| Title | : | Dancer |
| Author | : | |
| Rating | : | |
| ISBN | : | 0312423187 |
| ISBN-10 | : | 9780312423186 |
| Language | : | English |
| Format Type | : | Paperback |
| Number of Pages | : | 336 |
| Publication | : | First published January 6, 2003 |
| Awards | : | Bord Gáis Energy Irish Book Award Hughes & Hughes Irish Novel of the Year (2004) |
Dancer Reviews
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UPDATE: $2.99 kindle special today!
This is my personal favorite Colum McCann book.
I absolutely loved watching Rudolf Nureyev dance - mesmerized by his strength, grace, and talent -
AND...
I found this book sooooo wonderful!
The storytelling was totally captivating. If you’re a dance fan... my god - you’ll love this book. If a ‘saga’ fan... you’ll love just learning about the world a great ballet dancer lived in.
Old review:
“Dancer"......by Colum McCann is a breathtaking tribute the Russian Ballet dancer, Rudolf Nureyev...... I mean BREATHTAKING!!!!!
This book is a novel, yet Colum McCann took his inspiration from biographical facts from Rudolf's life.
WOW.... and what a story!!! Captivating....spanning over four decades.
The lyrically powerful prose is seductive....intimate....bigger than life...."dazzling"!!!!
Right from the start when 'Rudik' was a child in the Soviet Union ( 1941-1956)...we are transported back to the horrors of war. Injured soldiers were being cared for by women. Children have come to entertain their Russian Folk dance.
A soldier with an amputated leg on crutches from tree branches caught Rudik's fascination. His mother couldn't afford carpet in his house.... so between the two, we see a 7 year old's imagination at work. He started spinning on one foot on his own wood floor in his own house.
I thought of 'ALL THE PARENTS' who had these type of determined kids. At an early age, something stands out about their child....a PASSION - 'very young'. Rudolf was one of them.
Years later ....
A night on stage in London.... still only in in 20's:
"Rudi's body was a thing of the most captivating beauty--hard lines at his shoulders, his neck striated with muscle, enormous thighs, his calf muscles twitching. He took his partner in the air and spun her with remarkable lightness".
Part of a letter to his sister, Tamara, back home in Leningrad ( 1961 -1964)
"You choose to say my life is a circus now. Nothing is simple, Tamara, not even your attempts at simplification. Why did I do it? It was never my intention to leave. I could have stayed, but if you tread water long enough it is possible you might never learn to swim. I meant nothing by it. Politics is for fat men with cigars. It is not for me. I am a dancer. I live to dance. That is all".
In the way that I passionately love author Amor Towles writing .... Colum McCann, too, writes floating novels. Every sentence is exhilarating!!!
"Poverty lust sickness envy hope" -
4.5 stars
I waited until I finished reading this to watch him dance or to hear his voice in an interview. I wanted to see whether McCann had given us something of the real Rudolf Nureyev. What McCann does is give us beautiful language, visceral descriptions of war, descriptions that take you to the place in Russia where Rudolf Nureyev was raised, where he first danced, to the cities where he lived and danced, to the social circles of celebrity where he navigated, to his personal life style of jaw dropping opulence when he had achieved such fame, and to the gay haunts of New York City where there are no holds are barred on what happens here, to the man on the stage with only the dance. I never quite felt connected to him, except when I read about him as a 6 year old boy dancing for wounded soldiers at a hospital in Russia or read his lists of things to do. I almost always felt like a spectator watching the dance, his life. Ironically, I felt more connected to those characters real or imagined who in large part tell his story as well as their own when Rudi was with them and the affect he had on their lives when he defects. It was like watching the corps de ballet dancing around the main dancer.
I found the narrative structure fascinating with these multiple points of view and I was interested in their stories as well - Anna, his first ballet teacher and her husband Sergei, their daughter Yulia, Rudi’s sister Tamara. I loved Tom, the shoemaker and found the description of how he made the ballet shoes absolutely fascinating and I loved Odile, cook and loyal assistant. I was heartbroken for Victor, even though one of the chapters devoted to him was so sexually explicit that I cringed while reading it. Yet, the gay scene in New York was a part of Rudi’s life so while it made me uncomfortable, it has to be here if we’re to get a picture of who he was.
I am enamored with McCann’s writing, so many perfect phrases. I can’t help but share a few quotes:
“The trains made their way slowly across the trussed bridge, a quarter of a kilometer long, the steel giving out thuds and high pings under the stress of the bridge as if mourning in advance.”
“Vendors solemnly rearranged the emptiness of their kiosks.”
“Birch trees stand in armies along the ice-covered road.”
“Once we filled each other with desire, not remembrance.”
“The real beauty in life is that beauty can sometimes occur.”
Rudi doesn’t for the most part come across as a character to love, yet there are softer moments that shine through among the temper tantrums, the selfish behavior, and chaotic life - his love of Margot Fonteyn and the generosity they showed each other on the stage, his love for his mother, and the genuine friendship with Victor’s character, by wanting to insure that Victor was cared for in his last days. Who was Rudolf Nureyev really ? Maybe the answer is from a letter in the novel to his sister Tamara : “I am a dancer, I live to dance. That is all.”
I found this wonderful interview with McCann in which he discusses the book, his inspiration for writing it, his research. I love how he reflects on storytelling and fiction. An interview worth reading, even if you don’t read the book.
http://colummccann.com/interviews/dan... . Now I have read all of McCann’s books. Hoping for another and another. -
4.5 stars
“Of course he danced perfectly, light and quick, pliant, his line controlled and composed, but more than that he was using something beyond his body—not just his face, his fingers, his long neck, his hips, but something intangible, beyond thought, some kinetic fury and spirit—and I felt a little hatred for him when the applause rang out.”
I’ve been fantasizing about Rudolf Nureyev on and off for days since finishing this novel. Not just because of the stunning images I found afterwards, but also due to the very visual and sensuous nature of McCann’s writing. How I wish I could buy tickets and head to the ballet this weekend.
“His face against her thigh, her hip, her stomach. Both of them burning away, they are one movement, a body nation.”
This is the story of an artist’s life, his drive, and the people with whom he interacted. It begins with Nureyev as a young boy and follows him straight to his death. McCann doesn’t simply tell his story in a traditional narrative arc or structure. For the most part, we learn about him through the eyes of those who knew him. There are several voices that alternate throughout the text. Very rarely do we hear Rudi’s voice itself. At first, I thought this was going to be a bit of a disappointment. As if I would never really learn about the legend himself. Not to worry, as McCann is a master at connecting the multiple voices and threads together to make one cohesive picture. I understood so much of Nureyev as a person, that when I later watched the trailer for The White Crow, a film based on his life, I found myself thinking that there is no way this could satisfy me. No actor could channel Nureyev’s energy, passion, charm, sensuality, and je ne sais quoi. I find myself googling documentaries of him constantly!
“It struck me then that Rudik’s genius was in allowing his body to say things that he couldn’t otherwise express.”
I’m not an artist or a performer of any sort. That doesn’t matter. I still get it. I understand why someone is driven to expose a piece of their soul and share it with others in some form of expression or another. Some are just better at it than others. The rest of us just keep it locked up inside, only letting slip little portions of it here and there when we let our guard down. It fascinates me that this man who grew up in an oppressed regime was able to defect and lead a life of excess and wild abandon. Freedom! It seems Nureyev took it and profited from it fully. Yet, with this freedom, so much of his life was a public one. What does that take away from a person? I really don’t know. But I’m assuming it has to result in sacrifice. Not just due to the hard work and the toll on the body, but something of one’s inner life.
I’ve been talking about this book for days with my friends and family. Without a doubt, this left a lasting impression on me. It’s also had me running to see if I can get my hands on a particular documentary that looks extremely well done. Therefore, despite a couple of quibbles with some of the narrative styles, I can’t help but declare this as a very fine start to my reading year. The prose is exquisite and the subject matter consuming!
“I suppose one finally learns, after much searching, that we really only belong to ourselves.” -
February is that tricky month of winter dragging on and juggling books in the shortest month of the year. One book that almost fell by the wayside is Colum McCann’s Dancer. A little over a year ago I read a short essay by McCann giving his advice to young writers just starting out. I could see that he could flat out write, seeing that he has won a National Book Award for his work. Yet, with a short month, there is always that time constraint in the back of my mind. Recently, a Goodreads friend Tracey reviewed another of McCann’s books Zoli, and that clinched the deal for me, as Tracey also says that McCann can flat out write. Always appreciative of quality literary fiction, I embarked on my first McCann novel.
Dancer presents the life of famed Russian soloist Rudolf Nureyev. Nureyev hailed from the town of Ufa and is an example of a rags to riches story during the communist years. Living in poverty with an alcoholic father and a doting mother who could do little to support her family, young Rudi nearly fell through the cracks. His sole means of reaching the outside world was listening on the family’s wireless, the one item his mother did not pawn for kindling or food. Rudi loved to listen to Tchaikovsky even from a young age. He was mesmerized by the music of The Nutcracker and Swan Lake and dreamed of dancing. In school he was not the best of students as his mind was on dance. While they did not enjoy the best of relationships later in life, Rudi’s sister Tamara saw her brother’s love for dance and brought him books on the subject. Hiding these books and subsequent lessons from Anna Vasilevna from his father, Rudik started down the path toward greatness, and it was apparent by all from the time he was young that he was a going to be one of the great ones.
McCann presents his story in many voices, each giving their perspective on the Rudi they knew over the years. Celebrities Margot Fonteyn, Erick Bruhn, Truman Capote, and President Kennedy are mentioned; at his height, Nureyev was as famous and good looking as the Beatles. Yet, the story is told not by the famous but by Rudi’s sister, his teacher’s daughter, his housekeeper, his lover, and Rudi himself. While Nureyev thirsted to be the best in the world at what he did in a career spanning decades and amassing great wealth, at his core he was a Tartar from Ufa who desired to please his mother. After crossing the Iron Curtain, Nureyev was a wanted man in the Soviet Union. Should he return, he would be sentenced to seven years hard labor. The government made an example of him as all he desired was dance, and dance he did all over the world. The contrast is striking as Yulia and Tamara lived lives dictated by the government, in officially assigned housing, often having little money for food or electricity. If Nureyev had chosen the Bolshoi Ballet over his life in the west, he might have been a preferred citizen in the Soviet Union, but he would have lived a life much similar to those who stayed behind in the communist regime that he renounced.
The prose exhibits McCann as a premier writer although this was one of his earlier novels. He switches voices and tenses seamlessly so that scenes jump from one character to another in what could be a complete departure from the previous passages. The sections depicting Nureyev on stage are as steamy as the dances themselves and all that is missing is the music and dancers. How I would have loved to know in advance what performances McCann described so I could have listened to the soundtrack of the ballet along with my reading. Lately, when I read a book featuring a dancer or composer, I find myself craving the music being described in the prose. Perhaps, offering a musical accompaniment is the future of reading. Here, it would have been a telling addition to mature prose that read as steamily as the relationship between leading ballet dancers.
Next month my daughter has tickets to see a ballet as an early birthday present. She is giddy with excitement to see the dance. I can only imagine what crazed fans felt at the prospect of seeing Nureyev dance with every fiber of his being at the height of his career. Colum McCann paints a telling picture of his life with his exquisite prose. I look forward to reading his other novels, and I am glad I had the push to get finally get started.
4 stars -
This book is a fictional biography about the Russian ballet dancer, Rudolf Nureyev, and my first time reading Irish writer Colum McCann.
As a result, I've had this extraordinarily gorgeous man dancing through my thoughts this week, as I journeyed through Colum McCann's book.
It's a true rags to riches story, a boy born into abject poverty in 1930s communist Russia. A boy who has the desire and the instinct to dance, and through the help from some friends, rises to superstar status. Because of his talent, because of his beauty, and also because of his charismatic personality that seems to draw people, even years after his death.
The first thing I noticed about the book is its structure. It starts as a competently written, rather ho-hum historical fiction, with every section told from a new point of view, a new first person narrator. To be honest, I found it a bit taxing to figure out who this new "I" was, at regular intervals. Maybe this speaks to my laziness as a reader, but I felt like I was trudging uphill until at last the identity of each new speaker is revealed.
As it goes on, the narrative style changes. For over half the book, as I mentioned, it's very traditionally told through numerous first person narrators. We hear almost nothing from Nureyev's point of view during this time. Then, suddenly, he appears (a welcome apparition for me, to be sure) along with the remarkable Margot Fonteyn, a British ballerina who, 20 years his senior, would delay retirement and become his beloved dance partner for many years. But here, McCann had me squinting in a bit of annoyance. Margot's section is told in 3rd person, a strange departure, and the only narrator to have this distinction. Why? Then comes a section told by Victor, a flamboyant hustler/designer and friend of Nureyev. His section, all forty wild pages of it, has nary a period.
It's like the person who wrote the first half of the book isn't the same person who wrote the latter half. The two parts barely resemble one another, except for their subject matter.
You could wonder if this was intentional on the part of the author. Whether he became more and more unconventional and experimental as Nureyev blossomed into the full strength of his individuality and artistry. There's no way of knowing, of course, but my inclination is to say no, this uneven tone/delivery can't possibly be intentional. Why purposefully make the first half cold and unremarkable, and the second half a joyously uninhibited surprise?
That said, I have to say, I tore through it, intrigued by the almost magical trajectory of Nureyev's life. His ascent in the dancing world was only possible because of his defection from Russia, which took him into the orbit of people like Andy Warhol, Mick Jagger, and countless other celebrities and artists. He lived all over the world, including New York, in the Dakota building where he was neighbours with John Lennon and Yoko Ono. He was wealthy and on top of the world - but the one thing denied to him was his family, back in Russia, who in stark contrast, lived in painful, fearful poverty, and who had to publicly denounce him in order to survive.
Despite my misgivings with its form, I'm thrilled that I read this. I was enriched by the artistry of the author, and even more so, by his subject.
3.5 (rounded up because, Rudolf Nureyev)
Nureyev and his on/off dancer boyfriend of 25 years, Erik Bruhn
Nureyev and his long time dancing partner, Margot Fonteyn
A public love affair....
A singular determination....
These photos, I'm sure you'll agree, are marvellous. But photos only say so much. Here is the dancer in all his glory:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qG7Jv... -
" This is not a biography, it's a story, a novel, a tale. For a long time I toyed with the idea of calling it a false portrait" Taken from Colum McCann's interview online.
This is the story of the life of Russian Dancer Rudolf Nureyev and the people that surrounded him and for me it was the surrounding characters that took centre stage in this superbly written novel.
I have read a few of McCann's novels some I have liked better than others but this story from the first chapter where Russian Soldiers returning from the Eastern front after World War II are entertained by the young Nureyev had me hooked.
I am not a fan of Ballet and knew very little about the life of Nureyev and really had little interest in this book until I saw it was available in Whisper sync and I really love reading and listening to a book especially I want the correct pronunciation of foreign names people and places. The audio book for Dancer is excellent with different narrators for different characters and I didn't find it at all confusing switching between characters. McCann weaves his magic and tells an astonishing and quite believable story. The characters themselves are so wide and varied and the story is told from their viewpoints which makes this book so compelling.
While I was quite interested in the story of Rudof, I was fascinated by the story of those he left behind in Russia and in life in general as it was through their voices we hear the real story. I am not sure I would have liked or cared for the dancer himself but I certainly appreciate his art and how hard he worked for the love of dance.
There were times in the story when I didn't care for the scenes of sex or drugs and readers may not like this aspect of the story but I do understand that it belonged in the book.
There is so much about this book that I loved, Colum McCann is a passionate writer and few authors match his insight, attention to detail and searing prose.
This powerful story will loiter in my mind and already I have played wonderful You Tube videos of Interviews and ballet performances by by Rudolf and his partner Margot Fonten.
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Dancer is a highly imaginative work of fiction that captured the life of Rudolf Nureyev, a Russian peasant who became the world’s most celebrated male ballet dancer in the twentieth century. Published in 2003, McCann’s third novel commemorated the tenth anniversary of Nureyev’s death.
It is easy to be mesmerized by a story of an impoverished but talented child who, against all odds, rose to stardom and world renown. Yet, what McCann succeeded most in doing was creating in Nureyev (a.k.a Rudi or Rudik) a full flesh-and-blood character who is raw and real, admirable but also unapologetically detestable in many ways. Rudi’s story is a kaleidoscopic narrative told by a large cast of individuals who know him in some intimate way. We see Rudi from the perspectives of his sister, his first Ufa dance teacher’s daughter, his closest dance partner Margot Fonteyn, his various gay lovers, and even his London shoe maker. We also hear Rudi’s own voice which let us into his interior life. What emerged is a picture of a ferocious talent, extraordinarily gifted, supremely driven, unpredictably volatile, recklessly wild, inwardly insecure (often needlessly feeling like an imposter), fiendishly selfish, and incredibly lonely.
I experienced a vicarious thrill following Rudi’s growth as a dancer.
McCann’s writing is brilliant for its strong characterization and vivid portrayal of time and place. Each of the narrators (some real, others imagined) came alive with their own dreams and struggles even whilst Rudi’s aspirations took center stage. The poverty of life in the Soviet Union in the 1950s was contrasted with the excesses and notoriety of Rudi’s life in Europe and other parts of the western world. McCann wrote a fluid prose that was a joy to read.
I simply had to watch a few clips of this legendary dancer on Youtube. There is a breathtaking recording of the Swan Lake featuring Rudi Nureyev with Margot Fonteyn. Nureyev’s love for dance leapt off the screen. That ‘he danced to live and lived to dance’ became very apparent. I can only imagine how much more magnetic and enthralling it must have been to watch him dance live.
Read Dancer. It is ‘a monumental story of love, art, and exile.’ -
4+ stars. In the epigraph at the beginning of ‘The Dancer,’ the author Colum McCann quotes William Maxwell, “In any case, in talking about the past we lie with every breath we draw.” Most of us can attest to that, drawing upon our own memories and then when comparing them with siblings, and other significants, find that our own accounts sometimes vary to the point of ‘did we share the same experience?’ The beauty of this multiple POV novel is a glimpse of the greatness of ballet as an art form, a flame of the passion of one man, Rudolph Nureyev, and for me, the brilliance, the absolute eloquence of the everyday people in Nureyev’s life. Did these everyday people actually exist in Nureyev’s life? I hope that people like them did. For me, it is enough that they live and breathe within the writing of McCann.
Born in Ufa, Russia, and descended from Tartars, Nureyev’s life was one of poverty. Performing folk dances for Russian soldiers who’d become patients at the hospital, he would come home with pockets full of sugar cubes, and his head full of applause. His father, a veteran of World War Two, thinks Nureyev should apply himself to becoming a doctor or an engineer, and never supports the idea of his son as a dancer. He’s bullied at school, punished by the teachers. When Anna, a former ballerina, takes him under her wing, he flourishes. I loved the chapter told from Anna’s husband, Sergei’s POV. Sergei is not as impressed with Rudi as Anna (Anna is besotted), but they begin to build many happy moments around the boy. Sergei had been incarcerated previously; now they have a simple room they fill with books and music. Some of their music they keep carefully hidden as it's been forbidden. When Rudi listens to the Russian composer Scriabin, he’d transported; fuel is laid on the flame of his passion.
Nureyev’s decision to defect to the West in 1961 is not the centerpiece of this novel. Instead, McCann discloses the turbulent wake, the ripples of effect. Was there a backlash against his family? How did his defection impact the teachers and friends that he had made at dance school in Leningrad? That same year, 1961, he would meet Margot Fonteyn, which began a long-lasting partnership that would have tremendous impact on both their lives and the world of ballet.
The only part of the story that languishes for me is told from Victor’s POV, very explicit, and tells of the sex scene in New York, especially in the bathhouses. Victor is theatrical, larger than life, an interior decorator from Caracas. With Victor’s POV, I got a sense of lavish parties, accompanied by drugs, fashion divas, and celebrities. Victor, attentive to all the details, making sure the flowers were perfect, and the help prodded with monetary incentives to be at their excellent best. My favorite parts are Sergei’s, Tom, the shoemaker's, and Odile, Nureyev’s cook and housekeeper’s POVs. There are two sweet love stories; they are not Nureyev’s, but fall within the boundaries of his very large life. Nureyev was difficult, arrogant, precise, passionate, committed, kind, and expansive. I was not enthralled with Nureyev’s character, nor was I always engaged, but I loved McCann’s writing and how he explores the life of Nureyev from outside points of view.
McCann’s novel begins and ends with lists of things. 1961, a list of things thrown onto the stage after one of Nureyev’s performances and in 1995, a list of items sold from the Rudolf Nureyev Collection. I love the symmetry this gives to the novel. One item in the sold collection encapsulates the idea of fragility and beauty that is not meant to be held onto, like quickly destroyed sand Mandela's painted by Buddhist monks, glorious and ephemeral. The moments of celebrity are viewed from afar by most of us, but McCann shows us what it could be like to be close to the flame of an extraordinary person like Nureyev, yet how appreciating the smallest moments of being taken over by music, the beauty of a shoe, or the longevity of a fragile cup seem most important. -
This is fiction, but based on the true life events of the famed Russian ballet dancer Rudolf Nureyev (1938-1993). Through fiction the author attempts to show readers not only the external facts of Nureyev’s life but also how he perceived his own life. We are not so much told his inner thoughts, motivations and feelings, but we watch what he does and follow the crazed, hyped celebrity life and the frenzied gay-scene that lead to his death by AIDS. He defected Russia in 1961. We see how this impacted his own life and the lives of those left behind. In this book we are shown, not told. What is shown to us is NOT pleasant. I am sure you know of his promiscuous behavior. There is sex and drugs aplenty. This is not a comforting read, no fairy tale. If that is what you want, then look elsewhere. We see Rudi’ s life through the eyes of both those closest to him and those who only brushed shoulders with him, through famed entities such as Jacqueline Onassis, Andy Warhol, Truman Capote, Erik Buhn, Margot Fonteyn and through fictional characters too.
There is no author’s note stating explicitly what is fiction and what is fact, but I am convinced that Colum McCann has mirrored Nureyev’s world accurately. I did shore up the facts by reading Wikipedia. I learned much through the fictional characters. They gave depth to the story; some of them I grew to love (Odil and Tom and Anna, to name but three.) Having read this book, I feel I have lived next to Nureyev through his childhood, all the way to his death, ending with a final auction of his possessions. Each episode had a message, none were superfluous. I found neither the sex nor his final illness too explicit; I felt the electricity in the air, the dizzying pace, his fight for perfection in his dance and the sensuality of ballet. Don’t expect the life of a true artist to be anything but violent.
The audiobook has five different narrators, named below. In one chapter the reader hops form one character to another, without warning, but I was never confused. The audiobook’s narrators did not correspond to one specific character. You could not assume that if you heard one voice you knew which character was speaking sine there were many more characters than the five audiobook narrators. The only narrator I was not happy with was Jessica Almasy. Her voice was too sweet, too childish! All the others were great, and Suzanne Toren was f-a-n-t-a-s-t-i-c!!! Is she my favorite narrator? There is a brutal chapter filled with sex and drugs, read by one of the male narrators. That too, with its staccato pulse, perfectly created the world of Nureyev at that time. I believe that listening to the audiobook further enhances the reading experience. The tempo, the dialects, the intonations create an atmosphere that carries the reader beyond the written words.
I feel I know now what moved, motivated and pushed Rudolph Nureyev. I feel I understand him. I pity him and I admire him. Both. When I look at his life I look at it with disgust and admiration. I think the author has done a tremendous job. The way Colum McCann has mixed fact with fiction is really amazing. Five stars.
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I have just begun my third book by Colum McCann. It won’t be my last. I cannot get enough of his writing. It is fantastic. Why? Well, because he mixes the tragedy of life with humor and beauty. I have just experienced WW2 in Ufa, Russia. The horror of war is painted on a tableau. Next to this are also people laughing, the wonders of a warm bath, the glint of an eye and the sounds of a balalaika and singing. I can't take the horrors of the earlier tableau if I am not given the happiness too. I love seeing both so beautifully depicted one next to the other. Life IS beautiful if we just pay attention and look and listen and smell. What writing! Is this my favorite author?
I am listening to an audiobook with superb narration by several narrators, men and women who expertly pronounce the Russian dialect. Their names are: Jonathan Davis, Nick Pauling, Jessica Almasy, Marc Vietor and Suzanne Toren. All of them are new to me except Suzanne Toren who did a great job narrating
Ex Libris: Confessions of a Common Reader. I am so glad I have a long-listen ahead of me, more than 12hours. :0) -
As I started listening to the audio version of Dancer I was immediately enthralled by "Rudi" as we meet him as a young boy of six. I was struck by the fact that his very first public dance performance was in a hospital for soldiers home from the Russian front. Shortly thereafter young Rudi is taking ballet lessons and being beat by his disapproving father once he gets home. As the story proceeds it is told by various voices who tell about their own lives as well as Nureyevs’. Telling the story are Rudi’s sister, the daughter of one of his early dance instructors, his housekeeper, and several lovers, but rarely by Rudi himself. All of these characters came alive in their own right and had their own stories to tell. We even meet his ballet shoemaker, whom I adored, and later celebrities like Margot Fonteyn, Erick Bruhn, Truman Capote, and President Kennedy.
This book has many merits and I enjoyed McCann's imagined characters and his writing but for a book that is meant to be a portrait of Nureyev, it felt odd that most of it was about characters other than Nureyev. When I finished the book I still felt hungry for more information about this celebrated dancer. I watched a few documentaries about him and searched the internet for information. Fairly quickly I found an article from 2003 in which Colum McCann is interviewed by Declan Meade from Stinging Fly Magazine about Dancer. What I found in this article surprised me but also made sense of my exerience of the novel. McCann:
“‘What readers want is a good story, well told: and that’s what I want when I read. I really don’t care whether it’s fiction or non-fiction. It’s about language.”
This novel is indeed beautifully written. However, when I read a biography I do care whether it’s fiction or non-fiction. In this case, I knew that this was a fictional biography, but I didn’t realize to what extent the narrative was fiction. As McCann says:
“This is not a biography. It’s a story, a novel, a tale. For a long time I toyed with the idea of calling it “a false portrait….l consciously avoided anyone who knew him well. That left my imagination open to go where I might push it…”
And:
“Basically everyone in the novel is “fictional” or “dreamt,” ….Victor, who carries much of the New York narrative, is based upon a rumour I heard about a gay character living in New York in the 1970’s…I have no idea whatsoever if Victor and Rudi knew each other or not, but I made them best friends. So Victor is essentially made up from scratch…. So are the scenes in Venezuela. To my knowledge Nureyev never visited Venezuela.”
McCann put a lot of time and expense into this biography, traveling to Russia to get a feel of the places where Nureyev was born and learned to dance. As he said:
“ I hung out in cafes in St Petersburg, sat for hours on end in the stairwells of apartment buildings, went to steambaths, sat in the grounds of military hospitals, walked the graveyards. I went to Nureyev’s home town in Ufa. Amazingly, very few people there knew him. He was sort of like a rumour. “
This research in Russia did help McCann bring to life both St. Petersburg and Nureyev’s home town of Ufa. But, In the end, this novel is more about McCann's writing and imagination than Rudolf Nuryev. If you read this novel knowing that and want to enjoy McCann’s imaginative portraits and his gorgeous writing you will enjoy this book. For a true biography about this famous dancer I’d suggest that you look elsewhere.
I highly recommend the fascinating full interview of McCann:
https://stingingfly.org/2003/06/01/in.... -
I spent a week with Dancer by Colum McCann. The novel kept evolving under my eyes and this weekend I finished reading an entirely different book than the one I had begun with. Its very essence had morphed, not to mention its writing, and everything improved dramatically as I progressed, not the other way around. I’m left wondering: was this part of a plan? Or would Bob Ross applaud all the happy accidents that seem to make up this fictionalized biography, here?
I’ve been a regular balletgoer for the last ten years. A season ticket holder, in fact. Forget Swan Lake and The Nutcracker. Forget tutus, while you’re at it. There are astounding productions out there, grounded in current-day ideals and imagery, part and parcel of the contemporary dance movement at least as much as of conventional ballet idiosyncrasies. The first ballet I saw was a local production of Kaguyahime; count me lucky. There were thunder and lightning. Giant Japanese drums onstage. Fights, the way I remember it. I walked out of the concert hall completely energized. Never in a million years had I suspected such high-octane fun coming from a night at the ballet; it sealed the deal and my friend and me started going regularly. We never stopped. That first evening was wild.
Same world, different era: Rudolf Nureyev was wild, himself. It takes a long time for the story to get to it. Dancer begins modestly enough, with a childhood spent under the heel of the Soviet regime. McCann writes the first few dozen pages somewhat conventionally and at that point in the book, I imagined I knew what I was in for. Wrong.
Subtly at first, Dancer already begins to transform itself a little when “Rudi” turns old enough to defect. It will take a good third of the novel to pass for a flurry of confusing voices, some of family members, some not, to be done intersecting each other in establishing a solid background of misery and estrangement for the future premier danseur. Rudi’s own voice is barely ever heard, as the narration relies on third-party accounts all the way. I don’t mind admitting that I felt momentarily lost more than once: McCann wastes no time in switching from one speaker to the next and even less in introducing them.
[Intermission. That glass of wine is waiting. Maybe sex in the washroom, if you’re the star dancer.]
Would you believe that, as Rudy grows into greatness and sophistication – becoming more and more accomplished, garnering international renown – so does the novel? My enjoyment of Dancer developed manifold when book one (out of four) came to an end, precisely halfway through the entire story. Only then does Rudy express himself fully, for pages at a time. The narration will still evolve from that point on, sometimes bewilderingly so, but suddenly our man is alive. We have achieved liftoff. Gravity releases its grip on him, on you, on everything.
Margot Fonteyn also appears around that time to change the game. She gives Rudy a much-welcomed chance to display some refreshing humanity, with both of them dancing their way to the top, around the world and back. Delicate scenes of friendship and celebrity-studded parties provide Dancer with a brand new pulse. I was taken aback at how fast the novel was suddenly changing gears. What a ride! Again, not just the story, also the language, the energy; a whole different novel. A different Rudi. A different McCann?
At the gathering Bacon asked why dance? I retorted, Why paint? He dragged on his cigarette and said painting was the language he would give his soul if he could teach his soul to speak. Yes!
Like a great many shows out there, Dancer will tease you for a good long time before taking you into any significant territory. A smidge too long, in my opinion, but it read as if McCann felt more and more inspired along the way, taking chances, estimating as he went (at some point correctly!) what worked, feeling he was onto something and reaching for the sky as Nureyev himself jumped ever higher.
A spectacular novel after the intermission, but enjoyable throughout. I’ve seen shows like that before, at the ballet. -
Colum McCann's novel Dancer is a fictionalized account of the life of Rudolf Nureyev. Told primarily through the voices of the people around him, I see varying facets of this artist which in aggregate create a more complete picture. I am able to follow him from talented, impetuous boy to accomplished virtuoso.
McCann's prose is brilliant. He captures the physicality of Nureyev's dancing:
"Music reaches into his muscles, the lights spin, he glares at the conductor, who corrects the tempo, and he continues, controlled at first, each move careful and precise, the pieces beginning to fit, his body elastic, three jetes en tournant, careful of the landing, he extends his line, beautiful movement ah cello go. The lights merge, the shirtfronts blur. A series of pirouettes. he is at ease, his body sculpted to the music, his shoulder searching the other shoulder, his right toe knowing the left knee, the height, the depth, the form, the control, the twist of his wrist, the bend of his elbow, the tilt of his neck, notes digging into his arteries, and he is in the air now, forcing the legs up beyond muscular memory, one last press of the thighs, an elongation, a loosening of human contour, he goes higher, and is skyheld."
Somehow McCann turns a 36 page sentence detailing Rudi's night on the town with his friend Victor into the fever and decadence of 1970's Manhattan's gay nightlife.
Where he fails to hold me is with some of his shifts in POV. It sometimes takes a few paragraphs to figure out who the new "I" is. These bumpy transitions pull me out of the story and annoy me.
After a slow start, McCann and Rudi catch fire and I fly through the rest of the novel.
"[Francis] Bacon asked why dance? I retorted Why paint? He . . . said painting was the language he would give his soul if he could teach his soul to speak. Yes! " -
4.5 Stars
’Of course he danced perfectly, light and quick, pliant, his line controlled and composed, but more than that he was using something beyond his body–not just his face, his fingers, his long neck, his hips, but something intangible, beyond thought, some kinetic furry and spirit–and I felt a little hatred for him when the applause rang out.’
Technically, Nureyev’s story begins in 1941, in the Soviet Union, but this story begins in 1961 - albeit briefly - beginning with three pages listing the things that were flung on stage during Nureyev’s first season in Paris. A momentary taste of the glory, the adulation that was to come for Nureyev before returning to another time, sharing the hardships they endured in his youth, as well as his father’s years during the war, before those days of glory. The early years shared in his life serve to share his journey as a young boy drawn to a life of passion for the arts.
’He already knows that if he stays awake long enough he will be able to turn the white knob to Moscow where, at the stroke of midnight, he will hear Tchaikovsky.’
’...he was somehow born within dance, that he was unlettered in it, yet he knew it intimately, it was a grammar for him, deep and untutored. I saw the shine in her eyes when she berated him on a plié and he immediately turned and executed it perfectly, stood grinning, waiting for her to berate him again, which of course she did.’
’He retreated and stopped suddenly with his arms looped in a garland above his head, having scooped the air and made it his, which was certainly not something that Anna had taught him. His nostrils flared, and I thought for a moment that he might paw at the ground like a horse. Certainly there was more intuition in him than intellect, more spirit than knowledge, as if he had been here before in another guise, something wild and feral.’
As patrons of the arts, we take in the beauty of each moment visually, but for dancers like Nureyev, it begins as a passion and becomes more of an obsession to achieve a level of beauty that exceeds the level already reached. The adulation, for the moment, makes the pain worthwhile. But, in many ways, Nureyev’s life was lived on the edge with an almost reckless abandon. What kept him from falling over the edge, time and time again, was his love and friendship of his other acquaintances and friends, perhaps particularly his relationship with Margot Fonteyn, and his love for the mother that led to the life he chose as a dancer. A life with beauty, as well as pain.
’The real beauty in life is that beauty can sometimes occur.’ -
Rudolf Nureyev is a fascinating subject. He led a very gaudy life and this fictionalization does it justice. I haven’t read any of the Nureyev biographies, but since I was alive while he was dancing I absorbed a lot of information about him contemporaneously. I watched him dance on TV. Unfortunately, I couldn’t afford to see him live until the 1980s (maybe the late 1970s) when he was getting old for a dancer, however seeing him was always a wonderful experience. Even when he wasn’t dancing, just watching his beautiful and expressive face was mesmerizing, and he always appeared to be just about to dance.
The book was arranged chronologically and followed Nureyev from his earliest dance experiences, to his defection from Russia, his immense fame, his excessive lifestyle, his return to Russia to visit his dying mother and finally to the auction of his extravagant possessions after his death from AIDS. It didn’t actually cover his death, and I am grateful for that. The story is told from multiple points of view and my only complaint about the book is that it sometimes took me a while to figure out who was speaking. I listened to the audiobook edition of this book, narrated by Dion Graham. His narration was excellent throughout, particularly in the NYC part of the book when Nureyev’s life was a blur of sex, drugs and dancing. Graham barreled along at such a pace that it seemed he didn’t take a breath during the entire chapter. -
This is certainly one of the very best biographical novels I've ever read. Truly unforgettable portrait of Nureyev and his passion and artistic drive.
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Time for a well overdue re-read...
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Dancer was a masterclass in writing.
I am generally not a fan of novels based on real people, but this one was impressive.
I was familiar with Rudolf Nureyev, who was regarded as one of the greatest male ballet dancers of his generation and had a lasting influence on many male ballet dancers who followed. His name is often mentioned and referenced when it comes to ballet excellence. This novel introduced me to some biographical details. Told via different POVs from people who were close, peripheral to Nureyev, or just imagined, McCann accomplishes to create an ephemeral portrait of someone who was well-known yet a mystery, a complex, extravagant character, with a temper and penchant for drama.
I can only imagine how much research and work McCann must have put into this novel. The parts about Russia felt authentic and they reminded me about stories I'd heard or experiences I had as a child growing up in another communist-ruled country, ie food, fuel shortages, electricity blackouts, the propaganda etc.
Anyway, I loved this novel and encourage everyone to read it.
Many thanks to Candi for bringing Dancer to my attention.
NB: excellent audiobook, with many different narrators. I did grumble at the fact that some of the characters were given accents, mostly the Russians when the narrations were in the first person. It wasn't that I thought the accents were bad, they weren't, but it wasn't always consistent across the board and I did find it ridiculous that the French, Venezuelan and other characters didn't get accents. -
Nada neste mundo alguma vez se aproxima da perfeição.
Já andava para me estrear com Colum McCann há uns tempos, mas, por qualquer razão, Apeirogon é um daqueles livros que não me está a inspirar lá muita vontade (precisamente por tanta gente gostar dele é que receio pegar-lhe). Por isso, a solução foi começar por este O Bailarino. Como sempre, quando lhe peguei nem sequer tinha lido o nome de Nureyev na contracapa - essa zona está completamente interdita antes de iniciar uma leitura -, mas isso, mais uma vez, revelou ser boa ideia já que me permitiu apreciar o romance para lá do protagonista (cuja imagem me ficou gravada a ferro e fogo na memória quando estudei L'après-midi d'un faune - pesquisem e agradeçam-me depois). Algo curiosa é a minha abordagem a uma figura que sempre me inspirou igual dose de atração e receio, levando a que me afastasse da sua biografia um pouco de forma propositada, um pouco sem querer. Mas isso não foi nenhum handicap para esta leitura porque ela não se pretende uma biografia e sim um romance. Um romance com teor biográfico, mas um romance que pretende explorar mais além, recuperando, através de fragmentos, uma vida maior do que a vida, uma personagem lendária, um homem escondido pela capa de uma estrela.
Assim discorre O bailarino, recriando para o leitor ambientes de vários matizes que vão desde a guerra, à infância em Ufa onde Nureyev (Rudik) cresce sob a pesada mão do pai e o rigor do regime soviético, à descoberta de uma paixão sublime...
Rudik não se lamuriava das contusões e não tinha aquele olhar vazio que vi muitas vezes noutros rapazes e homens. Era espancado por causa da dança e, no entanto, continuava a dançar, por isso, uma coisa compensava a outra. As tareias surgiam no ímpeto do momento, inclusive no dia após ter completado treze anos de idade. Não duvido que Rudik merecesse - era capaz de ser terrivelmente impertinente - mas eu diria que, espancando-o, negando-lhe a possibilidade de dançar, o pai estava a proporcionar-lhe o dom da necessidade.
...ao primeiro palco que pisa, aos seus esforços sobrenaturais para se tornar o maior entre os maiores...
Inalava tudo, tornava-se mais alto e magro, com um sorriso malicioso que podia silenciar uma sala, mas não estava consciente do seu corpo nem do seu poder. Acima de tudo, era tímido e receoso. Anna dizia-lhe que todo o seu corpo devia dançar, todo, não apenas os braços ou as pernas. Beliscava-lhe a orelha, dizendo que até o lóbulo devia acreditar no movimento. Endireita as pernas. Marca as viragens mais depressa. Trabalha na tua linha. Absorve a dança como papel mata-borrão. Ele apegava-se a tudo diligentemente, nunca desistindo sem ter aperfeiçoado um passo, mesmo que isso significasse outra tareia do pai.
...à fama, aos excessos, ao mediatismo e à exaltação que o circundam:
Toda a gente tinha uma história de Rudi e cada qual mais ultrajante do que a seguinte e provavelmente falsa - de modo que Rudi é um mito vivo.
Colum McCann constrói assim um romance intimista e belo com uma certa aura de tristeza e desapego; um romance que exsuda admiração pela figura de Nureyev; um romance que louva a sua intensidade...
Certamente havia nele mais intuição do que intelecto, mais espírito do que conhecimento, como se já cá tivesse estado antes, sob uma outra forma, algo selvagem e bravio.
... a sua determinação e autoconfiança...
Arepende-se de alguma coisa, Monsieur Nureyev?
Quando já tudo está dito e feito, eu não mudaria nada que tenha dito ou feito. Se olharmos para trás, arriscamo-nos a cair das escadas
Isso é muito filosófico.
Sei ler.
...mas também as suas lutas, a sua fragilidade, o seu sentimento de abandono, a dureza da expatriação...
Sim, sou um felizardo. Tenho um contrato, uma casa, massagista, agentes, amigos. Dancei em quase todos os continentes. Tomei chá na Casa Branca com o Presidente Kennedy antes de ele ter sido baleado. Margot e eu dançámos na tomada de posse de Johnson. Na Casa da Opera Estatal de Viena tivemos oitenta e nove chamadas ao palco. As ovações muitas vezes duram meia hora. Sou gloriosamente feliz, mas por vezes, acordo de manhã com a horrível sensação de que tudo acabou e que nunca teve grande significado. Não tenho qualquer desejo de ser servido como uma sensação, um prodígio de nove dias. Vou de país para país. Sou uma não-pessoa onde me torno uma pessoa. Sou desprovido de estado onde existo. É assim e sempre foi assim, suponho mesmo que desde os nossos tempos em Ufa. É a dança e só a dança que me mantém vivo.
Para McCann, Nureyev surge como um homem belo, carismático e talentoso, ora generoso ora avaro, ora gentil ora irascível, em profunda fratura consigo mesmo, tentando preencher por força da fama, do dinheiro ou do sexo, os espaços de ninguém que o habitam:
Rudi arrastou os primeiros três homens que conseguiu encontrar, alinhou-os contra a parede, Uma autêntica brigada de fuzilamento! E foi-se a eles da mesma maneira que dançava, cheio de elegância e ferocidade, a sua fama sexual quase igualando o renome da sua dança, sabia-se mesmo que Rudi fazia uma pausa nas actuações para uma rapidinha, e uma vez em Londres saiu do teatro no intervalo, vestiu o sobretudo por cima dos trajes de dança, mudou de sapatos, desceu a rua a correr até às casas de banho públicas, onde entrou numa cabina e foi detido por assediar um polícia.
Estruturalmente complexo, apresentando diferentes pontos de vista, diferentes narradores e diferentes abordagens, O Bailarino oferece, na realidade, dois Nureyev diferentes: um Nureyev pré-deserção, muito jovem, muito doce e muito resiliente por quem o leitor sente uma ternura indizível e um Nureyev pós-deserção, duro, mais superficial e couraçado contra o mundo por quem o leitor sente respeito, mas também uma certa animosidade: Nureyev homem, Nureyev mito.
Ao longo da narrativa sente-se o efeito de contraste que o autor quer atribuir ao conflito interno do bailarino: uma contenda entre dinheiro e fama, e a negação da sua identidade, do regresso a casa (à Rússia que o condena a sete anos de trabalhos forçados pelo crime de deserção) e à família; o conflito entre uma vida sob os holofotes e uma vida sob as escutas de amigos e inimigos; a vida pública e a privada, a vida lícita e a ilícita, a vida diurna e a vida noturna... Do seu contacto com personalidades famosas, divas, rockstars, McCann salienta as ligações que foram alimentando o pequeno Rudi, permitindo-lhe sobreviver sob a capa de Rudolf: da família que abandona na Rússia, às parceiras de dança, aos amantes, aos serventes, aos fãs.
O próprio romance convoca os movimentos e respirações de um bailado, seguindo o seu rumo sem pressas, com delicadeza, avançando e recuando, deslizando ao longo de um palco em que se desvenda o homem, despindo o mito. Essa capacidade de transmutar biografia, romance e fresco é qualquer coisa de verdadeiramente único nesta obra justificando a sua leitura por quem for fã do autor, do bailarino ou somente de boa literatura.
No ajuntamento, Bacon perguntou: porquê a dança? Retorqui: porquê a pintura? Prolongou o cigarro e disse que a pintura era a linguagem que daria à sua alma, se tivesse de ensinar a alma a falar.
Sim! -
Dancer by Colum McCann was a stunning and beautifully written novel about the life and work of Rudolf Nureyev, the legendary tale about a Russian peasant boy from humble beginnings in Ufa outside of Leningrad and thus going on to become a world-renowned icon in the dance world. This vibrant and imaginative work is told from many perspectives which, at times, is dizzying in its kaleidoscopic effects as we see the complexities and yet the nuances of the life of Nureyev unfolding in such dramatic fashion before our eyes; a life lived to the fullest on three continents in the last half of the twentieth century. It is through these many voices of those sensing the promise of that individuality, vibrancy and talent that we are able to glimpse Nureyev, the man, as we learn the intimate stories of those watching from the wings.
One of the truly lovely parts of the book is when young Rudi at age eleven is taken under the wings of legendary dancers Anna and Sergei Vasilev, ten years later arranging for him to be mentored by Aleksandr Pushkin taking him under his tutelage in Paris. One of the most endearing things he learned from Pushkin was that to be a great dancer he must also know the great stories as he begins to study Gogol, Joyce, Dostoyevsky, Byron and Shelley as well as the Dutch masters. On a visit where they all are briefly united, Yulia, the daughter of Anna and Sergei Vasilev is watching as they all come together in a striking tableau:
"They turned to us briefly and waved, and I thought what curious mirrors they were in the world; my parents, teachers of the boy, looking at the Pushkins, teachers of the man, and the man himself already gone down the street."
Throughout his career, Nureyev was associated with his beautiful dance partner, Margot Fonteyn, and the indescribable beauty and palpable chemistry that they exuded both on and off the stage. But in the words of Rudolf Nureyev as they were performing Romeo and Juliet and Margot is controlling the stage with her solo:
"Standing in the shadows, he regains his breath . . . He scuffs the resin box for traction, waits as she receives her applause. Here it is now, take it, grasp it, explode! He returns from the wings already in midair, moves through four cabrioles, keeping his line long until the sound catches up, an instant of conjunction, a flash of muscle and he sweeps the stage with his body, owning it, no limits. Eight perfect entrechats-dix, a thing of wonder, the audience slilent now, no body anymore no thought no awareness this must be the moment the others call god as if all doors are open everywhere leading to all other open doors nothing but open doors forever no hinges no frames no jambs no edges no shadows this is my soul born weightless born timeless a clock spring broken, he is in flight, he could stay like this forever and he looks out into the haze of necklaces eyeglasses cufflinks shirtfronts and knows he owns them."
I loved this book as it is a literary masterpiece, one that I will treasure and again read. -
This paints the essence of Rudolf Nureyev. Rudi’s uncontrollable drive to perfect dance, his Tatar heritage, his arrogance, his meanness, his loves, his rags to riches, and his generosity are exposed by McCann’s use of multiple narrators, compact sentences and extensive research. It’s a five star read for me because I forgive McCann’s need to randomly insert tiresome trope writing (repeating the same two lines for a page and a half). His brilliant composition outshines my personal irks.
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A novel about Rudolf Nureyev, the famous Russian ballet dancer who took the western world by storm following a tense and dramatic defection at a Parisian airport. For the rest of his life, he faced a prison sentence in the USSR for this political betrayal.
This book is not a straightforward narrative biography, or fictionalized biography, but is pieced together from multiple voices — teachers, dancers, family members, lovers, his shoemaker, housekeeper — all those many people whose lives intersected with the mercurial energy of this ballet superstar. The effect is that of a mosaic, or a collage, but some of these voices are hard to identify, and you might become fond of a voice only to experience an abrupt shift to someone else. Some reappear and others never do. The result at times could be a little choppy or uneven.
I both admired this approach, and was annoyed by it. We see "Nureyev the celebrity" from multiple perspectives, and that deepens and complicates his aura, his magnetism, and his humanity. The longest section follows the life of a Venezuelan in New York, Victor Pareci, in the 1970s and unfortunately this was my least favourite section and the book started to drag for me. This long section focussed more on Victor's own life, and Rudi disappeared. The length of this digression felt like an interruption, and McCann's depiction of 1970s New York seemed superficial and sensationalized. (I also had this Victor confused in my muddled grasp of 1970s New York gay gossip with Halston's Venezuelan boyfriend, also named Victor — but that was Victor Hugo.)
Rounded up to 4 stars because the book is richly entertaining, although flawed, and the multi-faceted approach does polish the rough jewel of celebrity into something a little more human and life-sized, while still managing to evoke the outsized energy and achievement of this inimitable creative force. -
Thoughts soon.
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2 stars - was okay - barely!
McCann was just removed from my favored author list. I really struggled to complete this book. I also removed one star for the very poor punctuation in this book. One complete section was without any periods and capitalization at the beginning of sentences. What is that all about? What does that do for the book? What does that do for the reader? Only 336 pages and a mass production to take on. You had to guess at who the narrator was in each section of the book, until sometimes right at the end of that section when it was revealed whether you were right or not. This could have been a good book if it had not been such a pain to read.
The life of the ballet star Rudik 'Rudolf' Nureyev. From his peasant beginnings in Russia to his New York celebrity. From his cocky impudent egotistical lifestyle and attitude to his stroke of fame and everyone who he walked on along the way. -
Very brisk and rather quickly read. I picked this up idly from a friend's bookcase after a night of drinking, since I love to sleep but don't like to surrender that easily, and got through the bulk of it in one extended recumbency (semester's over, not much to do, figure I'd tack another contemporary up while I've got the time). the narrative is ideally suited for this kind of thing. McCann writes with some distinct, succinct, almost punchy sentences which follow each other so fluidly that the reader doesn't really notice how easily the pages are passing.
the story is interesting for people (like me) who revel in tortured artist stories. Didn't know very much about Nureyev and now I'm curious. McCann makes what seems to be a somewhat exaggerated though essentially accurate portrait of the man- aggressive, sexy, willful, egocentric but with an equally irrefutable sensitivity and brutal sense of repressed loss. I was reminded of an anecdote I'd heard about Michaelangelo and how he loved to sculpt out of marble- the "ecstasy", as contrasted to "agony"- and the subsequent image of him as a workaholic who loved his studio and the rigors of the workshop, to say nothing of the final product. Nureyev seemed similar, and it was inspiring to read about his dedication matching his passion and perfectionism. You gotta love to practice, whatever you're doing, don't you? It might well be that whatever you find enjoyably challenging when working on- never mind finishing- might just be your calling. Screw the final product, or the pride of creation. If the moonlighting is fun for you, then you ought to think about sticking to it. Journey not the destination, blahblahblah....
All in all, a very solid story. At points McCann really hit his stride with a sort of deliberate stream of consciousness structure for "Rudi"'s semi-diary as his artistic perfection and public acclaim start to click into place. You really get the sense of what it would be like to be a touring performer, seen of course through Rudi's eyes specifically. The supporting cast of characters- his sensual dance partner Margot, Erik the possibly number 2 dancer in the world, who is also his anguished obscure object of desire, his teacher, his floundering, gradually desperate family snowed in under Soviet repression and totalitarian imprisonment, the bird-flipping 3 year exile Nureyev assumes when the word gets back from Paris that the great ballet dancer might be...um... a 'poofta', and the charismatic, sybaritic Venezuelan Victor, queen of the coke-sodden suckathon in 80's bathouse NYC who fades out dreaming of ultimate cock and shooting down his poisoned cells himself.
The novel does veer into some sort of overdone, obvious metaphorizing, dangling over the precipice of "Nice Writing"...part of the reason the book moves so floatingly and reads so smoothly is precisely because it's nearly all surface. McCann literalizes so much of the narrative and the motivations for the characters that we know pretty much exactly what we're getting, moment by moment, move by move, word for word. It's not simplistic, really, it's more that the narrative it presented with surface detail which swerves from the more ingrained form of storytelling, which would be to let the diagesis do the talking. The "show" not the "tell", in the irritating and almost irrelevant phrasing of the fiction workshop. It's a surface which necessarily follows the complex, firey, and dynamic characters all right, and therefore expresses their humanity in more complicated forms than simple minimalism would, but for a large part what you see is what you get. It's easy to enjoy but doesn't really hit the kinds of depths which the best of fiction has to offer. The dancing is vivid, but its under glass. -
I have no idea how I want to rate this book. It took me quite a while to finish because while reading it I thought I didn't like it. Now that I finished it, I realize I liked it more that I thought I would. There are parts hard to read, Victor's (and somewhat Nureyev's) lifestyle, the horrible way of life in Russia that Nureyev's family and friends had to endure, for example. I did come to like several of the characters, like his housekeeper Odile, his shoemaker Tom, friend Yulia and her parents and dancing partner Margot. The structure of the book is very different, each chapter is a different narrator as well as different style, for example Nureyev's are short little paragraphs that aren't connected. Victor's have no punctuation, not even periods. His sister's are in diary form. At first this was difficult, then it grew on me.
It certainly seems Nureyev was an unlikeable person but McCann did let us see a tender side of The Dancer now and then which I appreciated. Tonight I am going to try and find videos of Nureyev to see him dance and hopefully hear him speak as well.
Tough one to rate. 3.5 in the end. It would be hard to recommend this book but I am glad I read it. -
At any one time we all have at least one dance in us. For Nureyev dance was all. His body, from childhood, was his instrument of expression. As he learned what his body could do he built a picture of his world. His dance became the mother of all tongues, cutting across language barriers and speaking to individuals on a primal emotional level. Colum McCann writes of Nureyev’s life using vivid descriptions. His emotional delivery adds weight to his words. He speaks the truth with a twist of fiction to make it more entertaining. There’s no expounding dry facts in a dead pan way. The result is a story that is as spontaneous and flowing as Nueyev’s dance. This is about his dance of life with all the sexual enthusiasm and sensuality it contained.
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“When everything is said and done I would not swap anything I have either said or done. If you look back you’ll only fall down the stairs..”
A glimpse into life of one of the most talented and troubled dancers of the last century, Rudolf Nureyev. His journey from utter poverty in Soviet Tatarstan to world fame and wealth. I liked the style of the book - the array of diary entries and interviews of people who one way or another touched his life - from his personal assistant, to family members, to partners in “crime”, to shoemaker.. everyone reveals yet another edge of his character and yet another side of life that was anything but dull. Easy, fast and immersive read. Recommend! -
3.5 ★
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One of my favorite McCann novels, after Songdogs. This is based on the Russian dancer Rudolf Nureyev and maps out his life from a poor child in Russia through the height of his career in New York City, the gay scene, parties with Andy Worhol and John Lennon and his relationship with Eric Bruhm. But mostly, McCann paints a fascinating picture of Nureyev's drive for perfection.
