A very disappointing book on a life which is (should be) enthralling. This new work in no way compares to the wonderful biography of Diaghilev by Richard Buckle, which carries you into an exciting and glittering world.
The writing here is not inspiring, is usually pedestrian, and sometimes lapses into distressing trans-atlantic slang ("the classiest hotel in Moscow"), which is worlds away from the fastidious and dignified man Diaghilev was. For the most part, the characters in this account fail to take on convincing life and individuality.
Readers hoping to be thrilled by this extraordinary life should look immediately to Richard Buckle's biography, to read a completely enthralling story they will probably never forget.