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Words fail me.

Oh, wait, they totally don't. GOOD SWEET JESUS, WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON THERE? Liffey Rivers? LIFFEY RIVERS? It's hilariously bad, all right, but really, just the thought that someone (even fictional people) could name their child after a river that smells like fish-scented poo makes me want to burst into tears. And look at her. LOOK AT HER! The real mystery in this "girl detective" novel is the origin of Liffey Rivers. I think she was created in a terrifying laboratory by evil scientists intent on taking over the world with an army of freakish plastic-haired mutants. And as for the story...
Now the legions of Irish dancers have their very own heroine:

Liffey Rivers
Irish Dancer - Girl Detective

who manges to foil a sophisticated criminal plot, dance her soft shoe jig and even prevent a possible war-- all during ONE day at the Celtic Arch Feis in St. Louis where Liffey is determined to win her first gold medal and earn her first solo dress...

My mother was always adamantly against Irish dancing because, as she said, "you win a medal every time you learn a new step". So like the good little artsy middle class brats we were, we went to ballet lessons from the age of four, and later some of us went to tap classes, including me because I was a repellent show off whose dream was to star in musicals (which I never did, alas, although I did dance on the Olympia and Gaiety stages and can still tap dance quite well). I never had the slightest desire to learn Irish dancing, because apart from set dancing (which rocks, and which can be witnessed in a Jane Austen adaptation near you as many of the dances are the same, although ours are a bit livelier), I thought it looked crap and the ringlets were hideous and yes, you apparently got a medal for learning to tie the laces of your dancing shoes. I wanted to be a ballerina or a musical theatre sensation. And now I see that my mother and I have been proved right. Because frankly, if Liffey Rivers (even typing the name makes me snigger) is a heroine for Irish dancers, then their standards are pretty low. I mean, us tap dancers had Fred Astaire...

ETA: OH MY GOD THERE IS A LIFFEY RIVERS SHOP SELLING T-SHIRTS. Words really do fail me this time.

By the way, blame barsine for the damage done to your eyes by the sight of Liffey - she sent me the link!

Comments

stellanova
Feb. 15th, 2006 10:20 pm (UTC)
But the covers must have been better, at least! All my Sadler's Wells books have rather stylish '80s oil pastels....
(Deleted comment)
clanwilliam
Feb. 15th, 2006 10:29 pm (UTC)
The later ones are even better! Complete and utter Cinderella fantasies!
(Deleted comment)
barsine
Feb. 16th, 2006 01:58 pm (UTC)
My favourite one is about Nona, the girl with a harelip who dances so beautifully IN A MASK (or veil, possibly), like the Phantom of the Opera, that they have to give her the part she wants, despite her face (which a skilled surgeon fixes in the final chapter).

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stellanova
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