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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

dorianegray
Feb. 15th, 2006 10:23 pm (UTC)
The mind boggles. ::boggleboggleboggle:: Jeez, it's bad enough when outlanders do things like this, but you'd think natives would have more sense of national dignity.

(And, I am extraordinarily envious of you having got to go to ballet classes, because I always wanted to learn ballet (exposure to ballet stories at an impressionable age) but never got to.)
microgirl
Feb. 15th, 2006 10:31 pm (UTC)
There's adult beginner's ballet classes in the International Dance Academy (or whatever) on Ormonde Quay.
dorianegray
Feb. 15th, 2006 10:51 pm (UTC)
::blink:: Surely proper "turn-out" cannot be achieved if starting in adulthood? (Or at least, not without more pain than I'm prepared to go in for!)
microgirl
Feb. 15th, 2006 10:56 pm (UTC)
Ok, well it's obviously not designed for those wanting to become professionals :P

And I was going to say turn out isn't all that hard, it's not like it has to be 180degs or anything, but I forgot I did ballet from 6 to 18 :) Admittedly now that I've been away from ballet as long as I was there I find turn-out harder, but like any kind of stretching it increases gradually. You're not expected to do it straight off. It's no different to yoga.
clanwilliam
Feb. 15th, 2006 11:21 pm (UTC)
In fact, my one experience with yoga was far more traumatic because I'd been doing adult ballet for a couple of years and my balance was firmly focused on my turnout. So when the nasty little git of a yoga teacher yelled at me and forced my feet together (and yes, he knew I was coming from a ballet background), I had a rather horrible time worried that I was going to injure a muscle.

Never went to another yoga class.

The only other tip I can give is that you should never get off a horse and go to a ballet class. While it is a superb way of guaranteeing you get your own corner in the dressing room, as your classmates look dubiously at the whip hanging out of your bag and try not to comment on the smell of your breeches, you really Will Not be able to walk the next day.

I promise.
microgirl
Feb. 16th, 2006 07:47 am (UTC)
Ow ow ow ow ow ow ow! Why, whyyyyyyy did you do that?

I've only been on a horse once or twice and was only ever the most amateur of ballet students, but my legs are cramping just thinking about it! *whimper*

And I didn't mean to imply that ballet and yoga were the same, or even capable of mixing (yeah, even now standing with my feet together is counter-intuitive), I was just using an example of something that requires muscle strength and flexibility and bizarre positions that people don't usually start until they're much older.

Pilates the same. Or rock-climbing. Or martial arts. Nothing anywhere says you have to be 6 to start these things :)

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