The Highland Fling and How to Teach it

In Short

This book is a highly specialized instructional manual designed for students and teachers of stage dancing. It systematically deconstructs the Highland fling into eleven distinct steps, each supported by preparatory exercises for the feet and arms. Far from a casual overview, the text functions as a technical blueprint, detailing weight distribution, limb positioning, and the essential "laws of opposition." Its endurance lies in its uncompromising focus on mechanical accuracy, serving as a rare, unfiltered window into the pedagogical standards of early 20th-century dance instruction.

The Story

The progression of the book mirrors the logical development of a student mastering a sophisticated, athletic dance. It opens with the fundamental premise that technical proficiency is best achieved through isolated exercises that mimic the movements of the full dance. Before the student ever attempts the Highland fling in its entirety, they are guided through a series of foundational hops and limb extensions. These opening exercises are not merely warm-ups; they are the vocabulary of the dance, teaching the practitioner how to transition weight, pivot, and maintain the necessary posture—specifically the instruction to keep the toe pointed downward and the heel raised, which the author emphasizes as critical to the aesthetic of the form.

Once the foundation is laid, the narrative arc shifts into the execution of the dance itself. The author guides the reader through eleven unique, increasingly complex steps. Each step is structured with mathematical rigor, divided into parts of one bar each, with clear instructions on hand positioning—usually alternating between hands on the hips and one arm raised to form a rounded, graceful silhouette. The text maintains a steady, rhythmic cadence, carefully explaining how to alternate legs and how to turn precisely one-fourth on each hop.

As the steps progress, the movements become more intricate. The reader is introduced to the "heel and toe" movement in step three, the "dash" toward the floor in step ten, and the crossing of feet while running forward and backward in step seven. The progression is constant, moving from basic hopping and extending to more demanding combinations that require coordination of the entire body. The instructions are punctuated by "cautions" and "notes" that act as the instructor’s voice, correcting common mistakes—such as extending a foot too far or failing to keep the heel close to the calf.

The arc reaches its conclusion in the final section, where all previous lessons culminate in a rapid-fire sequence of hops and turns. After the final, intense repetition, the instructions simply conclude with the directive to "bow and retire." Following this technical finale, the book transitions into a professional postscript, featuring a list of subscribers and testimonials from contemporary dance instructors. This conclusion grounds the manual in its historical reality, revealing the author as a busy professional in Buffalo, New York, who clearly viewed his work as a contribution to a broader, interconnected community of stage dancers and teachers.

How It Unfolds

The foundation of movement The text begins by establishing the necessity of preparatory exercises to build the required muscle memory for the fling. It introduces a system of notation using the letters R and L to denote footwork, ensuring the reader understands the mechanics before attempting a full sequence.

The anatomy of the fling Each of the eleven steps is meticulously broken down into "parts," which dictate the movement for every single bar of music. The narrative follows a pattern of alternating feet and hands, with frequent turning movements that require careful physical discipline.

Increasing complexity Midway through the manual, the steps evolve from simple hops and extensions to more taxing movements like crossing feet while running. These middle chapters demand greater spatial awareness and agility, reflecting the increasing difficulty of the dance.

The final performance The book concludes with a high-energy final sequence that asks the dancer to increase the tempo of the music. It ends abruptly with the stage directions to bow, marking the completion of the instructional journey.

The People

The central figure is the author, a self-identified "Professor" of dancing who acts as an exacting, authoritative mentor. He is deeply invested in the technical purity of the Highland fling, viewing dance as a discipline governed by "laws of opposition" and precise bodily geometry. His primary goal is to impart this knowledge to a wider audience, moving them toward "more difficult steps" through a methodical, patient approach. He is, by his own admission, a man overwhelmed by his professional responsibilities, yet he remains committed to the craft of teaching.

Opposite him is the student, who is envisioned as someone needing clear, rigorous guidance. The student is tasked with a difficult physical challenge: mastering the Highland fling’s rapid, hopping footwork and the artistic use of the arms. The barriers they face are both physical—the difficulty of crossing feet while running backward, for example—and intellectual, as they must internalize the author’s complex system of counts and positions. By the end of the manual, the student is expected to have transitioned from a beginner to a performer capable of the "final" routine, having been transformed by the discipline of the exercises.

In Its Own Voice

The movements of the feet will be changed from R to L.

This note appears during the explanation of hand movements, underscoring the author's emphasis on the synchronization required between the upper and lower body.

As the effect of the dance depends largely upon the artistic movements of the hands, this exercise should be well studied.

This advice follows the specific instructions for arm placement, highlighting the author's belief that the grace of the dance is inseparable from its technical precision.

In bringing the L around from front to back, or back to front, it should be carried as closely as possible to the calf of the R leg, the toe always well pointed down.

This warning, embedded in the first step, illustrates the author's demand for anatomical accuracy and aesthetic discipline.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is about the imposition of order upon movement. It argues that dance is not an intuitive or haphazard pursuit but a technical one, governed by immutable laws of balance, opposition, and timing. The author treats the human body as an instrument that must be tuned through repetitive, specific exercises. Beneath the technical instruction lies the question of how to preserve a traditional, athletic form of dance in a modern, theatrical context. The manual seeks to bridge the gap between folk tradition and stage performance, insisting that the "artistic" effect is only possible once the dancer has mastered the mechanical rigor of the steps.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate the beauty of a well-made technical manual will find this book deeply rewarding. It offers a rare, granular look at the mechanics of Highland dance, stripped of modern flourish and presented with the directness of a teacher speaking to a pupil. It feels like stepping into a turn-of-the-century studio; you can almost hear the metronome ticking as you read the precise counts.

However, the book is not a narrative; it is an instruction manual. It lacks historical context, character development, or anecdotal fluff, which may be a challenge for those looking for a light read. The terminology is specific to its period and trade, and the constant repetition of "hop on L, extend R" requires a level of patience and focus that feels almost meditative. You read it not for the plot, but for the clarity of its vision and the uncompromising standards it sets. It serves as an essential primary source for anyone interested in the history of dance pedagogy or those curious about the physical rigor required by early stage performers. Its warmth comes not from sentiment, but from the author's genuine desire to share the "new ideas" he has cultivated for his peers.