sadly, ‘No Snail’ falls short of the quality of Ivor Herbert’s mighty tome and is not a patch on Michael Tanner’s love-letter to Spanish Steps.
That is not to say I regret buying ‘No Snail’. Far from it. L’Escargot deserved a book of his life. It was long overdue. And David Owen should be praised for filling a gap in the history of National Hunt racing. His prize-winning book about Foinavon is one of my favourites. Foinavon, too, deserved to be recognised for his contribution to the legacy and history of National Hunt racing and we have David Owen to thank for righting the wrong.
The disappointment, I suspect, is because the anticipation generated by the review in The Racing Post could only be fulfilled by the sort of book Ivor Herbert wrote about Red Rum. It is a comparison most racing books published in our more impoverished days cannot hope to equal. Ivor Herbert’s book started from Red Rum’s birth and meticulously documented his whole career. Herbert’s book on Arkle, was a life’s journey, from birth to death.
David Owen’s book is not a meticulous history of the life of L’Escargot but a long overview of the races he competed in. Little is learned of the in-between days, how he was trained, his character, the people around him on a daily basis. Of course, L’Escargot’s lived long time ago. Red Rum out-lived him, for instance. It would have been an arduous task for the author to find contemporaries of the main players still alive today. I would have liked to have had the Carberry family quoted in the book. After all, they remain racing royalty in Ireland and Tommy must have spoken at length to his famous sons and daughter about L’Escargot and Raymond Guest, the owner of the great horse.
And in achievements, L’Escargot was a great of National Hunt racing. He won two Cheltenham Gold Cups, plus his Grand National victory, the main thrust of this book. He won other races, though little of note and that is why, I believe, his memory has been consigned to history. Kinloch Brae, a good horse of lesser achievements than L’Escargot, has a race run still in memorial of him. As does Captain Christie, I believe. Flyingbolt did not win a Gold Cup or a Grand National and he has a race run in his honour. Though Flyingbolt was without doubt, in his prime, one of the greatest chasers of all-time, the only horse handicapped anywhere close to Arkle. Yet L’Escargot, I believe, is not honoured or remembered similarly. Two Cheltenham Gold Cups and a Grand National – list the horses through time with similar achievements?
David Owen’s book at least begins to right that wrong and we should thank him, as should the descendants of the people whose lives shone more brightly because of what L’Escargot achieved on behalf of their forebears. ‘No Snail’ deserves a place on the shelves of anyone with an interest in either the Grand National or National Hunt racing. And let’s not forget, though David Owen failed to emphasise the point, L’Escargot was competing in Grand Nationals when the quality of some of the opposition was of a higher quality than at any time since. Red Rum is the greatest horse of Aintree and in receipt of weight, it has to be said, L’Escargot emphatically got the better of him. No fluke. No luck. Won on merit.
L'Escargot deserves his legend immortalised in print. I just hope the Guests gave the old horse a grave and a headstone at his death aged 21. He deserved nothing less. Indeed, he deserved so much more.