A gushing, gossipy peek at the legendary dancer's backstage shenanigans in the later years of his career. The author was a stage manager at the London Coliseum in 1980, when the 42-year-old star arrived for the Nureyev Festival, a popular annual event featuring international ballet companies supporting him in such trademark performances as Don Quixote and Giselle. She got her first taste of what was in store for her when she went to his dressing room to find out why he was late getting onstage (as he would be almost every night), opened the door and found Nureyev stark naked. She managed to keep her cool, faced with "the most beautiful body that I have ever seen," and realized later that she had passed the test he set for everyone he worked with: "if you did not stand up to him right from the start, you were lost." Soutar won his respect and managed subsequent Coliseum appearances and several tours until 1985, the year Nureyev was diagnosed with AIDS. Judging by her account, which draws heavily on meetings after the dancer's death in 1993 with his former lover, Robert Tracy, and a few other intimate associates, Soutar didn't know him all that well but certainly loved swapping stories about him. Her descriptions of his dancing offer little beyond an appreciation of his charisma; he was past his prime by 1980, though not yet in the steep decline of his final years. We see more of Nureyev throwing tantrums and cruising gay bars than of his fabled leaps and double cabrioles. Still, Soutar gives a nice sense of backstage life, where tension is relieved by practical jokes and ruthless teasing. Nureyev comes across as difficult, but no snob: Stagehands loved him, and he might unexpectedly turnup at a party for provincial theater patrons after snubbing the local press. No revelatory insights here, but Nureyev fanatics will find lots of good anecdotes.