But I suspect that she lacks the killer instinct, as many Australian dancers do. Natural talent and hard work, not ambition, brought her to the top in Australia and gave her a moderate international reputation; that is, she resembles to some extent those immensely talented film actors who can make the difference between a good and a poor film but on their own will not bring queues to the box office.

If I read correctly between the lines of this painstaking, admiring biography, Marilyn Jones is not convinced that ballet is the most important thing in the world, and this sets her apart from some of her contemporaries and their predecessors. On the other hand, the Australian Ballet with which she chose to work has often been meagre with opportunities for her. Lack of interest or lack of money or both meant that ballets have not been created for her and it appears to some that the directors never quite got her in focus.

In spite of Patricia Laughlin’s own ballet experience – she trained with the Borovanskys, Helene Kirsova and Leon Kellaway and was a member of Kirsova’s Sydney company – this is an amateur’s book, too soft and chatty by far.

To my astonishment I find quotes from my own reviews of Marilyn Jones’ performances, written for various newspapers. They are admiring, and perhaps perceptive, but they do not carry critical weight because along with all Australian critics, without exception, I have not experienced enough ballet; in other words. have not been force-fed on ballet as are critics in London and New York (the only two cities where every kind of ballet, home-grown and imported, may be seen), to qualify as a critic. Most critics in Australia become so by accident. One day the editor offers them some tickets for a film, an opera, a theatre or the ballet and Bob’s your uncle.

Of course they, or we, learn, but the opportunities for learning and acquiring knowledge to develop bases of comparison are limited. I started enjoying ballet with the visit to Australia of the Ballets Russe de Monte Carlo and followed through from there, sometimes paying for my seat, sometimes getting it for nothing, and night after night standing at the back of the stalls during the long, wonderful, unpopular visit of the New York City Ballet, a visit which proved that Australian audiences only really turn out for ‘names’ or familiar spectacles, and have even less critical capability than the critics.

But enjoying ballet does not equip one to be a critic. And admiring Marilyn Jones and having danced with Kirsova and getting the syntax right does not really make Patricia Laughlin a biographer. What we have here is a gift book which may also be useful as a .reference. And one thing must be said for it, in a negative kind of way – it displays more taste than the recent biography of Sir Robert Helpmann, one of Marilyn Jones’ predecessors in the job of artistic director of the Australian Ballet.