On Pointe by Lorie Ann Grover. New York: Margaret K. McElderry Books, 2004.
As a child, did you have a dream? Did you believe, with all your being, that if you worked hard enough—if you really devoted your heart, soul, mind, and body—you could obtain any goal you set for yourself? And, did you think that, once traveling along this premeditated path to success, any deviations could only be considered failures?
City Ballet Company is the dream for Clare, who has been dancing for as long as she can remember. It seems that she has never had a life without this expectation of becoming a dancer, and now, this summer, she is almost there—or is she? After 10 years of lessons, bloody feet, oozing blisters, and hundreds of pairs of toe shoes, Clare is getting taller, and taller, and still taller. Her body doesn’t seem to understand that ballet dancers are not tall—not the girls, anyway. Her mother is short; why didn’t her body mimic her mother instead of her father?
On Pointe is a novel en verse, its lyrical style flowing easily, gracefully, much as the classical dancer Clare so hopes to become. But, within this beautiful language, the author asks questions which need to be raised: Are the sacrifices required to reach one’s dream—the physical pain, the emotional toil, the hardship on families, and the destructive effect on relationships—are they often too much? Have we failed as human beings if our childhood dreams do not equal our adult realities? And, is success in the eyes of society more important than happiness within our own hearts?
Lorie Ann Grover weaves a simple yet powerful choreography of words with On Pointe, offering wisdom gleaned from personal heartbreak, along with a comforting shoulder of empathy—a melodic voice of support, reason, and guidance for those willing to consider that true achievement requires the growth of our minds, spirits, hearts, and souls, as well as that of our bodies.