Unrealistic beauty standards of the dance industry: how literature contributed to the problem

Nothing screams 'English Literature student' more than stumbling across a second-hand book stand in the midst of a city neighbourhood on a crisp autumn day. There's something just so intriguing about collecting old books; what's their personal history? what was the story of the previous owner(s)?

Perhaps it was my unconscious bias of being a dancer myself, but all the books I picked up had some sort of connection to ballet. As I delved right into reading them, the most notable thing that stuck out for me was that there was a bigger focus on the appearance of the dancers, rather than their talent. With World Ballet Day last week, this concern with appearance got me thinking about the role literature has played in establishing the unrealistic beauty standards that have dominated the dance industry throughout history.

The first book to have caught my eye is entitled Ballerina on Skates. Written by Zoa Sherburne and first published in 1965, this teen book follows 17-year-old Karen as she leaves home to join an ice skating show.

My first impression was that it sounded like a lighthearted book with a lovely concept, and by no means it was. It was such an easy read and definitely aimed at a younger audience. But maybe this readership is why I found some of its themes all the more questionable.

Sherburne wrote very overtly about young female characters scrutinising their own weight and appearance. When Karen joins the company, the first thing we're introduced to is the 'weight system' where each girl is fined for every pound they put on. What's more shocking are the male figures of authority encouraging this, arguing with Karen when she claims she doesn't have fat on her tummy:

'Lean over to the left. Now reach up and feel that little lump of fat just above the waistline' (p.51)

It definitely feels like these young girls are being paraded in front of the men of power in the company, rewarded for being pretty and slim, and punished for anything that doesn't fit the bill. As readers, we're almost immediately told to think of Karen as uneasy on the eye when compared to the other girls, with the constant repetition of 'king-size blonde' as a way of degrading her. This is even reinforced when Karen scores her own speciality comedy performance dressed as a clown - not quite the glamorous image she envisioned for herself. It is only up to us to decide whether it was her talent or the opportunity to mock her further that got her this solo.

Nevertheless, Karen seems to gradually enjoy the luxuries of having her own performance. She is constantly mentioned in newspapers, so even though 'a few of the girls still teased her about her height [...] it didn't seem to matter any more' (p.75). Although it is saddening to see Karen give in to the constant criticising of her appearance, just feeling lucky to be getting any sort of recognition at all.

It may seem like I've given a lot of negative attention to Sherbrune's novel, but I actually truly enjoyed it. In its most basic form, it's a bildungsroman of a young girl successfully chasing her dreams; a feel-good story.

'If people didn't dream dreams the world would be a pretty dull place' (p.103)

Having said that, when we now live in a highly female empowered society, it can be hard to backtrack and appreciate a story that focuses so heavily on criticising young girls' weight and appearance. There's no doubt in saying that there is so much more awareness now about issues such as eating disorders in sports, and this isn't just in reference to women; male dancers have too been victims to the danger of the idealised image in the industry.

In an article for Dance Magazine, Deirdre Kelly notes that "the fixation on thin became amplified in the 1960s" after choreographer Balanchine's preference for "long and lean ballerinas" created an aesthetic worldwide. This was right during the time in which Sherburne was writing and so it may not come as much of a surprise that she writes heavily about this image, especially considering that she was writing for the next generation of dancers.

There has been much discussion about whether the ballet industry has been one of anorexia culture, with the pressure to practice all day and with little sustenance in fear of losing the 'ballerina physique'. Psychologist Linda Hamilton has worked with ballerinas with eating disorders

and notes that "one out of two dancers suffer from an eating disorder” showing that it is still a persistent issue despite the awareness raised. Research has even shown that eating disorders are ten times more common in ballet dancers than non-ballet dancers. After all, when you're growing up constantly watching yourself in a dance studio mirror, it can be easy to fall into the trap of picking apart your image.

The Children's Theatre Book for Young Dancers and Actors by Cecil Walton is another book I picked up and it too has a readership of primarily young ballerinas. It acts as a children's guide to all things theatre and dedicates a lot of time informing readers on what a dancer's appearance should be.

Before getting into this, it's important to note the historical context of the book. I was pleasantly surprised to discover handwriting saying what looks like someone's name and 'Christmas 1949' on the inside of the cover. I find this kind of thing fascinating and I can only imagine being given a vibrant theatre book with gorgeous illustrations would excite any child.

The history of dance that the book provides is so interesting, and the beautiful illustrations are wonderful presentations of different traditional appearances of dancers in different cultures and time periods.

This is the biggest difference between Sherburne and Walton's portrayal of the appearance of dancers. Sherburne creates a standard of beauty, while Walton emphasises that 'We have different ideas of beauty' (p.90).

'When people are looking at pictures, they sometimes agree that a picture is beautiful. Sometimes they disagree. They have different ideas about what they find enjoyable to look at, for there are so many different things that people think beautiful' (p.94)

This message certainly aligns with the importance of self-expression and diversity in our modern culture much more than Sherburne's oppressive demands for slim physiques. This just reinforces the fact that appearance pressures on dancers accelerated around the 60s and literature before was often much more inclusive.

Walton even comments on some of the appearance criticisms male dancers experience:

'Their parents get alarmed, and don't want them to become dancers. These parents have in their mind's eye the visit of a limp, unmanly creature wearing a bracelet with thoroughly affected manners' (88)

Such words as 'limp' and 'unmanly' still haunt the male dancer in today's culture, with things like social media only heightening the criticism. But Walton does go on to point out why such descriptions are unjustified, explaining that male dancers express themselves as they do 'perhaps because they want to be noticeable' (88) and there is nothing wrong with it. He emphasises that dancers are athletes and if anything manliness is at the core of it - I think this kind of acceptance of all genders in dance is still a growing idea, but has come a long way in the past few decades.

It's interesting to consider how the guidance given to dancers in the 1940s seems more progressive than that of the 1960s - what went wrong? I think it's evident that there were new aesthetics arising from this time and literature was a key player in reinforcing the pressures placed on dancers to look a certain way. But this idealisation of the unrealistic 'ballerina physique' is now almost completely eradicated, with health, diversity, and inclusion being prioritised. The Royal Ballet School even have a nutrition policy pledging to teach their students about the importance of nutrition and "endeavour to encourage positive attitudes towards weight control, healthy eating and body image at all times" showing the precautions in place to support young dancers.

Having grown up doing dance, I can safely say that my experience was very different from the likes of fictional Karen, and that the dance industry has changed its values for the better.