I've been researching the life of Marie Antoinette for my work in progress, a novel about her early years. As Archduchess Antonia of Austria, she underwent a radical makeover during the years 1768-1770 to prepare her for her role as the future dauphine of France. Her mother, Empress Maria Theresa of Austria had been negotiating since 1766 to marry Antonia to Louis-Auguste, the dauphin of France and grandson of Louis XV of France.
In order for Antonia to more seamlessly assimilate into the rarified and sophisticated atmosphere at Versailles, Maria Theresa imported the celebrated choreographer Jean-Georges Noverre from the Duke of Württemburg's court of Stuttgart. Noverre was a world traveler who had been the choreographer at London's Drury Lane Theatre under the management of David Garrick. Both men had very progressive views about Theatre and Dance and each was known for his introduction of "naturalism" (that term being relative, given the "method acting" styles of the 20th century) into his art. Noverre was the first proponent of the "story ballet" and strongly believed that the elements of dance within a theatrical or operatic performance be organically integrated into the whole.
Jean-Georges Noverre (1727-1810)
Among Noverre's responsibilities at the Hofburg Palace in Vienna was the instruction of the prepubescent (ages 12-13) Antonia in the flawless performance of the court dances popular at Versailles, as well as a specific form of movement that was unique to the French court, known as the Versailles Glide.
Noverre is long dead. But long live Maria Zannieri, a dance teacher, choreographer, and period dance expert located right the heart of New York City, a mere stone's throw from Macy*s. Maria and her husband John DeBlass run (and teach at) the West Side Dance Project at 260 W. 36th Street, on the 3rd floor. I have known both of them for years. When my nonprofit theatre company produced plays from the 19th century and earlier, John directed several of the productions and Maria served as the choreographer.
The incomparable Maria Zannieri and John DeBlass
So, when I decided to learn how to execute the Versailles Glide, as a "method novelist," I turned to Maria for a lesson -- and I would cheerfully suggest that other historical writers consider the same route in order to learn how their characters moved, on or off a dance floor.
There are scant clues as to how the walk was achieved. Historian Antonia Fraser describes the Versailles Glide as a "mincing step" in her acclaimed biography of Marie Antoinette. But to many people, including Maria and me, "mincing" implies lifting the feet and taking tiny steps. And we have also read that the movement was performed without lifting the feet from the floor.
Maria was convinced that the Versailles Glide is the same step performed by the Angels at the top of Act II of Balanchine's Nutcracker ballet. After visiting the New York Library for the Performing Arts at Lincoln Center and viewing a tape of the Angels' dance, I was sure she was right.
In a properly executed Versailles Glide (which was only performed by women at the French court), the lady appears to be rolling. Her feet never seem to touch the floor and yet the illusion is created by never removing the feet from the floor. The wide cages called the Grand Panniers (or big baskets) worn under yards and yards of skirts constructed with heavily embellished brocades and silks, also helped to create and maintain that illusion -- that the wearer is sailing across the floor. The body never changes levels or bounces, and the era's long corsets with their stiff busks down the center keep the torso rigid.
The shoes had a "French" or "Louis" heel, approximately 2 inches high. For actors who have worn "character" shoes, that's a good approximation of the right heel.
For my lesson, lacking the requisite grand pannier, I donned a wide petticoat, the kind one would wear under a contemporary ballgown. Maria tied a velvet skirt over it to add some weight. Then I wore a jacket with a similar sleeve and a tight armhole, which would further restrict the movement of my torso, in the absence of the appropriate corset.
Having researched the Versailles Glide prior to our lesson, Maria then demonstrated the step to me. She was wearing soft-soled jazz shoes, but showed me how to execute the step by going up to demi-pointe, on the balls of her feet, with her heels lifted slightly off the floor (even harder to do when you're wearing the 2" Louis heel. She kept her torso rigid and pitched it slightly forward, to mimic the effect of the proper corset. Keeping her thighs quiet and uninvolved in the movement she bent her knees very slightly and with her feet close together, if not touching, she began to perform the Versailles Glide, by taking tiny, rapid steps forward and then in looping swirls about the dance studio. The movement is entirely performed from the knee down.
Then I tried it. It's tricky to keep the knees soft and to put so much weight on the balls of your feet as you shuffle forward (in the most delicate way imaginable), keeping those 2" heels hovering just above the floor so they are not heard.
The main rule to remember is that the balls of the feet never leave the floor; the heels never touch it. Posture is ramrod stiff. Imagine yourself as a pull-toy on wheels and someone has a ribbon tied around your waist and is pulling you forward.
It's simple, but it's not terribly easy. And after a while you really feel the strain in your calves and your arches. It's hard to imagine how the female nobility at Versailles managed to sustain the movement for several minutes at a time as they glided along lengthy corridors and hallways.
After about an hour, I remembered what it felt like to suffer for my art.
But frankly, something as arcane or obscure as the Versailles Glide doesn't really come alive until you learn the movement and get in your muscles. And I think it can only help to feed my appreciation of what my characters were expected to endure on a daily basis. It will certainly enable me to better describe the movement now that I have lived and performed it.
Making history come alive . . . and making it fun. That's what I do. Thanks to Maria Zannieri. If you want to reach Maria and John to help you add some additional verisimiltude to your manuscript, you can phone West Side Dance Project in Manhattan or email email@example.com.
In a good way. I submitted a 40-page proposal for a novel about the early years of Marie Antoinette titled BECOMING. And she loved it so much she cried.
As I researched Marie Antoinette for my second nonfiction title NOTORIOUS ROYAL MARRIAGES, it made me hungry to learn more about her. And the more I read, the more I revised my opinion of her.
The Marie Antoinette I came to love and pity after reading a dozen biographies of her presents such delicious contradictions in terms that she is a novelist’s dream.
Possessed of a proud temperament, she was nonetheless desperate to please, and in doing so was often too eager to place her trust in the hands of those who were not in fact her confidantes, but who wished her harm instead. She would brook no contradiction, yet was vulnerable to criticism; a frivolous creature who was also the most generous member of the French royal family when it came to helping the poor. She was stubborn and willful, yet playful and adorably charming; regal, yet empathetic; loyal, yet confounded by the dual roles she was often expected to play. She was a natural beauty who according to her own mother was in dire need of painful physical improvements in order to enhance her looks; born to rule, yet shockingly unprepared to do so when the time came to fulfill her ultimate destiny.
Do you know a lot about Marie Antoinette? A little? What's your opinion of her?
Welcome to the literary salon of the Lady Novelist (who writes nonfiction as well)
Random musings from women's fiction and nonfiction author Leslie Carroll also known as "historical romance queen" [Publishers Weekly] Amanda Elyot. Actually, Amanda wrote historical fiction, but who am I to reject a compliment from PW!
ROYAL AFFAIRS gets a rave from the Library Journal
In this delightful addition to the countless other books written about the British Royal Family, Carroll (Choosing Sophie ) deftly constructs information chronologically by ruling dynasty, from the Angevins to the Windsors. Along the way, she shares with readers little-known facts-e.g., that the 20-year liaison between William IV and his actress companion was apparently a happy and contented one until he tossed her aside to become king-as well as facts more widely known, e.g., that Queen Victoria and John Brown were close friends but that no evidence of an affair has been discovered. As her previous experience writing historical fiction under the pseudonym Amanda Elyot attests, Carroll can ably research and distill facts and has a true talent for weaving fascinating narratives. Her entertaining writing style makes this one book you do not want to put down. Entertaining, impeccably researched, and extremely well written, it will appeal to all readers with an interest in British history as well as to those with a more specialized interest in the personal lives of the British royal family. Highly recommended.
New York Post chooses CHOOSING SOPHIE
In NY Post reviewer Billy Heller's "Required Reading" column Jan. 20, 2008:
Choosing Sophie by Leslie Carroll (Avon)
Although not exactly “Sophie's Choice" serious, you gotta love an author who goes to Brooklyn Cyclones games as research for her baseball-themed book. Romance writer Carroll's hero is ex-burlesque star Venus deMarley, who finds the perfect fiancé, is informed her estranged father has died, and is reunited with the daughter she gave up for adoption 20 years earlier. As if that weren't enough jolts, Venus also inherits her father's minor league baseball team, the Bronx Cheers.
Publishers Weekly raves about Amanda Elyot's next historical fiction release!
All for Love: The Scandalous Life and Times of Royal Mistress Mary Robinson Amanda Elyot. NAL, $14 paper (448p) ISBN 978-0-451-22297-8
Historical romance queen Elyot shines her light on Mary Darby Robinson (1758–1800), who, during her brief life, burned with a passionate intensity. Born to a successful British merchant who abandoned the family, Mary nonetheless enjoyed an education that nurtured her passion for prose, poetry and drama. Elyot convincingly evokes the ambivalence Mary feels at 15 as she struggles with her mother, who pleads that she give up her upcoming acting debut to marry Tom Robinson, the supposed heir of a rich uncle. After doing as she’s told, Mary suffers the first of many romantic disappointments, all the while finding refuge in her poetry and other writings. Tom’s philandering and financial irresponsibility finally return her to the stage, and there the auburn-haired beauty catches the eye of the Prince of Wales. Mary’s daring and anguished existence is truly the stuff of novels—her own writings, particularly her feminist essays, were acclaimed in her lifetime—and Elyot’s telling of her life, in Mary’s voice, honors her legacy. (Feb.)