I had to stop reading this book. It was too painful. The author is/was a famous ballerina, who was emotionally and, arguably, physically abused by George Balanchine, the founder of her ballet company and American ballet as we know it actually. I thought it would be fun to read about her stories of being a ballerina. Boy, was I wrong! I had to stop because it was causing me pain to read about the things she had to do for ballet, some of which was also brought on by her own mental issues. When she asked Balanchine to help her with her significant physical pain (at the age of, I believe, 17!), he pooh poohed it and told her to drink red wine. What? Before I became a mom, I possibly could have read this book. The abuse she underwent would have been something I could have compartmentalized. But all I could see and feel was an abused girl (being treated as a sophisticated woman). Even if only a fraction of what she says is true, she was a pawn in the world of "ballet" as Balanchine has created it for us. Imagine reading a book that makes you feel ill about something you love and find beautiful, that, in fact, the man who created the version of that thing, as you know it, was doing shortcuts, dumbing things down, not doing the proper version of it because he wanted to ram it down our throats and make money. Now imagine that he put his staff through physical torture deliberately. I don't know if I can ever see ballet again. I had to stop. It was truly interesting though to read this book after reading 2 other novels about ballerinas. I can see exactly where the other authors obtained some of their ideas from for their books, both because they probably lived it and because Ms. Kirkland lived it. I might have been able to keep going except that Ms. Kirkland had so much venom for Balanchine, who was her boss for the portion of the book I read, that the reading was feeling toxic to me. Balanchine even played Ms. Kirkland against her sister, and she, herself, played along. I couldn't help but feeling I had been recruited, unknowingly, into being Ms. Kirkland's therapist (and not a good one at that). When this book originally was published, it was before internet and the cable news era so perhaps it was less jarring of a read when not also accompanied by the daily bad news that we cannot escape from in the internet age. If you want to continue to like ballet, then don't read this book.