On a freezing night in January 2013, a hooded assailant hurled acid in the face of the artistic director of the Bolshoi Ballet. The crime, organized by a lead soloist, dragged one of Russia’s most illustrious institutions into scandal. The Bolshoi Theater had been a crown jewel during the reign of the tsars and an emblem of Soviet power throughout the twentieth century. Under Putin in the twenty-first century, it has been called on to preserve a priceless artistic legacy and mirror Russia’s neo-imperial ambitions. The attack and its torrid aftermath underscored the importance of the Bolshoi to the art of ballet, to Russia, and to the world.
The acid attack resonated far beyond the world of ballet, both into Russia’s political infrastructure and, as renowned musicologist Simon Morrison shows in his tour-de-force account, the very core of the Bolshoi’s unparalleled history. With exclusive access to state archives and private sources, Morrison sweeps us through the history of the storied ballet, describing the careers of those onstage as well as off, tracing the political ties that bind the institution to the varying Russian regimes, and detailing the birth of some of the best-loved ballets in the repertoire.
From its disreputable beginnings in 1776 at the hand of a Faustian charlatan, the Bolshoi became a point of pride for the tsarist empire after the defeat of Napoleon in 1812. After the revolution, Moscow was transformed from a merchant town to a global capital, its theater becoming a key site of power. Meetings of the Communist Party were hosted at the Bolshoi, and the Soviet Union was signed into existence on its stage. During the Soviet years, artists struggled with corrosive censorship, while ballet joined chess tournaments and space exploration as points of national pride and Cold War contest. Recently, a $680 million restoration has restored the Bolshoi to its former glory, even as prized talent has departed.
As Morrison reveals in lush and insightful prose, the theater has been bombed, rigged with explosives, and reinforced with cement. Its dancers have suffered unimaginable physical torment to climb the ranks, sometimes for so little money that they kept cows at home whose milk they could sell for food. But the Bolshoi has transcended its own fraught history, surviving 250 years of artistic and political upheaval to define not only Russian culture but also ballet itself. In this sweeping, definitive account, Morrison demonstrates once and for all that, as Russia goes, so goes the Bolshoi Ballet.
Simon Morrison is Professor of Music History at Princeton, where he earned his PhD in musicology. A leading authority on composer Serge Prokofiev, he is the author of The People's Artist, along with numerous scholarly articles, and features for the New York Times. In 2011, Morrison was awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship.
A very enjoyable history of the Bolshoi, well-researched and readable. The in-depth histories of some of the Bolshoi's most enduring ballets (Swan Lake, Romeo and Juliet, Spartacus etc.) are the jewels of this book.
What a trial and a convoluted mess of a book/series of disjointed paragraphs forced together. Five stars for the research, but the final product reads like the first draft of a second year history essay, when a student has pulled together absolutely every piece of source evidence in one document and now needs to create a narrative. This work jumps around incomprehensibly. Wonderful topics - Russian history, the history of ballet in Russia, and the significance of the Bolshoi to Russian identity and culture is made dull and confusing. The Guardian's Sarah Crompton put it best: "Yet for all its forensic detail and fascinating facts, this is a flawed undertaking. It has a confusing tendency to double back on itself in terms of chronology, as if the detail has overwhelmed the writer. He loses his thread in the labyrinths he is exploring. Characters appear so briefly you lose track of who’s who." Absolutely. Absurdly, the writer will repeatedly mention a character in multiple chapters, then 'introduce' them - hundreds of pages later. Or go into detail about Plisetskaya's foreign posts in the 1980s in Italy and Spain - and then in the next paragraph note ''by the 1980s she could accept foreign offers". Well, yes, clearly, as you just spent some time telling us that. Pity any of the author's students who receive advice from him about how to structure a paper. The Notes section - almost a third of the book - is valuable.
I won this book in GoodReads giveaways in exchange for an honest review.
If I gave my name in the hope of winning this book, it was because I am interested in Russian history and because a member of my family was a ballerina for a few years. I told myself that I should find twice as much interest as most people.
But no, on the contrary, it seems that I found there half as much interest. What was said of Russian history was unsatisfactory because it doesn't go in sufficient depth to really understand what was happening. And what was said of the ballet was interspersed with this general history. Maybe the author should have said more about the ballet company and only use history as a framework, no more than that. I don't know, but there was something to adjust there.
There is no character on which emphasis is really placed and none that one could identify with, which could have constituted a thread of frame to this novel and maintained my interest.
This book is not entirely without interest, but it took me longer than usual to finish it; which is never a good sign. For when I really love a novel, I read it cover to cover in record time. But, in fairness to this book, I must say that I am not a passionate reader of historical stories; it is simply not my favorite genre.
I really tried with this book, but it just felt too much like a university textbook for me. Way too much minute detail (it really seemed like this author was bound and determined that every single page of research he did for this book was going into it come hell or high water) and much more about the politics and history of Russis than I expected or needed.
I understand that the politics and history have impacted the Bolshoi, but that aspect could have been edited to augment the part about the ballet itself rather than drown the reader in that component; at least that's how it felt to me.
When a book is over 400 pages long, it had better engross me completely to convince me to commit to that kind of time spent with it. This book did not come even close to that level of engagement for me to continue with it when I have so many other books on my list that I desperately want to read. I very much DID NOT desperately want to keep reading this book, so back to the libary it goes.
I am giving this four stars because of all the work and research. However, I was disapointed that some of the greatest dancers in the world were not given at least a chapter each. Infact the book is more a goverment testimony. Nijjinsky (the sister) and Pavlova were only mentioned in passing, never mind Vaslav Nijjinsky who was one of most famious dancer ever . Maya Plisetkaya was given fair treatment. I was hoping for more about dance and dancers, not a rehash of Communist politics.
Very poorly organized and the author writes with such obvious and strong personal opinions, especially about the more recent events, that it feels pretty biased.
Overall, this is a well-researched book detailing the history of the Bolshoi ballet in Moscow from its early origins as a motley troupe pre-Napoleonic invasion through the nearly $700 million renovation of the Bolshoi theatre in the 2000s (and the acid attack on artistic director Sergey Filin in 2013). Of particular interest are the Soviet years, when political ideology forced art to reject "formalism" (a work's artistic value is determined by its form) for glorification of the realism of the Soviet people (which was ever shifting, uncertain, and hard-to-perfect since that doesn't particularly lend itself to art and could land the artist in hot water/unemployment/worse). And it really is this push-pull between the Imperial and Soviet histories that creates a lot of the friction that makes for good reading.
However, it is very obvious that Morrison is not a dance writer, or even a dancer. His descriptions of dance steps or clarifications between the major evolutions of ballet (the introduction of blocked pointe shoes, for instance, or differences between French, Italian, Russian, Bournonville, Cechetti, and Vaganova styles) are muddled or stilted. The section discussing the struggles of Prokofiev, Shostokovitch, and Katchaturian - all major composers of the 20th century is extremely well-written and wonderful to read - Morrison is a professor of music and it shows. But in a book marketed as an inside look at the Bolshoi BALLET, there needed to be more about the actual dancing and dancers. A good read overall, but needed more.
Thank you to Net Galley.com for perusal of this book. Bolshoi Confidential opens with the acid thrown into Filin’s face in Moscow by a thug hired by a ballet dancer from the Bolshoi (and as I write this, Pavel has been released from prison in Russia after serving three years of a six year sentence)..., and it just gets grittier with each chapter (7 in all)..This was a quick read, and for anyone interested in Dance history..THIS IS the book to read. It’s loaded with Russian history, and all the drama at the Ballet...! And I do mean drama..from the ballet of the Tzars, affairs and all, through the Russian revolution, the fear of Lenin and Stalin, and the subjecting of artists..Prokofiev, Shostakovich, and others to brutal censorship and brutality. There is even a full chapter on Maya Plisetskaya, 60 wonderfully written pages all about her.. This book covers 240 years of Bolshoi history. The building has been bombed, burned and rebuilt a few times..Simon Morrison has done incredible research into the Bolshoi. Thank you to W.W. Norton and Company, Publishers..This is a terrific book..However, I would have loved to have read more about the famous dancers that came out of the Bolshoi in much more depth.
I am a ballet nut, I am also an expat living in Russia (which I love), we chose this book for our expat book club, this was going to be our read of the year, we were hanging out for this book, we talked about it for months before we read it, this was going to be it! And in the end, not a single one of us actually bothered to finish the book :(
Where oh where was the editor?? This book had so much potential, so many interesting facts, so much interesting history, it was fascinating the way that leading figures in the Russian dance, music and political worlds over the centuries all met in one place - at the Bolshoi, if only it had been laid out in a way that was actually readable, let alone enjoyable.
This is the first time in years I have not finished a book.
I think it would help to know more about ballet and like it more than I do. This history of the Bolshoi from 1776 touches on big moments in Russian history, linking to notable historical figures, but the focus is truly on ballet: the history of the art form in Russia and the particular history and important figures in the Bolshoi. It's a lively account--on stage and backstage--with a great deal of detail about the hall, the personalities and performers, ballet. Rich in anecdotes.
This starts with an acid attack, and circles back through the two hundred year history of the Bolshoi theater to explain, at least in part, why such a thing would happen--the thwarted ambitions, unhealthy relationships, and towering egos. And yet in the end the subtitle seems like puffery. There aren't that many juicy secrets here, but it does convey some of the artistic changes and challenges as the Bolshoi has experienced over the years.
I had really looked forward to reading this book. However, its contents is dry and, while full of info, largely unengaging, which is a shame for a book that takes a look at such colorful characters. The chronology is all over the place, so it's difficult to keep track of what time is being currently discussed--every time a new figure is introduced, we travel from the present to their past and back again, and their association with other people who have already been introduced (and whose timelines have already been given) is confusing. This book gives the history of Russian ballet a sickly pallor, and while indeed many bureaucratic, political, and interpersonal issues created problems within its workings, little of this book feels bright or triumphant. Once you get into the book, you kind of begin to doubt yourself because you had hoped for something else--the title, promising the revelation of "secrets" is tantalizing, no? But I'm not sure the intrigues and greed and petty competition actually warrant the title of "secrets."
Furthermore, this doesn't really feel like a history of ballet itself. It feels like a lot of little histories of people sewn together in patchwork without the creation of a cohesive story or coherent ideas that might have more successfully allowed the entire thing to hang together.
Fascinating, but a convoluted mess. The author feels like he's drowning under all the details and just trying to pull them all together to make a raft. He loses himself in details, track backs, he starts with something, wanders around lost in the forest of details for 20 pages, then comes back to that thing by the time you even forgot he started with it. It's a great feat of research work but it needs an editor and someone patient enough to put everything together in either a more linear way, or to untangle the gordian knot of detail and backtracking into something a bit more coherent.
That's not to say that you don't understand what happens or that the author is unclear, just that it could be better put. Overall I really enjoyed this because I'm a nosy bitch who loves drama but doesn't like being in it, and the Bolshoi offers plenty of that.
This is a very deep dive for the balletomane who wants to know what all the documents said. I admit to skimming quite a bit since I enjoy ballet strictly as an occasional viewer. This book needed heavy supplementation on my part to get the gist. It was pretty interesting to read how the institution of the Bolshoi has managed to hang together since the time of Catherine the Great, when you consider all else that has happened - right up to the present moment and the anticipated decline in appreciation of the art.
Albeit this book was evidently well research, I feel that as someone who closely follows—and greatly admires—the Bolshoi Ballet, I cannot fully support something that was created as an effort to cash in on the infamous acid attack incident on its ballet director, Sergei Filin in 2013.
First off, I went into this book really intrigued, for Simon Morrison had listed the names of some of my favourite dancers in the notes, at the back. Seeing Olga Smirnova, Svetlana Lunkina, and Nikolai Tsiskaridze… well, I thought the book was going to shed a little light on their views and opinions of the incident, because these three dancers are all on different sides of the fence. However, Morrison has just used the acid attack as a hook. Other than the prologue, the entire book was on the history of the theatre, which I didn’t mind—had it been well written.
Morrison has obviously done a great deal of digging to compile all the information, starting from the ignoble beginning of the Bolshoi all the way to the theatre becoming the crown jewel of the Soviet Union and its successor. This is why I decided to give this book 2 stars instead of 1. However, other than the effort I could see that’d gone into this book, there isn’t really any other reason to bump up the ratings.
The way Morrison wrote the history is very confusing. It twists and turns and it reads not like a Princeton University professor’s writing, but perhaps a high school student’s. Maybe it was just me but I found his style quite verbose and from time to time, my mind would wander as I was reading a paragraph until I was skimming and thinking of something else entirely. Not good.
All in all, this book had potential. It really did. Had it not used the acid attack as a hook, had the writing been structured a different way. Now, to end this review off, a beautiful GIF of Olga Smirnova.
Informative, but reads dry like a first draft. Often, sentences are constructed from fragmented quotes of other texts. Would loved to have more political opinion from the author rather than paragraphs of description regarding the dancing and music, given the premise of the book is examining the Bolshoi as a foray into Russia’s history.
Simon Morrison has done absolutely magnificent work. This is a heavyweight insight to Moscow ballet history. Embracing also St Petersburg related stakeholders. He really has deep understanding of history and also current "affairs".
This book was a well researched, interesting dive into the history of the Bolshoi Ballet and all of the intrigues, politics, and scandals that have followed the theater since its founding in 1776. While I enjoyed the book and felt that I was able to learn a great deal about the history of the theater, I feel that much of the structure of the book could have been improved.
Often, the author would jump forwards and backwards in time, making it difficult to follow what was occurring when. Stories about multiple characters would become jumbled together in an ever-changing timeline. The length of the chapters made the content in them feel quite disjointed and I feel that if the chapters had been better structured, the jumps in timeline would have made much more sense. Unfortunately, the book tried to be chronological, and I feel it would have been better served grouping the history by themes, allowing one chapter to be devoted to the primas or choreographers while another dove into the politics and finally one discussed the scandals.
All in all, I enjoyed the book immensely and would recommend it to friends. It gives a good glimpse into what can be a bit of an enigma: Russian Ballet.
This is a remarkably researched, sophisticated story of the tumultuous history of the iconic Bolshoi.
It is a journey through its 240-year history, complete with an in-depth look into the scandals, corruption, damage, destruction, violence, and restorations that it has endured over the years, as well as an introduction to the characters that have played an important role its enduring successes and failures, including Tsars, politicians, dancers, directors, composers and choreographers.
This is, ultimately, an expository story about the creation and production of one of the most beautiful art forms the world has ever known, complete with the shady and gritty underworld that plagues its backstage.
Overall, this novel is incredibly descriptive, effortlessly fluid, and highly fascinating.
Thank you to NetGalley, especially Penguin Random House Canada, for providing me with a copy in exchange for an honest review.
I really enjoyed reading about the history of this amazing ballet company but I was struck by something as I did. Of all of the dancers we think of as legends, Nijinsky, Nureyev, Baryshnikov, Pavlova, Makarova, not one danced for the Bolshoi. Yes, Misha was dancing for them when he defected but it was only as a guest artist. All of these greats danced for the Mariinsky/Kirov or the Ballets Russes. Even the great choreographers, Petipa, Diaghilev, Balanchine and Fokine only did the occasional piece for the Bolshoi but worked almost exclusively for the Mariinsky/Kirov or the Ballets Russes.
Realizing this makes me wonder exactly why the Bolshoi is the company that has captured our imaginations rather than the Kirov. It's fascinating.
From 10/10/16 Christian Science Monitor: "Morrison, who is a professor of music at Princeton University, gives the Bolshoi a first-rate historical treatment. Thoroughly scholarly and simultaneously astute and clear-voiced, he sometimes has to carry out what seems like archeology to discover how the business and the art of the Bolshoi proceeded."
If Russia and the Bolshoi hold any degree of fascination for you, I expect you'll enjoy this book as much as I did. If not, I'm not sure it'll resonate. But maybe! Morrison is a solid, snappy sort of writer and does a wonderful job here of breaking down the density of the subject matter and giving the Bolshoi the compelling narrative it deserves. A solid 4 stars.
Often secretive Always stunning The Bolshoi has been one of the premier ballet companies for decades Now we go behind the curtain to uncover her secrets
A dance-loving friend lent me this some months ago and it took me a while to get round to it, and then a while to read it. As so often happens, I have little memory of the names of the people whose stories Simon Morrison tells, but I have a general impression of the history and the pressures of life within with company.
Morrison opens the Bolshoi story from its rather tawdry 18th century beginnings with a sentence that foreshadows much of what is to come over the next 400+ pages : From the start, the Bolshoi theatre was rife with political and financial intrigue.
My most powerful memories from this book are the chronic, often paralysing, political interventions into the creative works of choreographers, composers and artistic directors - into the content, style and structure of the works themselves during their composition, and then the critical question of whether the performance of a finished work would be approved for performance.
The dancers were often treated appallingly. The story of one young woman who died after being raped by a Grand Duke and nine of his acquaintance is one I will remember with horror forever, I think.
Favoritism was rife under the Tsarist and Communist regimes, depending with the times on sexual relationships and perceived political reliability.
I'm left with wonderment at the drive to dance which impelled, and still impels, children and young people to commit to such a hard life.
Here is the GR blurb about the author: Simon Morrison is Professor of Music History at Princeton, where he earned his PhD in musicology. A leading authority on composer Serge Prokofiev, he is the author of The People's Artist, along with numerous scholarly articles, and features for the New York Times. In 2011, Morrison was awarded a Guggenheim Fellowship.
And here is the GR blurb about the book: On a freezing night in January 2013, a hooded assailant hurled acid in the face of the artistic director of the Bolshoi Ballet. The crime, organized by a lead soloist, dragged one of Russia’s most illustrious institutions into scandal. The Bolshoi Theater had been a crown jewel during the reign of the tsars and an emblem of Soviet power throughout the twentieth century. Under Putin in the twenty-first century, it has been called on to preserve a priceless artistic legacy and mirror Russia’s neo-imperial ambitions. The attack and its torrid aftermath underscored the importance of the Bolshoi to the art of ballet, to Russia, and to the world.
The acid attack resonated far beyond the world of ballet, both into Russia’s political infrastructure and, as renowned musicologist Simon Morrison shows in his tour-de-force account, the very core of the Bolshoi’s unparalleled history. With exclusive access to state archives and private sources, Morrison sweeps us through the history of the storied ballet, describing the careers of those onstage as well as off, tracing the political ties that bind the institution to the varying Russian regimes, and detailing the birth of some of the best-loved ballets in the repertoire.
From its disreputable beginnings in 1776 at the hand of a Faustian charlatan, the Bolshoi became a point of pride for the tsarist empire after the defeat of Napoleon in 1812. After the revolution, Moscow was transformed from a merchant town to a global capital, its theater becoming a key site of power. Meetings of the Communist Party were hosted at the Bolshoi, and the Soviet Union was signed into existence on its stage. During the Soviet years, artists struggled with corrosive censorship, while ballet joined chess tournaments and space exploration as points of national pride and Cold War contest. Recently, a $680 million restoration has restored the Bolshoi to its former glory, even as prized talent has departed.
As Morrison reveals in lush and insightful prose, the theater has been bombed, rigged with explosives, and reinforced with cement. Its dancers have suffered unimaginable physical torment to climb the ranks, sometimes for so little money that they kept cows at home whose milk they could sell for food. But the Bolshoi has transcended its own fraught history, surviving 250 years of artistic and political upheaval to define not only Russian culture but also ballet itself. In this sweeping, definitive account, Morrison demonstrates once and for all that, as Russia goes, so goes the Bolshoi Ballet.
Quite a nice and detailed history of the Bolshoi, focusing mainly on ballet but with some information about the opera as well. A good deal of Russian history thrown into the mix helps the reader to understand the effect world and national events had on the artists.
One big disappointment. I was hoping for a lot more information on the dancers. While Morrison provided a good bit of detail regarding the lives of artistic directors, composers, conductors and choreographers, very little information was given regarding the dancers in the Bolshoi company. The one exception is Maya Plisetskaya, probably because the author was able to reference quite a bit of material from her autobiography. Any high hopes I had of getting a more nuanced portrait of, say, Natalia Bessmertnova (one of my all-time favorites along with Margarita Kullik, a Kirov ballerina) went for naught. I think he mentioned Bessmertnova, a prima ballerina for many years with the Bolshoi, in about two short sentences. I got absolutely no sense of her as a person. By contrast, the personality, etc. of her husband, Yuri Grigorevich, one of the Bolshoi's ballet masters, is gone over in great detail, though excluding his marriage to Bessmertnova. Strange oversight and very disappointing.
I did like how the political climate, et al, was weaved throughout the narrative, giving decent insight into the way the Bolshoi was formed and evolved.
A good overview of the Bolshoi Ballet from it's founding to today. It especially got interesting when the Bolshevik Relvolution happened and the ballet became dedicated to a wing of Soviet Propaganda ganda. The book did bounce around a bit too much for my taste and somehow the stretch between like 1920 to 1950 passed in what felt like 5 pages, but I enjoyed it.
I do think I was hoping for something a little bit more intimate in terms of the daily experiences of the average dancers within the Bolshoi and it would have been wonderful to have more opportunities to look at it with a closer lense rather than general history or a few of the biggest players within it. I never felt like I knew any of the figures represented intimately, but it certainly made me interested in learning more. I cannot entirely blame the author though as it is probably difficult to find sources from which to draw when you are basing a history through the lenses of ballet, but I mean at the same time that's the job of the historian to complile those resources and present them in a compelling way.
A good general history and starting point but outside of some details and annecdotes I don't feel like my knowledge of the subject was overall greatly enhanced, more just like supplemented. I have read ballet and dance written with more passion, life, and intensity but this entirely passes and is adequate.
While I still enjoyed this book to some extent, it simply was not the book I was hoping for. The vast majority of this book was focused on the roles of the administrators in charge of managing the Bolshoi and the lives/work of its many composers and artistic directors. While their contributions were important and interesting, I was hoping to learn a great deal more about the training and lives of the ballerinas, ESPECIALLY since so many legends have come from this stage. Some of the greatest stars to come out of Russia are mentioned in mere passing, which was deeply disappointing. However, Morrison did do an incredible amount of research on those he did write about, and the level of detail was astounding.
Beyond the content itself, this book's greatest issues is the lack of chronological (or just logical) presentation of events. Adjoining paragraphs jump back and forth in time, sometimes by years, in ways that make following the progression of artistic development and people's careers almost impossible. While I can see that some of this is a result of the author's desire to make comparisons and provide thoughtful analyses of the relationships between events, the mixing of timelines prevented me from fully comprehending what Morrison was trying to point out.
I definitely learned many interesting things about the Bolshoi and its composers as an institution, the next ballet book I pick up will have a much more explicit focus on the ballerinas themselves.
The history of the Bolshoi definitely deserves a comprehensive history. The subject matter is utterly fascinating and an institution that has survived from Catherine the Great, through the Russian Revolution and Stalinist purges through to the modern day definitely has some stories to tell and some truly compelling characters worthy of books of their own.
Morrison's background as a music professor specializing in Soviet music gives him more than enough academic cred to tell this story. Unfortunately, his passion for the topic occasionally causes him to geek out over musical technicalities at the expense of the compelling (often with soap opera–level drama) story of the Bolshoi, so if you don't have a graduate degree in music history (I sure don't), it can be hard not to get bogged down a little bit, especially in the Soviet era portion of the book.
Still, it's such a good story that it's worth making your way through the trickier technical passages. Morrison has a good ear for quotable moments, and dance critics have a particular flair for the intentionally dramatic but unintentionally hilarious. I did not expect to find laugh-out-loud funny moments in a book about the history of a ballet company, but here they are.
The author gives his Russian assistant a big acknowledgment for trawling through the Bolshoi archives for whinging memos and correspondence which flesh out the chronicle but I could have done without the Professor of Music’s lengthy analysis of various twentieth century compositions by Bolshoi collaborators and his deconstruction of a tangled web of ballets which never made it to the stage or did make it fleetingly on their way to the dustbin. The role of the Bolshoi as a tool of the Soviet state is well known of course but the international political dimension post-Stalin isn’t fully explored here; no mention of their first tour to Paris being cancelled in 1954 nor of the cancellation of the Royal Ballet’s reciprocal tour to the Bolshoi because of the invasion of Hungary in 1956 nor ballet star defections to the West before perestroika (and to other Russian companies after). It would also have been worth revealing the administration standards of the Bolshoi are so poor they brought moths with their costumes to the Royal Opera House - no doubt someone in Moscow pocketed the pest control budget, plus ca change.
After finishing this book I have somewhat mixed feelings. I obviously liked it, otherwise why would I give it 4 stars?, but it did have flaws. The problem is I find it difficult to put my finger on exactly what those flaws were. As such, this review may not be the most coherent, or well argued, you've ever read. Let's start with the 'flaws.'
As already mentioned, I find it hard to nail down exactly what the biggest flaws were. The main reason I feel there must have been flaws is because I did not love this book and it took me longer than usual to finish it. As I think about why this may be so what I come up with are not so much flaws but rather personal preferences on the readers part (me).
Personally I love history and Russian history in particular. I also love Russians authors, in particular 19th century authors. As a pure history book 'Bolshoi' is not brilliant, but it doesn't claim to be a pure history book. Also, as a pure ballet book I think it would also disappoint, even though my knowledge of ballet is limited to seeing one live performance of Giselle. Due to this lack of knowledge I found myself at times wandering off mentally as I did not wish to continuously check dictionary.com for clarification of terms. Thus, I think the combination of the book not completely meeting my yen for Russian history combined with my limited understanding of ballet, lead to my somewhat contradictory feeling of enjoying the book but really not loving it.
So, what did I like? I loved the way the author intertwines the political history of the country with the Bolshoi. In this sense I feel he delivered on the promise of the cover notes. And ultimately, I believe this is what he was endeavouring to achieve. As such, I think it deserves 4 stars. In reality the major figures addressed, such as Lenin, Stalin, Brezhnev, the Tsars, Tsaikovsky, Prokofiev, etc, were involved in far more than the goings on at the Bolshoi, but here we see a snapshot of how they were involved and how the Bolshoi, for over 200 years, has played a significant part in past, present and imagined future of the Russian nation.
Lastly, I think for those interested in Russian history the book can serve as a good jumping off point. Whether it's the Napoleonic war, The Bolshevik revolution, the Thaw, or any other number of significant happenings, 'Bolshoi' can serve as a good introduction and inspiration for further study and reading.
One final note I will make on the negative side is that the book did not heighten my interest in Russian Ballet. If anything it decreased my interest as I felt it was portrayed as artistically and creatively compromised, especially after the Tsars. While the Russian's physical prowess and pure power was certainly illustrated, ballet is so much more than that and I was left with a feeling that the authors passion for Russian ballet was more directed at its complicated history rather than the beauty of its product.
Well, as I said, I really enjoyed the book, but I did not love it and it took me longer than usual to read it. Take that as you wish. A very interesting read and a more than adequate escape tool into the intrigues of Russian history, politics and art.