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caitlyn888's review against another edition
1.0
As someone who Irish danced for 10 years, watched "Feet of Flames" on VHS religiously, and even saw Michael Flatley live a couple years ago when he brought "Dangerous Games" to Chicago, I figured this autobiography would be of interest to me.
Also, fun fact: One of my dance teachers actually hung out with Michael Flatley back in the day, and she said he was incredibly full of himself.
This book proves that statement to be true, a hundred times over. I powered through 48 CHAPTERS of Michael Flatley telling the reader 1) how wildly successful he is in everything that he does, thanks all to himself and his hard work, 2) how obscenely rich he is, 3) how many, many, MANY women he's slept with and simultaneously cheated on but who somehow still think he's great, and 4) how any failure he did face was other people's fault. I had to approach this grandiose writing from a humorous mindset to ensure I wouldn't lace up my old hard shoes and treble all over the pages 'til they shredded.
The way he recalls key moments in his life is like reading an overly dramatic movie script. He walked for HOURS through Chicago as a little kid just to get to a music shop so he could ask for flute lessons, but the whole place ROARED WITH LAUGHTER when they saw his pitiful instrument. When he finally broke up with the sexy 19-year-old woman he was a "slave" to, he chased her through the pouring rain, bought a whole stand of flowers, and swept her into his arms for a long kiss goodbye just before she got in the taxi. Gimme a break.
And this so-called journalist who helped Michael Flatley with this book contributed by interjecting into Michael's story with interviews from friends and family of Michael who all continue to confirm just how GREAT he is and how he was always destined to be a winner. (He cured his sister's depression! He bought everyone a Mercedes Benz!) We get it, he is a god amongst men. Never has a journalist been so blatantly starry-eyed in their report of a celebrity. It was as if he pulled every single positive quote about Michael Flatley that exists in the newspaper archive. I should've known this book was going to be an eye-roller when I saw that the first page is a quote from Nelson Mandela saying that we need more people in the world like Michael Flatley.
To be fair, Michael Flatley is an amazing dancer and showman. He is incredibly determined and does not give up on his goals. And he really did reinvent Irish dance with his wildly successful show, "Lord of the Dance." I appreciated reading the parts about Irish dance itself. But this was wholly overshadowed by ego. (And many typos. Was there even an editor for this book?)
Guess the old saying is true - don't meet your idols.
Also, fun fact: One of my dance teachers actually hung out with Michael Flatley back in the day, and she said he was incredibly full of himself.
This book proves that statement to be true, a hundred times over. I powered through 48 CHAPTERS of Michael Flatley telling the reader 1) how wildly successful he is in everything that he does, thanks all to himself and his hard work, 2) how obscenely rich he is, 3) how many, many, MANY women he's slept with and simultaneously cheated on but who somehow still think he's great, and 4) how any failure he did face was other people's fault. I had to approach this grandiose writing from a humorous mindset to ensure I wouldn't lace up my old hard shoes and treble all over the pages 'til they shredded.
The way he recalls key moments in his life is like reading an overly dramatic movie script. He walked for HOURS through Chicago as a little kid just to get to a music shop so he could ask for flute lessons, but the whole place ROARED WITH LAUGHTER when they saw his pitiful instrument. When he finally broke up with the sexy 19-year-old woman he was a "slave" to, he chased her through the pouring rain, bought a whole stand of flowers, and swept her into his arms for a long kiss goodbye just before she got in the taxi. Gimme a break.
And this so-called journalist who helped Michael Flatley with this book contributed by interjecting into Michael's story with interviews from friends and family of Michael who all continue to confirm just how GREAT he is and how he was always destined to be a winner. (He cured his sister's depression! He bought everyone a Mercedes Benz!) We get it, he is a god amongst men. Never has a journalist been so blatantly starry-eyed in their report of a celebrity. It was as if he pulled every single positive quote about Michael Flatley that exists in the newspaper archive. I should've known this book was going to be an eye-roller when I saw that the first page is a quote from Nelson Mandela saying that we need more people in the world like Michael Flatley.
To be fair, Michael Flatley is an amazing dancer and showman. He is incredibly determined and does not give up on his goals. And he really did reinvent Irish dance with his wildly successful show, "Lord of the Dance." I appreciated reading the parts about Irish dance itself. But this was wholly overshadowed by ego. (And many typos. Was there even an editor for this book?)
Guess the old saying is true - don't meet your idols.
jacqueline1989's review
5.0
As a kid, I grew up watching Michael Flatley's amazing Irish dancing, and I adored it with a passion I doubt I even realized, even all those years ago. As a reader, I was almost terrified at the onset of starting this book because, in truth, I knew nothing, in detail, of Michael Flatley. Oh, sure enough I knew his basics, his Glossed Over resume, but I knew nothing of the man, except what I had heard from the media. The funny reality about stardom is that it creates the idea that we, as the fan, have a right to know all the intimate details of our idols. Knowing this, I knew the book, Lord of the Dance, would either satisfy all my curiosity, and leaving me hating the man, or it would be an obvious falsehood, leaving me cold.
Thankfully, Flatley's autobiography was capable of being so much more, so much better, than any of the above feared expectations. This narrative was humanistic in that, much like the people we know in our lives, there are aspects about them that we love, and that we hate, but that we fundamentally accept, and move on. In many ways, this is the aspect of which I was most impressed. I found Flatley's book to be neither a narcissistic "look-all-at-what-I've-done-and-how-awesome-I-am" telling, nor was it overly ridden with an overreaching "see-how-I'm-so-misunderstood" tone.
Fundamentally, Lord of the Dance accomplishes two goals; it tells the story of the man, and it proves that Michael Flatley, like the rest of us, is human. Prior to hearing his story, with his own words, I always imagined Michael to be more myth than man, more fantasy than reality. An odd imagining, no doubt, but ironically true nonetheless. The intimate tone, the personal nature of this work does phenomenally well in conveying the fact that Flatley is a complexly, insanely talented, passionately driven man. The view the reader gets of him is so unexpectedly personable that, at times, I felt as though Flatley were telling his story for me, to me.
It was unexpected, too, at the almost isolated quality Flatley seems to have lived for the large portion of his life. Despite the obvious positive relationships in his life, both platonic and romantic, I often felt Flatley lived forever adrift, both because of his sexuality, and his art. Additionally, while I knew he was determined, I never comprehended the level of will he harbored. I understood, quite well, that he was a talented dancer, but after finishing this book I'm left almost breathless at his skill as a choreographer, a musician, a dancer, a directer, the list is endless. I'm almost sad, truly, that the work ended, because upon its final page I felt as though I were saying goodbye to a friend. This is in no way typical for me, ever, when reading biographical nonfiction, but the depth of feeling, the struggle, the triumph, the torture, the hells and downfalls of the man came roaring through the pages and into my consciousness. I had almost expected to find this book dull, dispassionately wrote, and overall dissatisfying, either from the aspect that I would hate all I had learned about Michael Flatley, or that the book's structure would be dully written. Thank God, truly, I was wrong, because it has been some time since I last enjoyed a nonfiction to the depth I found myself loving Lord of the Dance. I have so much more appreciation for the man, as well as the art.
Thankfully, Flatley's autobiography was capable of being so much more, so much better, than any of the above feared expectations. This narrative was humanistic in that, much like the people we know in our lives, there are aspects about them that we love, and that we hate, but that we fundamentally accept, and move on. In many ways, this is the aspect of which I was most impressed. I found Flatley's book to be neither a narcissistic "look-all-at-what-I've-done-and-how-awesome-I-am" telling, nor was it overly ridden with an overreaching "see-how-I'm-so-misunderstood" tone.
Fundamentally, Lord of the Dance accomplishes two goals; it tells the story of the man, and it proves that Michael Flatley, like the rest of us, is human. Prior to hearing his story, with his own words, I always imagined Michael to be more myth than man, more fantasy than reality. An odd imagining, no doubt, but ironically true nonetheless. The intimate tone, the personal nature of this work does phenomenally well in conveying the fact that Flatley is a complexly, insanely talented, passionately driven man. The view the reader gets of him is so unexpectedly personable that, at times, I felt as though Flatley were telling his story for me, to me.
It was unexpected, too, at the almost isolated quality Flatley seems to have lived for the large portion of his life. Despite the obvious positive relationships in his life, both platonic and romantic, I often felt Flatley lived forever adrift, both because of his sexuality, and his art. Additionally, while I knew he was determined, I never comprehended the level of will he harbored. I understood, quite well, that he was a talented dancer, but after finishing this book I'm left almost breathless at his skill as a choreographer, a musician, a dancer, a directer, the list is endless. I'm almost sad, truly, that the work ended, because upon its final page I felt as though I were saying goodbye to a friend. This is in no way typical for me, ever, when reading biographical nonfiction, but the depth of feeling, the struggle, the triumph, the torture, the hells and downfalls of the man came roaring through the pages and into my consciousness. I had almost expected to find this book dull, dispassionately wrote, and overall dissatisfying, either from the aspect that I would hate all I had learned about Michael Flatley, or that the book's structure would be dully written. Thank God, truly, I was wrong, because it has been some time since I last enjoyed a nonfiction to the depth I found myself loving Lord of the Dance. I have so much more appreciation for the man, as well as the art.
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