Friday, 17 June 2011
The Lovely Son is attending his first ever ballet tonight at the O2 Arena. Somehow, despite my best efforts to instil some kulcher into his early years, we never managed to get to such an event* when he was growing up. Well, we were poor, and we lived in a backwater and read and re-read books instead.
(*...although once, when he was a very small boy, he watched male ballet dancers on our black and white tv, and, quite scandalised, insisted that "those men have got bare bottoms!")
He is being taken to see this most splendid of ballets by his girlfriend C. He texted me to ask "What is happening to me?". Lurve, dear boy; the civilising influence of a woman, although the signs were already there some time ago as he shopped willingly with me for nicer bedding and crockery for his flat.
C texted me too, to say that he seemed "rather resistant, ha ha". Personally, I think he will be drawn into the magic of it all, the powerful interpretation of the familiar story, the sheer physicality that eludes you if you watch ballet on film or television, the absence of tutus, feathers and fairytale characters, and the impressive fight scenes. It's a splendid introduction to ballet, and I think he is going to love it.
And anyway, She will be with him. Resistance is futile.
Posted by rachel at 21:50