Review: "Don't Think, Dear" by Alice Robb

 

Don't Think, Dear by Alice Robb
Published 28 February 2023 via Mariner Books
★★★★

Alice Robb was one of Balanchine's girls: as a student at the School of American Ballet, it didn't matter that Balanchine had been dead twenty years; his ghost still roamed the halls, and girls clustered, breathless, around dancers who once upon a time had studied with Balanchine, who could impart his wisdom.

Robb didn't make it as a professional dancer. Ultimately, her body was not built for the exacting requirements demanded of Balanchine's ballerinas, and she moved on to other things. Yet ballet had wrapped its pointe ribbons around her soul—she could leave ballet, but it would not leave her. Thus this book: Don't Think, Dear is part memoir of being a student, part dive into the history of Balanchine and all that surrounded him: the New York City Ballet, the School of American Ballet, the Balanchine technique (which enabled dancers to perform surprising new feats, but at a steep cost to their bodies), the way Balanchine demanded dangerous thinness and complete submission of his dancers.

I've read many, many ballet memoirs (though I'm no former dancer—I took one community class as a kid, then moved on to other activities—I just have arbitrary interests), but I am *quite* sure that Robb has read many, many more ballet memoirs than I have. If you too have read more than your fair share, you'll recognize some of the material Robb quotes from but also find yourself highlighting passages or folding down corners as you find new things to read. I admit that my knowledge of past generations of ballet dancers is not as sharp as it could be, and it was fascinating to read about Margot Fonteyn and Alicia Alonso in particular—the former, famed for her artistry but prepared to throw it all away for a toxic marriage; the latter, refusing to let increasing blindness keep her off the stage.

If Chloe Angyal's Turning Pointe was a bit too much modern history and not enough memoir for you, but you want something more contemplative than a standard ballet memoir—or if you're interested in hearing more stories that don't read like a litany of successful performances with the occasional worrying injury thrown in—Don't Think, Dear makes for a compelling middle ground of personal narrative and broader view. And now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to peruse Robb's bibliography...

Thanks to the author and publisher for providing a free review copy through NetGalley.