Historical novel chronicles the life of a Polish dancer
Bronia Nijinska attempted to defy the limits placed on women in the 1900s
He was called by many the god of dance.
Vaslav Nijinsky remains today one of the most tragically beautiful figures of the world of ballet. A star while still in his teens, the Russian virtuoso’s wings were clipped in his prime by mental illness.
While history, even in ballet, has traditionally been written by and about men, Toronto writer Eva Stachniak has a different take in her latest work of historical fiction, The Chosen Maiden.
There were actually three Nijinsky children, though only one who survived the turmoil of illness, upheaval and war that marked early 20th century Europe.
Bronislava (Bronia) Nijinska, the youngest, was an accomplished dancer and choreographer in her own right and a witness to not only her renowned brother’s rise and fall, but to the transformation of Europe.
She was also a prolific chronicler of her life and the world of ballet that consumed both herself and her brother.
It is through Bronia’s eyes that Stachniak recounts this period in her delightful fifth novel.
Built on a stage of painstaking research, Stachniak choreographs a rich family saga that parallels the upheaval taking place around the Nijinsky family.
It’s a culture she’s written about before. Born and raised in Poland, Stachniak moved to Canada in 1981. Her previous novels The Winter Palace and Empress of the Night were bestsellers.
From the Imperial School of Ballet in czarist Russia to the stages of Paris and London, Stachniak weaves a tale of intrigue, love, betrayal and redemption set in the realm of art and artists, exploring the line between dedication and obsession, creation and madness.
The Russian Revolution, first and second world wars, as well as the rise of the Soviet Union, are but background characters.
At the heart of The Chosen Maiden are the struggles of Nijinsky’s talented sister to defy the limits placed on her as a woman — and one ahead of her time at that. Shackled by her gender, she laments the betrayal of her body in a career dictated by its abilities.
“Am I jealous?” Bronia admits to herself as her mother reads glowing reviews of her teen brother’s performance. “Yes. “Not because I dance with the corps de ballet when my brother is already a star. I am jealous because he has a boy’s body and growth holds few dangers for him. Yes, his voice has thickened. But he is also leaner, sharper, stronger than before. And no breasts will ever spoil the shape of his torso.”
With a great deal of ground to cover in one woman’s life, Stachniak weaves together beautifully the myriad moments that bring this fascinating family and period to life. Dene Moore is a Métis writer and editor in British Columbia.