My Life by Isadora Duncan. I read this book on the 6 and 1/2 hours train ride to (and the back from) Frederikshavn. I traveled first class thanks to a special offer by the Danish railways: while pouring myself fancy Russian teas and eating a ton of chocolate marzipan offered by the train stewards I immersed myself into the somehow epic memoir of Isadora Duncan. Duncan, a pioneer of modern dance, left her native San Francisco in search for much deserved glory and for the adequate recognition of her art. Her life was extremely adventurous but also tragic (her 2 children drowned in an accident, and her third child died few hours after being born). Duncan had a passionate love for Ancient Greece and thought ballet and pantomime were grotesque. She learned how to dance by herself, at a very young age, and since then developed her personal style despite the constant debts and the initial lack of recognition.
From the book: “When I was about six years old, my mother came home one day and found that I had collected half a dozen babies of the neighbourhood – all of them too young to walk – and had them sitting before me on the floor while I was teaching them to wave their arms. When she asked the explanation of this, I informed her that it was my school of the dance. She was amused, and, placing herself at the piano, she began to play for me. This school continued and became very popular.”