Just Kids by Patti Smith

Finally, by the sea, where God is everywhere, I gradually calmed. I stood looking at the sky. The clouds were the colors of a Raphael. A wounded rose. I had the sensation he had painted it himself. You will see him. You will know him. You will know his hand. These words came to me and I knew I would one day see a sky drawn by Robert's hand.

-Just Kids 

I can't say I knew much about Patti Smith before beginning Just Kids. I could have picked her out of a lineup, sure, and I knew of Horses. I'm pretty sure I've heard "Gloria." That's about all I had.

And I wouldn't have done much better with Robert Mapplethorpe, frankly, despite having majored in Art History. I knew photographs of flowers, and knew of some others that were somehow scandalous (though I don't know if I saw any slides of those ones, to be honest). I knew he'd died young.

So there was a lot to take in in Just Kids, which traces the relationship Smith and Mappelthorpe had, both romantic and artistic. It's also a portrait of New York City at a very particular time, a time of The Factory and the Hotel Chelsea and automats. I warmed quickly to Smith, but I especially loved reading about the city--a place I know--in a totally new way. It was really amazing to watch how Smith grew as an artist, from poet to rock and roll star, and how she encountered all the bright lights of that era in New York.  I loved hearing about her place in Brooklyn, about her going to Blick's Art Supply, about the bare-bones spaces she shared with Mapplethorpe in Chelsea (no bathroom, for one). In addition to recounting her history with Mapplethorpe quite beautifully, she also captures a moment in time. And I must say, I got teary when I read the passage I quoted above.

Up next: Almost nearly caught up! Drop Dead Healthy by A.J. Jacobs, which I just finished this afternoon.

The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern

"I don't know what I'm looking for," Tara responds, and for a moment her face crumples as though she might burst into tears, but then she composes herself. "Ethan, do you sometimes feel like you are dreaming, all the time?"

"No, I can't say that I do."

"I am finding it difficult to discern between asleep and awake," Tara says, tugging at her lace cuffs again. "I do not like being left in the dark. I am not particularly fond of believing in impossible things."

-The Night Circus 

The Night Circus tells the story of two unusual people, Marco and Celia. As children, they were selected to participate in a game--game doesn't seem like exactly the right word, given the nature of the thing. They spend years training, enduring gloomy, lonely childhoods in order to further their accomplishments in a very specialized field: magic. Not sleight of hand, but true, proper magic. Turning paper into birds, conjuring landscapes out of thin air. Magic.

A stage is set for them to compete. It's called the Night Circus, designed to be a spectacle like none other. Not just one tent, it's a series of tents, each more marvelous than the last. Only Marco and Celia know the true purpose of the circus, a chance for them to show their talents. They construct ever more elaborate illusions, but more to marvel at each other's skill than to really try to best their opponent. For Marco and Celia don't hate each other, far from it. Instead they find that the tie that has bound them for so long has bloomed into True Love (You know, The Princess Bride kind. Pirates and fire swamps and even death cannot tear them apart kind of love.)

I tried to keep my expectations low going into The Night Circus, because it had been fairly hyped and, even though I was quite intrigued by the premise, it seemed like a difficult concept to fully realize in execution. Kudos to Erin Morgenstern, though, for some amazing work. She really created a whole world that I loved visiting. I find it really remarkable that this is her debut novel, and must admit that I find it particularly cool that she initially developed it as a NaNoWriMo project. It's pretty inspiring stuff for any wannabe writers out there.

Up next: Just Kids by Patti Smith