Judith Mackrell – Bloomsbury Ballerina

I know absolutely nothing about dance, and only picked this up because it had the word ‘Bloomsbury’ in the title. I’m very glad I did.

Lydia Lopokova’s ambitious (and alcoholic) father worked as an usher at one of St Petersburg’s most prestigious theatres. In time honoured fashion, he is all, how can I get out of this dump and get me some booze? I know, by exploiting my children and making them into world class dancers! And though normally this train of thought leads straight to delusion-town, by an odd coincidence, his daughter is in fact magically suited to just that destiny. Normally, I think of ballerinas as all arch and enigmatic, but Lydia succeeded because she was exactly the opposite – charming, funny, even cuddly.

However talented you are, when your main rival for success is Anna Pavlova, you’ve still got to take your chances where you can get them. So Lydia sets off for America where ballet is all exotic and foreign – but also underappreciated. So she ends up living a very ratchety, hand to mouth existence, with various unsuitable affairs and a brush with bigamy.

It’s all a very long way from the refined world of Imperial Glory, and looks like a terrible decision, until World War I and the Russian Revolution. As international shit storms have a way of putting inconveniences into perspective.

At the end of the war, Lydia ends up in Good Old Blighty, where ballerinas are much favoured, especially cuddly ones and she becomes a big celebrity. Complete with the celebrity marriage of her day….with John Maynard Keynes.

Only in my Husband’s imaginary paradise are economists as famous as JMK is at this point. Also, until now he’s never been interested in a woman before. And all his friends HATE her because they are big snobs and her funny Russian expressions do not fit in. (Incidental fact – Lydia is the model for Rezia in Mrs Dalloway).

So the romantic omens are not good, but against all odds, their marriage is a big success. Though despite being the cleverest clog in the world, JMK is unable to work out that massive cigar chomping + huge dinner scoffing + middle aged man = coronary trouble. And eventually, Lydia has to give up her career to keeping him alive so that he can save Good Old Blighty from certain bankruptcy during World War II and secure global economic security at Bretton Woods. Hooray! But saving the world through economics pretty knackering when you’ve had several heart attacks. The inevitable happens. Lydia becomes increasingly reclusive and dotty and its all very sad.

I really enjoyed this book, mostly because Lydia is so unlike the ballerinas of my imagination. I don’t think she was half as guileless and naive as she made out (her clothes had a funny habit of falling off at significant moments in her career) but she had such charisma and zest that what could have seemed a bit consciously obnoxious was in fact sweetly endearing.

Also, I can see that dance is an incredibly difficult thing to write about, being all about movement and grace instead of imprecise, clumsy words: Mackrell does a fantastic job of bringing the dance alive, as well as the very different times and places (high society Russia, vaudeville America, post-war Britain) Lydia lived in. My only complaint is that it was probably 100 pages longer than it needed to be.

Makes me almost want to do a pirouette.