dirac

Thanks as always for these alerts, volcanohunter!

That's a cute story, richard53dog, thanks.

That's useful to know, Simon, thanks.

Well, it must be said that Sills didn't help herself with that second book. Even after making allowances it doesn't always make for pleasant reading.

There are so many Tudor biographies out there! There's a good older bio of Mary I, H.M.F. Prescott's "Mary Tudor" aka "The Spanish Tudor," a very sympathetic account.

I note for the record that most of the articles mentioned above can be found in our very own Links.

I think that's fair. Sills came very close to missing out on stardom completely and I'm sure that stayed with her a long time. She had to be tough and maybe it made her a bit of a grievance collector. "Bubbles" is the kind of autobiographical work that tends to appear while the performer is still active, "Beverly" is the one that settles scores. I remember that. Sigh.

Quite right. I mentioned actors by way of pointing out that calf insecurity isn't a novel form of anxiety for male performers. (Olivier and Evans were both stage actors first although the former did become a movie star, so how they appeared in front of a live audience was very much a concern for both. Perhaps Kean and Irving did a little stocking stuffing as well. I'll have to look into it. ) I think dancers' bodies have gravitated to a certain ideal over the years with the expansion of the talent pool and improvements in training and nutrition - remember Tanaquil Le Clercq telling Barbara Newman, "Today it's like a master race" -- and that was decades ago. You make a good point about the new athleticism in dance. It's also true that the cult of working out looms very large in our culture today.

Thanks for the link, Quiggin. Men's body image problems remain miniscule in comparison to the cultural pressure put on women, but they exist for men too. As for the calf issue, it's something actors worry about as well. Laurence Olivier was self conscious about his calves and padded them. He was an athletic specimen in his younger days so I think it had more to do with the natural shape of his leg than a lack of bulk or muscle tone. Tyrone Power and Maurice Evans are two others I can think of who did the same. (Swashbucklers and Shakespeare require a lot of exposure in tights.) If they were around today, who knows, they might well consider implants, but I'm surprised any dancer would take chances with his limbs. I've seen female dancers whose calves and thighs were too thin for my taste, but perhaps the difference is that excessive thinness is considered more desirable or at least acceptable in women, so skinny legs aren't as great a concern for them, whereas men with thinnish legs risk looking foolish in tights.

Hello, vagansmom. I haven't read McDermott myself, but perhaps someone else has. I have a similar reaction to William Trevor (it sounds from your description as if the two of them may cover similar territory). His short stories are enthralling but very depressing in the aggregate.

Leigh reviews the Stephen Petronio Company. http://www.nypost.com/p/entertainment/thea...EnUkLKYyU1BNFBO

I'm surprised that Robert Service could possibly object to anyone saying his books suck.

Regular mail still has its advantages. But I agree they could be a little more imaginative.

Thanks for posting this article, Mashinka. It's a good article as these unabashed fan letters go and Queenan has been careful to add a fair number of qualifications. At the risk of turning the American populace against me, I'll say I've never been a big fan of Eastwood's acting or directing and the Eastwood movies I've enjoyed tend to be outliers like The Beguiled or In the Line of Fire. Certainly as a director he's built up an impressive body of work on challenging subjects, even if I tend to think his pictures are a tad overrated, and he deserves a lot of credit for that.

The train I normally take runs every twenty - thirty minutes or so, but on one occasion I had to use the other train (taking a bus to get to it). Not realizing that the service switched to hourly in the evening, I did not rush to make the eleven o'clock. On that occasion I was unaccompanied and so I was alone in that huge drafty station until midnight with few people around except for some suspicious characters lurking about. I hope I don't scare easy but I was relieved when the train finally arrived.

I don't know, bart, but at the risk of sounding callous I have to say that even if the dancers are weeping in the wings and having nervous breakdowns over it there are still going to be times I have to catch that train. I would hope that they would appreciate the time, expense, and effort I invest in coming in for the performance, and if they’re wounded by the occasional early exit, I’ll gladly surrender my season ticket to some more prosperous person who can afford digs closer to the opera house.

The contemporary need to remain eternally connected and in touch plays a role, I think. I sometimes wonder if there isn't a certain ego boost involved in the constant checking for messages. It's also not very courteous to one's companion, I would think, although many people don't seem to mind.

Thank you for the links, innopac. Figes will be fine. The Internet makes people do odd things. As one of the articles you linked to notes, you can recover from almost anything these days. (Until the 'tip of the iceberg' fellow goes on the record I'm not inclined to pay too much attention to that.)

Sometimes people have to catch trains or buses. If I'm on the aisle I don't always linger for all the curtain calls. A few minutes can make the difference between catching the train and waiting twenty minutes plus, and if you're coming into town from a distance that can be a big deal. If I'm in the middle of a row I wouldn't think of shoving past people to get out, but there are good reasons for having to make a quick getaway.

I think you're right, Quiggin. And there's this:

Nice quote, innopac. Interesting, if unsurprising, that the Americans became at least as agitated over race as sex.

Thanks for telling us about it, duffster. I'm hoping the restored version will be shown in a theater in my area eventually. I've seen Red Shoes many times, but never on the big screen.

That's a good point, sidwich.

Regarding the women trying to get to the ladies' room before the line gets too long, you might be less judgmental, bart, if by some magic you found yourself transformed temporarily into a member of the opposite sex. I imagine most women try to avoid using the men's room out of a sense of propriety and possibly necessity and the situation would have to get pretty desperate before they started getting in line for the men's room. I note the sexes will often wait for "their" restroom even when it's a room with no booths and you have total privacy once the door is locked. The large lady may have remained silent out of embarrassment - our culture is not kind to the fat - but nevertheless she should have apologized or thanked you. There can be many reasons for leaving before the curtain calls are done. I'm sure getting to the ladies' room is one of them but I certainly don't blame the women in such a case.

Thanks for the link, Ray. You are right about the Faulkner. It is a poem and the line breaks are marked with the capitalizations. That Nabokov review is a stitch. I can certainly understand how he would have found Lifar's prose heavy going. I also liked this: