I vividly remember the first time I saw this book, A Very Young Dancer. It was a rainy October afternoon and I must have been about ten years old. I pulled it off the shelf in the Bookmobile, which was parked in its customary spot in the far corner of the Save-Easy lot, and sat right down on the floor of the bus there and then and read it all the way through. I didn't take it out, though. While it did make me yearn for a life of serious purpose and beauty -- and of course the applause of an appreciative audience in a fancy theatre -- I knew that ballet wasn't for me. I was already too old to ever learn it properly. And even at that age I had an inkling that I had the wrong body type. (It wasn't until I reached adulthood that I realized I'm a total klutz anyway.) But it was a captivating, mesmerizing book of photography and it cast a spell on a lot of little girls who started ballet lessons in the 70s and 80s. The book catapulted its subject, the young ballerina Stephanie, into instant fame. That fame made things difficult for her when, at the age of 13, she was asked to leave the School of American Ballet. She has only now, at the age of 46, come to terms with it. Via A Cup of Jo.
Incidentally, Jill Krementz, is Kurt Vonnegut's widow, and she published a whole series of these A Very Young Whatever books. What happened to the rest of them?
Stephanie's story reminds me -- just a little -- of Emma Ridley's. Ridley played Ozma in Return to Oz, a movie that has been in constant rotation in this house, as the kids are fascinated with all things Oz. I knew that Fairuza Balk, who played Dorothy in it, continues to work as an actor as an adult but I wondered about Emma, who is startlingly beautiful in the film. Apparently she was a fixture on the London nightclub scene for six months in her early teens in the 80s, stripping on tables while carrying a teddy bear. She married a much older man at the age of 15 and then disappeared. She now lives on a farm in California with her two children, is an evangelical Christian like Stephanie, and has a dance fitness business.
Luke and Sylvie are loving everything about this. If I could perform a dance routine like that, I believe my life might just be complete. (I have been fantasizing about putting my children in dance classes. Never mind that old saying, "Those who can't, teach." It should be, "Those who can't, have children. And then pay somebody else to teach them.")
Luke started preschool this morning and it was all very traumatic -- for me. When I noticed the other parents in the parking lot staring at me as I skulked in the shrubbery outside the classroom windows, attempting to peer in, I decided to go home and wait it out. During breakfast Luke had announced out of nowhere that he didn't intend to cry, and he didn't, although I noticed his lip quivering as I left. When I got home I passed the time wandering around the house aimlessly, peering into empty rooms and sighing, my cellphone in one hand and the regular phone in the other. Just in case they called. So much for using that time wisely. I'll have to do better next week. Note: Must organize self as much as I have organized Luke.
This worry was in the back of my mind as I read this article* about the movie adaptation of Noel Streatfeild's Ballet Shoes-- and how the book is more about feminism, self-realization, determination, and discipline than ballet. I realized that the children's schedule in the book has, since childhood, served as my model of a wise use of time. I can remember planning a schedule for my Mandy and Jenny dolls similar to theirs:
The Fossils became some of the busiest children in London. They got up at half-past seven and had breakfast at eight. After breakfast they did exercises with Theo for half an hour. At nine they began lessons. Posy did two hours reading, writing, and kindergarten work with Sylvia, and Pauline and Petrova did three hours with Doctor Jakes and Doctor Smith. They were very interesting lessons but terribly hard work; for if Doctor Smith was teaching Pauline, Doctor Jakes taught Petrova and the other way on, and as both doctors had spent their lives coaching people for terribly stiff examinations -- though of course they taught quite easy things to the children -- they never got the idea out of their heads that a stiff examination was a thing everybody had to pass some day. There was a little break of ten minutes in the morning when milk and biscuits were brought in; but after a day or two they were never eaten or drunk. Both doctors had lovely ideas about the sort of things to have in the middle of lessons -- a meal they called a beaver... At twelve o'clock they went for a walk with Nana or Sylvia. They liked it best when Sylvia took them. She had better ideas about walks; she thought the park the best place to go to, and thought it a good idea to take hoops and things to play with. Nana liked a nice clean walk up as far as the Victoria and Albert and back. On wet days Sylvia thought it a good plan to stay in and make toffee or be read out loud to. Nana thought nicely brought up children ought to be out of the house between twelve and one, even on a wet day, and she took them to see the dolls' houses in the Victoria and Albert. The children liked the dolls' houses; but there are a lot of wet days in winter, and they saw them a good deal. Pauline and Petrova had lunch with Sylvia, Posy had hers with Nana. After lunch they all had to take a book on their beds for half an hour. In the afternoons there was another walk, this one always with Nana. It lasted an hour, and as they had usually walked to the Victoria and Albert in the morning, they did not have to go there again, but took turns to choose where they went. Pauline liked walking where there were shops. Petrova liked the Earl's Court Road, because there were three motor showrooms for her to look at. Posy liked to go toward the King's Road, Chelsea, because on the way they passed a shop that sold puppies. They all liked Posy's walk; but they did not choose it themselves because they knew she would. If Nana was not so sure that they must save the penny and walk , they would have gone to much more exciting places; for you can't get far on your legs when there is only an hour, and that includes getting home again. Tea was in the nursery at a quarter to four, and at half-past they all went by the Piccadilly railway to Russell Square... As soon as they got to the Academy they went down to the changing-room. There they shared a locker in which their rompers and practice-frocks and shoes were kept. Their rompers were royal blue with C.A. for Children's Academy embroidered on the pockets. They wore their rompers for the first half-hour, and with them white socks and black patent-leather ankle-strapped shoes. In these clothes they did exercises and a little dancing which was known as "character," and twice a week they worked at tap dancing. At the end of half an hour they hung towels round their necks (for they were supposed to get so hot they would need a wipe down) and went back to the changing-room and put on their white tarlatan practice-frocks. These were like overalls with no join down the back; the bodice had hooks and the frills of the skirt wrapped over and clipped. With this they wore white socks and white kid slippers. The work they did in these dresses they found dull and it made their legs ache... They got home at half-past six and Posy went straight to bed. Sylvia read to the other two for twenty minutes and then Petrova had to go up, and at seven, Pauline. The lights were out at half-past and there was no more talking. On Saturday mornings they worked from ten to one at the Academy. As well as special exercise classes and the ordinary dancing classes, there was singing, and one hour's acting class. They wore...
Weird how, of all the passages from children's literature, this extremely prosaic one really made an impression.
For the die-hard Ballet Shoes fans out there, here's the trailer for the movie:
The adult Lauren Thomas dances along with video of her four-year-old self dancing to "Hip to Be Square."
Luke loves to dance along to video of himself dancing. But the age difference is much less striking. Right now. Here is a thought: if you think your child might apply to art school, immediately start videotaping him or her dancing to "Dancing With Myself" on every birthday. One of the projects will already be complete when your kid decides to take a year off before college to "work on his portfolio."
Via The Rag and Bone Blog and Youngme / Nowme.
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-- and how the book is more about feminism, self-realization, determination, and discipline than ballet. I realized that the children's schedule in the book has, since childhood, served as my model of a wise use of time. I can remember planning a schedule for my