Super-Special 15 - Baby-sitters European Vacation - Snark of Jessi's plot
Is a one-theme-within-a-book snark an acceptable snark? I've just read Super-Special 15 - Baby-sitters European Vacation, and while a lot of it was worthy of snarking (Kristy "acting a character" and snuggling up to a boy (and deciding that, if you can't work out how to say "I kinda like you", kissing him is a pretty good way of cluing him in - and isn't taking advice from Stacey over this); a teacher who forgets that when you're one of three chaperones of a school group which seems to encompass most of the 8th grade and at least two 6th-graders, it is not acceptable to act like a flake and wander off because LONDON; three camp counsellors needing to physically wrestle a small boy into a building during a thunderstorm because they're not "his" group's counsellor so he doesn't need to listen and he wants to play in the mud under a lone tree, and lightning's COOL; Abby managing to apparently get into a secured area and trample "prince whatshisname - the one who's always with the Queen" foot accidentally - and the photo to accompany it which shows a young, dark-haired man (it might conceivably be Prince Andrew... I'm pretty certain that Prince Philip, her husband, would have been her primary consort in 1998, when the book was written, however, rather than her second son!); Stacey's mother trying to reassure her that the outfit she has is expensive and therefore acceptable...), I particularly want to snark the Jessi plot.
"Oops. Screamed again." This is a quote from Jessi's entry in her first "I know I'm writing in our holiday journal before our holiday, but I'm so excited I'm shrieking like a banshee and acting about as hyperactive as four-year-old Allie Brosch on cake" entry. She's a teeny bit excited because she's going on a school trip to London and Paris (SMS and a Canadian school they're going to meet in London). Aunt Celia tries to suggest she stop because she'll make Becca jealous. As Becca's keyed up with contagious excitement and getting a bit silly herself, Jessi's not buying this. That her aunt wants her to just shut up and pack quietly and is trying to be tactful because she doesn't want to treat the 11-year-old like a baby by telling her to exercise some frickin' self-control does not occur to Jessi.
Prequel take two involves onomatopoeic mutual screaming down the phone at the "best friend like a sister who she hadn't spoken to in weeks". This being her other best friend like a sister - not Mal - Maritza, from the full-time dance school connected to a company in New York which wanted Jessi to join but which she's postponed because how could she possibly move to NYC and leave the BSC? Anyways, it turns out that the company (Dance NY) was also going to London. I roll my eyes at the quote "My dance company - the group I trained with, the group I was invited to join - was going to be with me on my vacation!" Honey, if you don't actually join it, it's not yours. From what she's saying, she was also asked to join the company, so she'd be in the school by default, rather than the school with the aim that she'll move into the company when she leaves the school... OK, then.
We also have a really odd virtual BSC meeting, character introduction and recap from Jessi. It's still part of the prequel, and I think the idea is to explain how absolutely amazing her group of friends is. Even with quotes like "Mal and I are junior officers. We’re the only sixth-graders among thirteen-year-old eighth graders, so it’s kind of an honor to be included. Not that anyone ever says that. We treat each other as equals." I know there were points the younger two were a bit intimidated by the older girls, and e.g. weren't potential nominees when nobody wanted to do their title jobs although they got to vote, lucky them, but I'd have thought by this point they'd have got past that and that this wouldn't be worth mentioning? Evidently not.
If I was going to meet the Dance NY kids and see Mr. Brailsford, I'd better stay in shape.
A few hours of practice in hotel rooms wouldn't hurt.
This is important. One would also have thought she would have intended to do this anyway, what with ballet being her life, her passion, her raison d'etre, and all...
Especially as in the next Jessi chapter, Chapter 9, when she, the other BSC members who went on the trip (Kristy, Stacey, Abby and Mallory) and Stacey's mother go to watch Dance NY perform, all she can think of is that if she'd taken up the offer of the place, she'd be backstage, warming up, feeling the excitement of the audience imbue her very being...
Kristy plays the part of the philistine once again (honestly, this book seems to dislike her more than Mal! Mallory gets to be a very distant descendant of Shakespeare...) but says that she should learn to like "this stuff" because one day if Jessi makes it big, then she'll have to come see it. (No escape. One of us. One of us...) Apparently nobody other than her family knows she was offered the place at Dance NY. Jessi doesn't want her friends - those ones she loves so much she can't bear to leave the Brook - to think she's crazy for not taking up the chance to pursue her dreams full time, or to second-guess her decision. This strikes me as super-healthy. Abby is the one who's actually accused of being a philistine, however, for comparing the inside of the Barbican to the Washington Mall.
Jessi's other friend-like-a-sister's sister, who arranged the tickets, calls her name. Jessi screams. She screams. I don't scream because it's too cold for ice cream. They both scream more, because that's totally acceptable behaviour at a theatre. Even if it is still only almost half an hour until curtains up, the place is milling with people... Tanisha, her big sister by friendship, once removed, takes her off to go backstage. They actually get Mrs McGill's permission. This isn't the most unbelievable part of what happens.
Jessi gets hugs from one of her friends. Some of Tanisha's friends also remember her. The head of the dance company - who is apparently famous - greets her with "Well, if it isn't my prima ballerina Jessica Ramsey!" (At the end, I discuss why him calling her this is ludicrous. For now, we'll concentrate on him announcing in front of a good chunk of his company that somebody who hasn't even joined them, and doesn't dance professionally, is "his" star? This seems like something that the members of his company wouldn't mind learning like this... Oh, wait.) He's very pleased to see her and asks her to come back afterwards to give them notes. While constructive feedback plays its part, and as an audience member she'd have a different perspective to that from the wings, I'm not convinced most professionals would take kindly to being critiqued by an 11-year-old.
Tanisha starts to lead Jessi back out when they hear a loud scream. It hurts Jessi's ears. Diddums. One of the younger corps members sprained her ankle and won't be able to go on tonight. The understudy (and I assume if she's in the corps that this is somebody who can step in and take anybody in the corps's place?) has food poisoning. The head of the company mentally goes over what this will mean for tonight's show. One of the dances can be very minorly tweaked and carry on without her. She's not in another. The third - which just happens to be the one that Jessi learnt when she was there - however, relies on symmetry and it wouldn't work without her. It would need to be cancelled unless... Jessi is in a bit of a state of shock, but nods that she remembers it without the aid of conscious thought. She agrees to step in with about as much mental input - it's the first word out of her mouth.
We'll ignore the implications of a child under the age of 13 performing without a license, without their parents' permission, without a work permit given she's in the country on a holiday, etc. She's not getting paid, so technically she's a volunteer, I guess, and the laws probably don't count in quite the same way?
She's very quickly measured up for a costume, then whisked off to a practice room while Tanisha goes to let the cult and chaperone know what's going on. Apparently Jessi is doing a solo practice for a dance which relies on symmetry, takes the whole corps, and includes lifts. I *headdesk*. I am however rather amused by the lines:
"That's it, Jessica," Mr. Brailsford said. "But on the beat, on beat..."
I was rusty. I hadn't even pliéd for nearly a week.
(a) Because timing is incidental in dance.
(b) So much for bringing your practice stuff to Europe with you...
(c) Did you know that paying attention to the music and moving in time with it is a specific thing dancers practice, in exactly the same way as pliés? (In fairness, one of the many reasons I never had dreams of making it as a dancer was because I am really unmusical and can find it hard to pick out the beat; however, I'm pretty certain that there are very few good dancers who don't instinctively pick up on and move with the rhythm...)
Presumably the practice sessions lasts through the first two dances, and she doesn't even get the chance to watch them from the wings. Which sort of makes sense, coz she'd need a fair bit of drilling - she's not done this dance for months, and she's been put on the spot. She's really nervous - so nervous she can't remember how the dance starts, waiting for the curtain to go up. I really hope it's not en pointe (not only because she almost definitely wouldn't have been carrying her shoes to the theatre with her):
My legs sprang forward. As if the dance were part of me. As if I’d done it a million times.
But this was different than I remembered. Higher. Taller dancers. Bigger lifts from stronger arms.
I landed too hard. I slipped on a pirouette.
But I kept going. Position to position. Beat to beat.
But when I finally stopped, my heart felt as if it had ripped itself wide open. I was gasping.
It was over.
Not perfect. But I’d done it.
It doesn't sound like she was perfectly balanced or controlled in her movements. She wouldn't be safe. There is a photo, presumably of her and Tanisha, and it looks like they're in flat slippers instead. (Also, Tanisha looks more muscular than twiglety - which is quite nice, actually, and if it is a contemporary company which involves lots of other dance styles into its ballets, maybe that's feasible? I'm not sure.) Because they are clearly consummate professionals,
Tanisha and I burst into the green room [the backstage area for the dancers to hang out], shrieking.
The rest of the company (the ones who weren't in the next number) crowded around me, hugging me, congratulating me.
Mr. Brailsford was already there.
"Was I okay?" I asked.
He lifted me up. "Jessica, I am so proud of you!"
As he spun me around, the other dancers gathered in a circle and applauded.
I was crying.
But you know what? He was too.
That, I think, was the best part of the whole evening.
This... isn't weird at all. It's not like you need to keep it down backstage because people are busy, lots of cues are sound-based, people get concerned when people start screaming... Also, I can see him being pleased she stepped in. I can see him thanking her. I'm not entirely comfortable with his OTT physical response, or the fact that he doesn't comment at all on the fact that she made some mistakes (even if it's just an "Of course, if you come join us, you'll have a lot more practice with the company before performing, and we'll be able to get all of the moves really tight, but you did a great job under the circumstances").
Abby has the next chapter and tells us that Jessi is amazeballs, and that the performance was taped so the BSC can bathe her in admiration later on, too.
Jessi's next chapter is Chapter 17. Anybody ever heard of putting a sprained ankle in a cast? Apparently Ann (or, more likely, ghostie) thinks this is appropriate treatment. Also, within a few months of a serious sprain, you can dance professionally again. It'll be completely recovered by then... *cough*Bullshit*cough*
This is relevant because Tanisha, the girl who sprained her ankle and was replaced by Jessi, several other members of the dance company, "[a]nd in the midst of them was David Brailsford". They'd come to say goodbye, as the BSC and co were moving on to Paris that day, and Mr Brailsford wanted to present Jessi with a ballet shoe trophy "[f]or services rendered above and beyond the call of duty". Totally warranted, and believable, that...
Abby, Kristy, Stacey, and Mal were all standing there, smiling proudly (look what they did! They befriended somebody with talent! They may bathe in reflected glory!); other people were trying to work out what was going on... Somebody - probably Kristy - starts a round of applause. There is also this gem of weirdness, as the dancers take their leave:
"Hope to see you soon!" Mr. Brailsford called out.
"Me too!" I replied.
I meant it. I hoped he did too.
O...K...?
Jessi gets the chance to brag to girls from the Canadian school who recognised David Brailsford. (He's David Brailsford! She takes dance lessons - like she wouldn't know who he was, pfft!)
Jessi next pops up in a Mallory chapter (Chapter 21), when she's the voice of reason, encouraging Mal to engage with the real world and actually pay attention to the places they're seeing. Like the Bastille, the Cathedral of Notre Dame... Places steeped in history. Mal is busily writing a story she's had the idea for, instead, and really isn't with it. Jessi points out that as a non-writer, going around the Bastille, she had at least a dozen story ideas. Mal is eventually persuaded to join reality and put the story she's writing down. Oh that Jessi, voice of reason and rationality...
The next thing to give you is a transcription of a letter to Jessi in the Epiologue.
Dearest Jessica!
I know I can't have you in my permanent company yet.
How about a compromise?
Would you dance in our production of the Nutcracker?
Let me know ASAP.
We can work out a weekend rehearsal schedule.
Best to your parents.
- David Brailsford.
Honestly, maybe it's not Jessi's fault she thinks she's all that..? Unfortunately, the most logical explanation I can think of for his interest in her is that she's being groomed - and not so much for stardom... I'm pretty certain he's not supposed to give off creeper vibes, but as far as I can work out she's very good for her age and shows promise that she will be able to make it as an adult, with dedication, bar injuries, and assuming she doesn't grow too tall/her body shape doesn't change too much. There are thousands, if not tens of thousands, of other kids around her age who'll be in the same camp. Most of those who'll make it will never be anything other than corps dancers. There's a hierarchy above that - a dozen or so are likely to make it to better things. All of the prima ballerinas can be listed easily enough on one page - these are internationally recognised stars. There have been 12 Prima ballerina assolutas ever named. He's coming on pretty strongly, under those circumstances, and had absolutely no right to call her a prima ballerina. He's telling her that, at 11 years of age, he ranks her up there with Darcey Bussell. WHAT?
On a completely different note, because Mrs McGill had a decent presence in this book, I spent much of it mentally listening to this song...
"Oops. Screamed again." This is a quote from Jessi's entry in her first "I know I'm writing in our holiday journal before our holiday, but I'm so excited I'm shrieking like a banshee and acting about as hyperactive as four-year-old Allie Brosch on cake" entry. She's a teeny bit excited because she's going on a school trip to London and Paris (SMS and a Canadian school they're going to meet in London). Aunt Celia tries to suggest she stop because she'll make Becca jealous. As Becca's keyed up with contagious excitement and getting a bit silly herself, Jessi's not buying this. That her aunt wants her to just shut up and pack quietly and is trying to be tactful because she doesn't want to treat the 11-year-old like a baby by telling her to exercise some frickin' self-control does not occur to Jessi.
Prequel take two involves onomatopoeic mutual screaming down the phone at the "best friend like a sister who she hadn't spoken to in weeks". This being her other best friend like a sister - not Mal - Maritza, from the full-time dance school connected to a company in New York which wanted Jessi to join but which she's postponed because how could she possibly move to NYC and leave the BSC? Anyways, it turns out that the company (Dance NY) was also going to London. I roll my eyes at the quote "My dance company - the group I trained with, the group I was invited to join - was going to be with me on my vacation!" Honey, if you don't actually join it, it's not yours. From what she's saying, she was also asked to join the company, so she'd be in the school by default, rather than the school with the aim that she'll move into the company when she leaves the school... OK, then.
We also have a really odd virtual BSC meeting, character introduction and recap from Jessi. It's still part of the prequel, and I think the idea is to explain how absolutely amazing her group of friends is. Even with quotes like "Mal and I are junior officers. We’re the only sixth-graders among thirteen-year-old eighth graders, so it’s kind of an honor to be included. Not that anyone ever says that. We treat each other as equals." I know there were points the younger two were a bit intimidated by the older girls, and e.g. weren't potential nominees when nobody wanted to do their title jobs although they got to vote, lucky them, but I'd have thought by this point they'd have got past that and that this wouldn't be worth mentioning? Evidently not.
If I was going to meet the Dance NY kids and see Mr. Brailsford, I'd better stay in shape.
A few hours of practice in hotel rooms wouldn't hurt.
This is important. One would also have thought she would have intended to do this anyway, what with ballet being her life, her passion, her raison d'etre, and all...
Especially as in the next Jessi chapter, Chapter 9, when she, the other BSC members who went on the trip (Kristy, Stacey, Abby and Mallory) and Stacey's mother go to watch Dance NY perform, all she can think of is that if she'd taken up the offer of the place, she'd be backstage, warming up, feeling the excitement of the audience imbue her very being...
Kristy plays the part of the philistine once again (honestly, this book seems to dislike her more than Mal! Mallory gets to be a very distant descendant of Shakespeare...) but says that she should learn to like "this stuff" because one day if Jessi makes it big, then she'll have to come see it. (No escape. One of us. One of us...) Apparently nobody other than her family knows she was offered the place at Dance NY. Jessi doesn't want her friends - those ones she loves so much she can't bear to leave the Brook - to think she's crazy for not taking up the chance to pursue her dreams full time, or to second-guess her decision. This strikes me as super-healthy. Abby is the one who's actually accused of being a philistine, however, for comparing the inside of the Barbican to the Washington Mall.
Jessi's other friend-like-a-sister's sister, who arranged the tickets, calls her name. Jessi screams. She screams. I don't scream because it's too cold for ice cream. They both scream more, because that's totally acceptable behaviour at a theatre. Even if it is still only almost half an hour until curtains up, the place is milling with people... Tanisha, her big sister by friendship, once removed, takes her off to go backstage. They actually get Mrs McGill's permission. This isn't the most unbelievable part of what happens.
Jessi gets hugs from one of her friends. Some of Tanisha's friends also remember her. The head of the dance company - who is apparently famous - greets her with "Well, if it isn't my prima ballerina Jessica Ramsey!" (At the end, I discuss why him calling her this is ludicrous. For now, we'll concentrate on him announcing in front of a good chunk of his company that somebody who hasn't even joined them, and doesn't dance professionally, is "his" star? This seems like something that the members of his company wouldn't mind learning like this... Oh, wait.) He's very pleased to see her and asks her to come back afterwards to give them notes. While constructive feedback plays its part, and as an audience member she'd have a different perspective to that from the wings, I'm not convinced most professionals would take kindly to being critiqued by an 11-year-old.
Tanisha starts to lead Jessi back out when they hear a loud scream. It hurts Jessi's ears. Diddums. One of the younger corps members sprained her ankle and won't be able to go on tonight. The understudy (and I assume if she's in the corps that this is somebody who can step in and take anybody in the corps's place?) has food poisoning. The head of the company mentally goes over what this will mean for tonight's show. One of the dances can be very minorly tweaked and carry on without her. She's not in another. The third - which just happens to be the one that Jessi learnt when she was there - however, relies on symmetry and it wouldn't work without her. It would need to be cancelled unless... Jessi is in a bit of a state of shock, but nods that she remembers it without the aid of conscious thought. She agrees to step in with about as much mental input - it's the first word out of her mouth.
We'll ignore the implications of a child under the age of 13 performing without a license, without their parents' permission, without a work permit given she's in the country on a holiday, etc. She's not getting paid, so technically she's a volunteer, I guess, and the laws probably don't count in quite the same way?
She's very quickly measured up for a costume, then whisked off to a practice room while Tanisha goes to let the cult and chaperone know what's going on. Apparently Jessi is doing a solo practice for a dance which relies on symmetry, takes the whole corps, and includes lifts. I *headdesk*. I am however rather amused by the lines:
"That's it, Jessica," Mr. Brailsford said. "But on the beat, on beat..."
I was rusty. I hadn't even pliéd for nearly a week.
(a) Because timing is incidental in dance.
(b) So much for bringing your practice stuff to Europe with you...
(c) Did you know that paying attention to the music and moving in time with it is a specific thing dancers practice, in exactly the same way as pliés? (In fairness, one of the many reasons I never had dreams of making it as a dancer was because I am really unmusical and can find it hard to pick out the beat; however, I'm pretty certain that there are very few good dancers who don't instinctively pick up on and move with the rhythm...)
Presumably the practice sessions lasts through the first two dances, and she doesn't even get the chance to watch them from the wings. Which sort of makes sense, coz she'd need a fair bit of drilling - she's not done this dance for months, and she's been put on the spot. She's really nervous - so nervous she can't remember how the dance starts, waiting for the curtain to go up. I really hope it's not en pointe (not only because she almost definitely wouldn't have been carrying her shoes to the theatre with her):
My legs sprang forward. As if the dance were part of me. As if I’d done it a million times.
But this was different than I remembered. Higher. Taller dancers. Bigger lifts from stronger arms.
I landed too hard. I slipped on a pirouette.
But I kept going. Position to position. Beat to beat.
But when I finally stopped, my heart felt as if it had ripped itself wide open. I was gasping.
It was over.
Not perfect. But I’d done it.
It doesn't sound like she was perfectly balanced or controlled in her movements. She wouldn't be safe. There is a photo, presumably of her and Tanisha, and it looks like they're in flat slippers instead. (Also, Tanisha looks more muscular than twiglety - which is quite nice, actually, and if it is a contemporary company which involves lots of other dance styles into its ballets, maybe that's feasible? I'm not sure.) Because they are clearly consummate professionals,
Tanisha and I burst into the green room [the backstage area for the dancers to hang out], shrieking.
The rest of the company (the ones who weren't in the next number) crowded around me, hugging me, congratulating me.
Mr. Brailsford was already there.
"Was I okay?" I asked.
He lifted me up. "Jessica, I am so proud of you!"
As he spun me around, the other dancers gathered in a circle and applauded.
I was crying.
But you know what? He was too.
That, I think, was the best part of the whole evening.
This... isn't weird at all. It's not like you need to keep it down backstage because people are busy, lots of cues are sound-based, people get concerned when people start screaming... Also, I can see him being pleased she stepped in. I can see him thanking her. I'm not entirely comfortable with his OTT physical response, or the fact that he doesn't comment at all on the fact that she made some mistakes (even if it's just an "Of course, if you come join us, you'll have a lot more practice with the company before performing, and we'll be able to get all of the moves really tight, but you did a great job under the circumstances").
Abby has the next chapter and tells us that Jessi is amazeballs, and that the performance was taped so the BSC can bathe her in admiration later on, too.
Jessi's next chapter is Chapter 17. Anybody ever heard of putting a sprained ankle in a cast? Apparently Ann (or, more likely, ghostie) thinks this is appropriate treatment. Also, within a few months of a serious sprain, you can dance professionally again. It'll be completely recovered by then... *cough*Bullshit*cough*
This is relevant because Tanisha, the girl who sprained her ankle and was replaced by Jessi, several other members of the dance company, "[a]nd in the midst of them was David Brailsford". They'd come to say goodbye, as the BSC and co were moving on to Paris that day, and Mr Brailsford wanted to present Jessi with a ballet shoe trophy "[f]or services rendered above and beyond the call of duty". Totally warranted, and believable, that...
Abby, Kristy, Stacey, and Mal were all standing there, smiling proudly (look what they did! They befriended somebody with talent! They may bathe in reflected glory!); other people were trying to work out what was going on... Somebody - probably Kristy - starts a round of applause. There is also this gem of weirdness, as the dancers take their leave:
"Hope to see you soon!" Mr. Brailsford called out.
"Me too!" I replied.
I meant it. I hoped he did too.
O...K...?
Jessi gets the chance to brag to girls from the Canadian school who recognised David Brailsford. (He's David Brailsford! She takes dance lessons - like she wouldn't know who he was, pfft!)
Jessi next pops up in a Mallory chapter (Chapter 21), when she's the voice of reason, encouraging Mal to engage with the real world and actually pay attention to the places they're seeing. Like the Bastille, the Cathedral of Notre Dame... Places steeped in history. Mal is busily writing a story she's had the idea for, instead, and really isn't with it. Jessi points out that as a non-writer, going around the Bastille, she had at least a dozen story ideas. Mal is eventually persuaded to join reality and put the story she's writing down. Oh that Jessi, voice of reason and rationality...
The next thing to give you is a transcription of a letter to Jessi in the Epiologue.
Dearest Jessica!
I know I can't have you in my permanent company yet.
How about a compromise?
Would you dance in our production of the Nutcracker?
Let me know ASAP.
We can work out a weekend rehearsal schedule.
Best to your parents.
- David Brailsford.
Honestly, maybe it's not Jessi's fault she thinks she's all that..? Unfortunately, the most logical explanation I can think of for his interest in her is that she's being groomed - and not so much for stardom... I'm pretty certain he's not supposed to give off creeper vibes, but as far as I can work out she's very good for her age and shows promise that she will be able to make it as an adult, with dedication, bar injuries, and assuming she doesn't grow too tall/her body shape doesn't change too much. There are thousands, if not tens of thousands, of other kids around her age who'll be in the same camp. Most of those who'll make it will never be anything other than corps dancers. There's a hierarchy above that - a dozen or so are likely to make it to better things. All of the prima ballerinas can be listed easily enough on one page - these are internationally recognised stars. There have been 12 Prima ballerina assolutas ever named. He's coming on pretty strongly, under those circumstances, and had absolutely no right to call her a prima ballerina. He's telling her that, at 11 years of age, he ranks her up there with Darcey Bussell. WHAT?
On a completely different note, because Mrs McGill had a decent presence in this book, I spent much of it mentally listening to this song...
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