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.
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