This novel tells the story of two sisters, dancers with a New York ballet, and how they cope (or do not) in the world of this taxing art. Quick moving, with well-drawn characters, I quite enjoyed the book (much of which I read during jury duty).
One bit that was particularly intriguing was an observation about the changing nature, if you will, of entertainment and audiences' expectations:
The number of people who will accept being an audience to anything is getting smaller and smaller. Mostly people seem to want to be the person looked at, even if they don’t know what they are doing, even if what they are doing is horribly embarrassing.
Does everyone want to be the person looked at now, or will things swing in the other direction, at a certain point, once we reach Peak Selfie? I'm not sure, but I, for one, am content to sit in awe as others work their magic; it's not the Kirov, but I do quite enjoy seeing the feats of athleticism on So You Think You Can Dance? , which just began its tenth season.
(Below, Anna Pavlova, obviously not a SYTYCD contestant, but a dancer I thought of as I read The Cranes Dance nonetheless.)