The Four Temperaments: A Novel [NOOK Book]

Overview

The spellbinding story of a father and son, both married, who fall in love with the same alluring ballerina.
Oscar Kornblatt has been a first violinist with the New York City Ballet for so many years that he scarcely notices the throngs of eager young dancers who fill the ranks of the corps de ballet. But Ginny Valentine catches his eye, and when he comes to know her he becomes utterly enchanted by her. One ...
See more details below
The Four Temperaments: A Novel

Available on NOOK devices and apps  
  • NOOK Devices
  • NOOK HD/HD+ Tablet
  • NOOK
  • NOOK Color
  • NOOK Tablet
  • Tablet/Phone
  • NOOK for Windows 8 Tablet
  • NOOK for iOS
  • NOOK for Android
  • NOOK Kids for iPad
  • PC/Mac
  • NOOK for Windows 8
  • NOOK for PC
  • NOOK for Mac
  • NOOK Study
  • NOOK for Web

Want a NOOK? Explore Now

NOOK Book (eBook)
$9.99
BN.com price

Overview

The spellbinding story of a father and son, both married, who fall in love with the same alluring ballerina.
Oscar Kornblatt has been a first violinist with the New York City Ballet for so many years that he scarcely notices the throngs of eager young dancers who fill the ranks of the corps de ballet. But Ginny Valentine catches his eye, and when he comes to know her he becomes utterly enchanted by her. One night when Ruth, his quietly independent wife, is away, he brings Ginny back to his Upper West Side apartment and the two become lovers.

While the affair doesn’t last, Oscar’s attachment to Ginny continues to flourish. He invites her to join his family for Thanksgiving dinner, where she meets and falls in love with Oscar’s eldest son, Gabriel, home from San Francisco for the holiday. Gabriel, married to a beautiful, highly unstable woman, finds himself falling under Ginny’s spell. As the bonds of the family begin to erode, Ruth takes drastic and shocking measures to salvage what is most precious to her: her baby granddaughter, Isobel.

Set against the glamorous, exciting world of the New York City Ballet, The Four Temperaments explores the ways in which love and marriage are tested. Through its unforgettable cast of characters, this novel reveals how the demands of the flesh can suddenly, almost inexplicably, turn lives upside down. With the assurance and virtuosity of a seasoned storyteller, Yona Zeldis McDonough presents the powerfully sexy story of two adulterous affairs and imbues them with an irresistible emotional undercurrent.

From the Hardcover edition.

Read More Show Less

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly
Father and son fall for the same girl in this uneven debut. Oscar Kornblatt, first violinist for the New York City Ballet, finds the quiet routine of his life shattered when he meets Ginny Valentine, an ambitious member of the corps de ballet. Although Ginny is unlike the more sophisticated women who have caught Oscar's attention in the past, she has a fiery energy that he can't resist and the two begin an affair. Unaware of the extent of his involvement with Ginny, Oscar's wife, Ruth, invites her to Thanksgiving dinner. When she catches Ginny in the guest bedroom kissing not Oscar but their married eldest son, Gabriel, the delicate balance of the family is imperiled. McDonough focuses on one character in each chapter, which gives the reader a sense of the various histories and tensions involved, but this technique also makes the narrative somewhat halting and disjointed. Ruth emerges as levelheaded and understanding, while Ginny is stereotypically selfish and narcissistic and Gabriel's wife, Penelope, is unstable. Lust and jealousy consume Oscar and Gabriel, although there is not much about Ginny that can really account for this. Events unfold in a predictable manner for most of the book, until things take a tragic turn and Ruth flees to Mexico, taking Gabriel's one-year-old daughter with her. McDonough has a knack for building solid characters, though they are overshadowed by the melodrama of their situations. National advertising. (Aug.) Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information.
Library Journal
The Four Temperaments is a celebrated Balanchine ballet based on the medieval concept of the body's four prevailing humours. Ballet figures large in this strong and intriguing debut novel, though the humours angle doesn't entirely mesh with the narrative. This morality tale of lust, ambition, love, and heedlessness centers around Ginny Valentine, a fiercely talented but amoral ballerina with the New York City Ballet who wreaks havoc in the pleasant, orderly life of Oscar Kornblatt, a middle-aged violinist with the ballet's orchestra. Ginny is supremely ambitious; to dance, for her, is truly to live, and nothing else comes close until she meets the violinist's older son, Gabriel, at the Kornblatts' Thanksgiving dinner. Never mind that Gabriel is married (and having problems with his obsessive-compulsive wife, Penelope) or that Ginny has already had an abbreviated affair with Oscar. The tragedy that ensues brings out the worst in everyone, even Oscar's levelheaded wife, Ruth. McDonough weaves a controlled, engrossing tale replete with authentic ballet atmosphere and fraught with human frailty that unfolds in five alternating voices. Recommended for all libraries. [Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 4/1/02.] Jo Manning, Barry Univ. Lib., Miami Shores, FL Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information.
Read More Show Less

Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780385507165
  • Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
  • Publication date: 9/3/2002
  • Sold by: Random House
  • Format: eBook
  • Pages: 288
  • Sales rank: 700,978
  • File size: 417 KB

Meet the Author

Yona Zeldis McDonough is the editor of and a contributor to The Barbie Chronicles: A Living Doll Turns Forty and All the Available Light: A Marilyn Monroe Reader. She has written several children’s books and lives in Brooklyn, New York.

From the Hardcover edition.

Read More Show Less

Read an Excerpt

OSCAR

Oscar Kornblatt was in love. Never mind that he was gray-haired, soft around the middle and, despite his wife Ruth's patient ironing, always wearing a rumpled shirt. Forget all that. In his mind's eye, Oscar was Prince Siegfried, young, limber and lithe, as he waltzed Ginny Valentine, his exquisite swan, across the vast stage of his imagination.

Oscar's Swan Lake image of himself and Ginny was not as far-fetched as it may have seemed, for he was a violinist with the New York City Ballet and Ginny Valentine was a dancer in the corps. From the shadowed nether world of the orchestra pit, he could sense her moving across the floorboards of the stage above. And, sometimes, if the angle was just right, he could even see her, just the merest glimpse. Ginny never stayed in one place for long, and Oscar did have to pay attention to the score, after all. But those moments when she came skittering into his field of vision were blessed, and late at night, lying in bed as Ruth dreamed peacefully beside him, he thought about them and he smiled.

Ginny had been dancing with the company for a little more than a year. Oscar had been playing with the orchestra for nearly twenty-five. He had thought that by this time, he would be indifferent to the surge of eager young things who washed up on the gritty sands of the corps de ballet every year, each as bright and as innocuous as a bit of colored sea glass.

His reaction to these girls had nonetheless undergone a transformation over the years. In the beginning, he had despised them. He was in his early thirties then, old enough to realize that the flame of youthful brilliance would not be his, young enough still to feel embittered by that fact. He hadn't wanted the job with the ballet orchestra anyway, but by then he and his wife had two sons to support. The struggle of trying to assemble one ill-fated string quartet after another was wearing him down. And then there was Ruth. Ruth, who had patiently endured their first apartment, a dark basement on East Sixth Street, and, later, the burned-out buildings that lined the block of their apartment building on West 122nd Street. But when she became pregnant for the third--and Oscar prayed final--time, even he could see that enough was enough. The job was offered and he grudgingly took it.

Ruth, Oscar and the boys moved into a large, comfortable apartment on West End Avenue, an affordable option in the days before the Manhattan real estate boom. It had neither the grandeur of Riverside Drive--vistas that opened seamlessly onto an expanse of the rippling, dark waters of the Hudson River--nor the romance of Central Park West, with its lacy backdrop of flowering trees and shrubs, but it was nevertheless a big step up in the world. At least materially. The family was delighted: the boys went racing in their socks across the smooth, sun-checkered floors and spent hot, happy afternoons in Riverside Park. Ruth joined the local synagogue and befriended the owners of the small neighborhood shops. But Oscar, although outwardly cheerful, seethed within. He had become a breadwinner, not an artist. Secretly, he was mortified, pushed into the narrow world of conventional respectability. A world in which the hot star of genius, and all its urgent, unpredictable heat, was forever snuffed out.

He took out his resentment not on his family, or at least not much, but on the dancers, the skinny, silly girls for whom the audiences sat mesmerized, applauded and threw armloads of expensive, useless flowers. For these Philistines--and Oscar also lumped the dancers into this category--the music was just so much backdrop, part of the decor. Oh, he had heard the dancers talk about the music, how it inspired them, moved them, whatever. But he could see that it was all a sham, a poor cover for their own monumental narcissism that pranced onstage shouting, "Look at me! Look at me!" though of course they never actually said a word. He observed, more than once, the way they upstaged each other, intruding on one another's musical cues, anticipating a rival's exit from the stage and starting just a beat too soon. They gloated when another dancer was injured or ill. All this would have been comical in Oscar's eyes had it not been so naked.

Generally, there was very little personal contact between the dancers and the musicians. But, once in a while, the score called for a difficult musical solo and the musician who performed it would be called onto the stage during the applause. Oscar had watched this happen--though fortunately not to him--and found something both heartbreaking and pathetic about seeing the two performers up there together. There was the ballerina--arms filled with roses, resplendent in the scanty costume that revealed her sweat-soaked limbs--holding the musician by the hand. The musician would shuffle toward the front of the stage, a shaggy trained bear, a portent of death in his ill-fitting, dark suit, while she--all light and silver and air--held out the unspoken promise of immortality to the fatuous, cheering audience.

For years, Oscar had made it a point of honor to ignore the dancers, not bothering to learn their names or pretending not to know them if he somehow did; refusing to acknowledge them if he saw them in the halls or elevators of the theater. But, little by little, his sense of injury began to subside. His third son, Benjamin, was born; the two older boys, Gabriel and William, thrived. Ruth seemed happy, happier than he had seen her in a long time. She began singing again; true, it was only in the shower, but the rich, ripe sound of her powerful contralto filled him with wistful and sweet memories of their courtship in the mosquito-filled, lilac dusks at Tanglewood. He received professional recognition, such as it was, and the attention acted as balm to his touchy ego. He stopped hating the dancers. He no longer needed to.

It was during these years that he discovered that he was even occasionally attracted to one of them, though his interest never lighted upon the green girls of the corps. Instead, he was drawn to the older dancer, the established star whose hunger for fame had peaked into a gracious and perhaps even complacent acceptance of her exalted stature. Clarissa Castille was such a dancer: beautiful, poised and intelligent as far as her limited education permitted. She had studied piano for some years and could actually talk about music apart from how it related to her dancing. She was happily married, as was Oscar, so an affair was not a real option for either of them. Anyway, Oscar didn't want to have an affair. He loved Ruth, loved the life he had with her. But he couldn't deny that he also enjoyed, immensely, the hint of flirtation that laced the postperformance dinners he shared with Clarissa. He derived great pleasure from gazing at her expressive brown eyes, the intricately coiffed black hair that revealed her long, elegant neck, and the way she shifted and twisted the rings--of amber, garnet, opal, turquoise--around her lovely fingers. When she left the company to have a child, he was genuinely sorry.

There were two others like her over the years, women with whom he formed congenial though never constraining bonds of friendship. Then this phase too began to pass. His sons grew up, he and Ruth grew older. He watched as the two elder boys married. He moved up through the ranks of the orchestra. Though outwardly pleased, he remained fundamentally detached from the change in status. His youthful dreams had mercifully faded; he was no longer consumed by the desire to shine. Instead, he was grateful for the ongoing good fortune of his life--the joy of playing, and being transported by, his music. The love of his wife and sons. He relished the palpable, reassuring pleasures of the flesh: good food, good wine, a comfortable home, vacations in New England and, every so often, Europe. He took no more notice of the young dancers who buzzed around the theater than a gardener did of the bees.

It was into this bucolic landscape that Ginny Valentine burst, sudden and shocking as a sharp silver tack that lodged without warning in his naked foot.

One day after rehearsal was over, he was carefully putting his instrument back in its case when he heard behind him a high, clear voice that sounded faintly southern, though he couldn't have said whether its cadences emerged from Georgia or Texas. "Mr. Kornblatt," it said as he turned around, "do you think I could speak to you for a minute?" There was Ginny, in a red V-necked leotard and red tights. Even Oscar, who generally took little notice of such things, was surprised by this costume. Weren't they all supposed to wear black and pink?

"Why, of course, Miss . . . ?" he said.

"Valentine. But just call me Ginny."

"Ginny, then," he said. "What can I do for you?" He knew he sounded insincere, even patronizing, but, really, it was hard to take any of them, particularly a very young one outfitted like this, too seriously.

"It's about the music," she said.

"The music?"

"Yes, the Stravinsky. I think you're playing it too slowly."

"Do you, Miss Valentine?" he said, the patronizing tone now laced with the metallic edge of annoyance.

"Ginny," she said, flashing a smile filled with large, white, slightly protruding teeth. If she was aware of how she had offended him, she gave no sign. "I think it lags. Especially in the second movement."

"I've been playing that piece for more years than--" he began.

"That's just the point," she interrupted. "Maybe you need to think about it in a new way. It seems to me just a little bit stale."

Oscar looked at her, hardly able to believe his ears. To walk up to a seasoned musician, a well-respected violinist, and blithely tell him that you thought his playing lagged and had grown stale! She was either brazen or monumentally stupid. He could have her fired for saying such a thing. In fact, he would do that, he would speak to Erik Holtz, Ballet Master in Chief, and he would have her fired tomorrow. No, today, in fact. But before he could tell her as much, he heard her saying, "Look, are you busy now? Maybe we could have a cup of coffee or something. So I could tell you what I mean?"

It was only then that he really saw her: glossy, light brown hair parted in the center of a pale, smooth forehead beneath which were closely set, gray-green eyes. Ears as intricate and fine as nautilus shells revealed by her tightly bound bun. Luminous white teeth. Her arms were the merest ribbons; her legs, steel. She pinned him with a look at once so hopeful and warm, so eager and intense, that he found himself saying, "You go change. I'll wait here."

They went to one of the Upper West Side's once-ubiquitous and now disappearing coffee shops: Formica tables, leatherette seats, tiny boxes of cereal lining the upper shelves and plastic-coated menus that went on for pages. Ginny still wore the red leotard, only she had added a pair of jeans and a black crocheted shawl. Her pointe shoes peeped out like an improbable pair of rabbit ears from the large, ungainly bag that she--like the rest of them--hoisted over her delicate shoulder. At the base of her throat was a small, curved scar. Oscar found his eyes drawn to it; it seemed to wink with the movements of her throat as she spoke or swallowed. He wished he could reach over and put his finger--gently, so gently--upon it.

The waitress appeared. Oscar ordered black coffee, and despite Ruth's nagging concern over his weight, a glazed doughnut. Ginny's lips moved slightly as she scanned the menu. She settled finally on waffles with strawberries and whipped cream and a side order of bacon.

"Tell me about the music," he said when their orders arrived. He took a small bite of the doughnut, conscious of wanting to make it last, at least most of the way through her meal. But he needn't have worried; she fairly inhaled her food, consuming it with quick, eager bites that she washed down with large gulps of milk.

"It gets bogged down when you play it too slowly," she said. "I think he meant it to sound more energetic, more excited, you know?"

"He?" asked Oscar. The ordinary doughnut was suddenly rendered light, sweet, delicious; even the ersatz black coffee was a wonderful counterpoint to its sweetness.

"Stravinsky," she said, matter-of-factly. Her glazed lips shone with maple syrup. Oscar wasn't even surprised that she presumed to know the composer's thoughts.

They spent over an hour in the coffee shop, talking not only about the Stravinsky score, but also about Ravel, Bach, Tchaikovsky and Hindemith. She knew nothing about theory or terminology, but she had a bright, quirky way of looking at things that Oscar found appealing. And her appetite! He had never seen a dancer--nor anyone else--eat with such abandon. She licked her fingers, the back of her spoon, the end of her straw. Oscar wondered what such a girl would be like in bed and then hoped she couldn't tell what he was thinking. Fortunately, she just kept right on talking, about her dancing, now. Her eyes shone the way Joan of Arc's must have. Even Clarissa had never looked so possessed and it made Oscar uneasy. To change the subject, he asked about her accent, which seemed to grow increasingly southern as she spoke. She told him about the small Louisiana town where she had grown up and the ballet lessons she had taken in New Orleans. And what about that name; surely Valentine was something she had invented, like so many of them, for the stage? But it turned out he was wrong.

"My mother met my father at a Valentine's Day dance in Atlanta. She'd gone there with her church group for the weekend. He told her he was the son of the minister at the First Baptist Church. That his daddy was a big deal in the community. Guess that won her over."

"But it wasn't true?"

"Not a word. She went back home with a phony name and address on a piece of memo paper. Oh, and with me too--though she didn't know it yet." There was a noisy pause as Ginny drained her glass through her straw.

"So you never knew him?" Oscar asked.

"Only what Mama told me. She said he seemed so sincere. Genuine. And handsome too. She picked Valentine as a way of remembering him. For a long time, she really did think he'd come back."

From the Hardcover edition.

Read More Show Less

Reading Group Guide

1. This novel is told from five alternating points of view. What effect does this have on the way the narrative unfolds? What do you learn by reading the story through different sets of eyes?

2. A large part of the novel is devoted to the subjects of ballet and classical music. What themes do these two art forms suggest? How are the themes developed? Is music treated differently than dance? If so, in what way?

3. Both Penelope and Ginny are young women who grew up without their fathers. What effects of does this loss have on their respective characters? Are they each damaged in some way? How is that damage expressed?

4. This novel takes place chiefly in New York City, on Manhattan¹s Upper West Side. How is the city portrayed in the book? What role does it have in the story?

5. Ruth does not leave--or even consider leaving--Oscar when she finds out he has been unfaithful to her. Instead, her decision to go is prompted by something else. What is it that finally propels her into flight? Are you sympathetic with her decision? Why or why not? Do you feel she makes the right choice in the end?

6. What role do children play in the development of the story? Can you identify the novel¹s children, from different generations, and the meaning they suggest?

7. Ruth is a woman who wanted daughters, and had only sons. How does this affect her relationships with her daughters-in-law and her granddaughter Isobel? Is there an unfulfilled longing in her as a result of this desire? What effect does that loning have on the unfolding of the narrative?

8. Penelope is described as having obsessive-compulsive disorder. What does this suggest about her character? How are the themes of chaos and control expressed elsewhere in the book?

9. Describe Gabriel¹s relationship to the three central women in the novel: his wife, his mother and Ginny. What is his relationship with his father like, and how does it intersect with his connections to these three women?

10. Oscar and Gabriel each have an affair with the same woman. What themes does this suggest? How are these themes explored and resolved in the course of the story?

11. The concept of the four temperaments is explained, briefly, in the story. What significance does the idea of temperament--as a way of describing character--have in the novel? How is this achieved?

From the Trade Paperback edition.

Read More Show Less

Customer Reviews

Average Rating 5
( 8 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star

(8)

4 Star

(0)

3 Star

(0)

2 Star

(0)

1 Star

(0)

Your Rating:

Your Name: Create a Pen Name or

Barnes & Noble.com Review Rules

Our reader reviews allow you to share your comments on titles you liked, or didn't, with others. By submitting an online review, you are representing to Barnes & Noble.com that all information contained in your review is original and accurate in all respects, and that the submission of such content by you and the posting of such content by Barnes & Noble.com does not and will not violate the rights of any third party. Please follow the rules below to help ensure that your review can be posted.

Reviews by Our Customers Under the Age of 13

We highly value and respect everyone's opinion concerning the titles we offer. However, we cannot allow persons under the age of 13 to have accounts at BN.com or to post customer reviews. Please see our Terms of Use for more details.

What to exclude from your review:

Please do not write about reviews, commentary, or information posted on the product page. If you see any errors in the information on the product page, please send us an email.

Reviews should not contain any of the following:

  • - HTML tags, profanity, obscenities, vulgarities, or comments that defame anyone
  • - Time-sensitive information such as tour dates, signings, lectures, etc.
  • - Single-word reviews. Other people will read your review to discover why you liked or didn't like the title. Be descriptive.
  • - Comments focusing on the author or that may ruin the ending for others
  • - Phone numbers, addresses, URLs
  • - Pricing and availability information or alternative ordering information
  • - Advertisements or commercial solicitation

Reminder:

  • - By submitting a review, you grant to Barnes & Noble.com and its sublicensees the royalty-free, perpetual, irrevocable right and license to use the review in accordance with the Barnes & Noble.com Terms of Use.
  • - Barnes & Noble.com reserves the right not to post any review -- particularly those that do not follow the terms and conditions of these Rules. Barnes & Noble.com also reserves the right to remove any review at any time without notice.
  • - See Terms of Use for other conditions and disclaimers.
Search for Products You'd Like to Recommend

Recommend other products that relate to your review. Just search for them below and share!

Create a Pen Name

Your Pen Name is your unique identity on BN.com. It will appear on the reviews you write and other website activities. Your Pen Name cannot be edited, changed or deleted once submitted.

 
Your Pen Name can be any combination of alphanumeric characters (plus - and _), and must be at least two characters long.

Continue Anonymously
Sort by: Showing all of 8 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted March 26, 2014

    Ashpaw and Co. Bios for now

    +Name: Ashpaw. Gender: she-cat. Apperance: Ashpaw is a smokey gray she-cat with darker stripes and vivid and bright green eyes. Persona: fun, active, spunky, bubbly. Likes: Mistyclan, swimming, fish, racing, and training. Dislikes: rude cats from other clans, frogs, and being yelled at. Family: Fernblaze (mother), Rowanstar (father, deceased), Sandyshore (sister, deceased), Pebblestep (brother).+-Name: Spottedleaf. Gender: she-cat. Apperance: a tortiseshell and white shecat with leaf green eyes and a dappled coat. Persona: calm, bright, a social butterfly. Likes: Ashpaw's courage, working hard, enjoying the day. Dislikes: Thuderstorms, frogs, and breaking the rules. Family: Cloudpool (mother), Sunflame (father), Graycloud (brother), Stormy (brother).

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted March 26, 2014

    Silverswirls bio

    Name:Silverswirl Character:Outgoing,sweet,brave,loves hares Mate:none Crush:none for now Favorite food:mice Kits:one Tinykit(from a mate that left me)

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted March 26, 2014

    Darkwing bio

    Dark brown tabby tom with ice blue eyes. On his paws it is pitch black. He has a scar from a fox he faught on his left flank. Mate: none
    Position: deputy
    Favorite food: rabbit

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted March 26, 2014

    Bios

    Mistyclan

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted September 8, 2002

    Four Temperaments: A Novel

    This is a wonderful book - as an ex-dancer myself, it is very true to the backstage life of the ballet world - accurate to the very last detail. A must for all to read.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted August 27, 2002

    Four Temperaments: A Novel

    I absolutely loved this book - a must read for ballet fans and others alike! As an ex-ballet dancer myself, I found all the backstage details to be completely accurate.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted August 15, 2002

    Lyrical and moving

    I absolutely loved this book. It took me through every emotion possible. Even though I disagreed with the actions some of the characters chose to take, it was hard to dislike any of them because, at some point in my life, I've been where each of them were and felt those same feelings with the same justifications. Please read this, you wll not be disappointed

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Anonymous

    Posted June 7, 2002

    Moving and beautifully written

    Page-turning and literary both, The Four Temperaments is a heartfelt story about the yearning for(and sometimes damaging price of) love. People with indelible characters--I especially loved Ruth and Penelope--the book's as bravura a performance as opening night at the New York City Ballet.

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
Sort by: Showing all of 8 Customer Reviews

If you find inappropriate content, please report it to Barnes & Noble
Why is this product inappropriate?
Comments (optional)