A Year with Rudolf Nureyev
Giới thiệu về sách điện tử này
Simon Robinson frankly recalls his eventful year working for Nureyev. He did everything for this hopelessly impractical dancer except be his lover, much to Nureyev's disappointment. It was the Russian's insatiable sexual appetite that eventually destroyed him.
Nureyev had six houses on three continents but no staff in any of them and he couldn't cook, drive, write a letter, tie a necktie or even change a light bulb. In 1990 Simon Robinson, until then professional crew on a racing yacht, became his PA. For the next twelve months they travelled from the Caribbean to America to Europe, living in luxury in Nureyev's New York and Paris apartments and in spartan isolation on his tiny Mediterranean island.
Nureyev's explosive nature was exhausting to live with and many times during their year together Robinson nearly quit - and Nureyev nearly sacked him. It didn't happen, however, because Nureyev needed his PA's calm reliability to ballast his own rocky life, and because Robinson knew that genius must make its own rules.
Xếp hạng và đánh giá
Giới thiệu tác giả
Simon Robinson grew up in Jersey. He spent his youth playing rugby, surfing and sailing before beginning a career in child care. The job was so emotionally draining that he took a sailing sabbatical, which grew into a second career working on racing yachts. After his year with Nureyev he trained as a butler in London, working in Europe and the United States. He is married and lives in Australia.
Derek Robinson is Simon's uncle. After twelve years writing copy for top advertising agencies in London and New York, he became a freelance writer/broadcaster in 1967. His first novel, Goshawk Squadron, was shortlisted for the Booker Prize, and aroused controversy, as did his fifth, Piece of Cake. His other novels include War Story, Hornet's Sting, A Good Clean Fight, Damned Good Show, Hullo Russia, Goodbye England, A Splendid Little War, The Eldorado Network, Artillery of Lies, Red Rag Blues and Operation Bamboozle.
