Review: Dance With Me by Livia J Elliot

Blurb:

In a world of beauty, a ceramic-made ballerina awakens atop her music box. She must dance for her elven owners, and so her ballet goes on and on. They praise her elegance, her poise and balance, until one day she falls and her ceramic fractures–but the ballerina stands and dances again, ignoring her ever-increasing cracks. The music plays, captivating and demanding … but should she dance? Even when what she once loved becomes a trap? This is a dark fantasy exploring the confines of depression.

Review:

(Deep breath, here we go...) I'm so excited to talk about "Dance With Me" by Livia J. Elliot! It's a story that's stayed with me since I first read it a couple of months ago. And, speaking of stories, there's a Kickstarter campaign for a special edition of this book – a whole other story in itself, a testament to the power of art and community – that you absolutely have to check out! You can wishlist it or show interest, and trust me, you really don't want to miss out on being a part of how this story gets told and retold. So, let me tell you my story of reading this book, what it stirred in me.

A Doll's Awakening

This was a really deep and difficult experience for me as a reader – difficult on a personal level, not because the novel itself is difficult, but because it resonated in ways I wasn't quite prepared for. This is a story that has many layers, and you peel them all off as you read the book, each layer revealing a new facet of yourself, perhaps. It's a fantasy story, yes, but at its heart, it's about a doll, a dancing doll. You know, the kind that's inside a glass box, with a key that you wind up to make them dance. But Elliot sets this within a fantasy setting, so her movements aren't mere clockwork; they're imbued with a kind of magic, a heightened grace and expressiveness. The author doesn't just describe the doll's movements; she paints them, making them a character in their own right. It's not just a mechanical action; it's a form of expression, a language of its own. This doll, against all odds, suddenly awakens and has a conscience. She gains life and has to struggle to understand the world around her, which is initially just the room where she is, along with other dolls and trinkets. This limited space, this microcosm, becomes her entire universe, and Elliot masterfully explores how consciousness, with all its complexities and yearnings, can emerge and evolve even in such confined circumstances. It's a story of finding a self where none was expected.

A Painful Awareness

The way the doll becomes aware of her abilities is really detailed, interesting, and, at times, quite painful to witness. You'll see that the novel has an interesting stretch where she has to learn to speak. It's a process of discovery, of frustration, and finally, of liberation. The story is actually a short story or a novella, I think, so it's not a long story in terms of page count, but it's immense in what it conveys about the character development of this little statue/doll. We witness her gradual understanding of language, the frustration of not being able to express herself, to articulate the thoughts and emotions burgeoning within her, and the eventual joy and liberation that comes with communication, with finding her voice. The more she grows, the more compelling her vocabulary becomes, and the more developed are her abilities to understand and communicate with others, to connect, or to try to connect, with the world outside herself. This linguistic journey, this acquisition of words and meaning, mirrors her emotional and intellectual development, making her a truly relatable character, despite her artificial origins.

A Complicated Relationship

She has this really difficult, really, really painful relationship with her owner, who is an elf, if I'm not wrong. He comes to visit her when he wants to see her dancing. He's a ballerina, actually. Yeah, that's important, and I'm telling you this hugely influential part of the story right now. This relationship, this twisted dance of power and vulnerability, is at the heart of the novel's exploration of trauma and abuse. So, she dances for him, but you quickly become aware of the fact that the relationship is not working, that he mistreats her pretty severely and badly. It's not just a matter of indifference; there's a cruelty there, a disregard for her sentience. The power dynamic is stark, and the reader is drawn into the doll's vulnerability and her desperate need for connection and understanding, even in the face of such cruelty. It's a hard read, at times, but a necessary one.

Themes of Trauma and Connection

I think you have elements here to understand what, ultimately, the story is trying to tell us. It's about complicated and painful relationships, familial bonds, and romantic bonds too, the ties that bind us and sometimes break us. The author herself states it pretty effectively on the Kickstarter campaign description of the book: this is a really personal story, and the book was a way for her to deal with traumatic events from the past, and to try to look at them with the security and safe distance that narration provides. The act of writing, of crafting this narrative, becomes a form of therapy, a way to process and make sense of difficult experiences, to give them shape and meaning. It's a reflection about interpersonal bonds and the way we sometimes have a really hard time understanding what's wrong with the relationships we're in, that we've built, and that we should sometimes try to escape or try to fix. The novel delves into the complexities of these unhealthy dynamics, the subtle ways in which manipulation and control can manifest, the insidious ways in which they warp our perceptions and erode our sense of self, and the immense difficulty of breaking free, of finding a way out of the labyrinth. There's also a reflection on how those relationships can make our development as a person much, much harder or simpler, how they can stunt our growth or, conversely, force us to grow in unexpected and often painful ways.

Perspectives and Growth

This ballerina, the more you read, you'll see she meets other "toys," let's say, and they all have their points of view and their life experiences with the owner, with the elf guy, and with the world in general. These other characters, these fellow inhabitants of her confined world, serve as a kind of chorus, offering different perspectives on the doll's situation and providing her with a wider understanding of the world and her place in it, or lack thereof. They offer her glimpses of other realities, other ways of being. They actually help her to have a more grounded view of what she's going through, to see her own experiences reflected in the lives of others. It's really, really nicely done, really elegantly written. It's always really painful, this shared experience of confinement and mistreatment, but there are also moments of levity, of dark humor, perhaps, and it's actually really helpful for her growth, for her burgeoning understanding of herself and her situation. These moments of connection and solidarity, these shared stories, offer a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness, and highlight the importance of community and shared experience in overcoming trauma, in finding a way to survive, and perhaps, even to heal.

Questions and Reflections

This is the kind of story that asks a lot of questions and refrains from giving you specific answers, you know, and isn't trying to lecture anyone, and I really appreciate that. It's a story that invites introspection, a dialogue with yourself, and encourages readers to confront their own experiences and beliefs about relationships, about the nature of love, and the complexities of human connection. But it is really hard-hitting. It can be a really painful experience if you have been going through some kind of difficult relationship – on a familial level, with your parents, with your spouse, with your brothers and sisters, or, perhaps most poignantly, with your beloved one in a romantic way. The novel doesn't shy away from the difficult truths about abuse, about the insidious ways in which it can warp our sense of self-worth and our ability to trust, and its lasting impact on our lives. So, I think you have to be in the right state of mind to properly enjoy it, because it can be pretty taxing on an emotional level. It demands a certain vulnerability from the reader. But it is also really elegantly done, so I think it's quite a nice reflection on the nature of love and relationships, and how they can be a source of immense joy and growth, or, conversely, really, really harmful and destructive.

Final Thoughts

So yeah, give it a try. And definitely check out the Kickstarter campaign – it's more than just a way to get a book; it's a way to support art, to support a vision. I've seen a lot of really nice pictures on Livia J. Elliot's Instagram profile. It looks like the special edition is a kind of an object of beauty in and of itself, a testament to the care and artistry that's gone into this project. The physical book itself becomes a work of art, mirroring the beauty and fragility, and perhaps even the resilience, of the doll within the story. Yeah, it's a really nice thing to look at and really nice books to show off on your bookshelves, a conversation starter, a piece of art in its own right. It's a worthy novel, a story that will stay with you, and it's not a long commitment, so you can give it a try and finish it in a couple of sittings. But as I told you, you have to be in the right mindset to properly enjoy it, to let it in. Give it a try, do it soon.