Robert Mapplethorpe, "Untitled" (Patti Smith) 1973
A couple of weeks ago I finally finished Patti Smith's best-selling book, Just Kids. It documents Smith's escapades in the New York City art circle during the tumultuous late sixties, and the beginning and the end of the life-changing relationship she shared with Robert Mapplethorpe.
Smith is a legend and an icon, and this memoir captures the magic of her rise to success. One feels honored to be told her secrets, and privileged to know the details of her intimate, ever-changing relationship with Mapplethorpe. This is by far, one of the best pieces of nonfiction writing I have read. I will suggest it to everyone, although it is better suited for those with a love of Smith, and some knowledge of sixties pop culture so that when Smith tells you Allen Ginsberg was in the audience of her readings you can grasp the high level of talent that saturated Smith's world.
Yes, some will appreciate this book more than others, but I think it can be appreciated by all who love 'love.' This is not a love story. It is a story about love. Love of art, love of creation, and a love between two people that thrived off change.
"We needed time to figure out what all of this meant, how we were going to come terms and redefine what our love was called. I learned from him that often contradiction is the clearest way to truth."
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