I'm in that rosy period where you remember the book and the characters and you can think about it actively and productively and even authoritatively if you are in such a mood. It won't be long, though, before the particulars will fade and I will remember only broad outlines of things and then I will forget even that and only remember that I loved the experience of reading the book. It will turn into pure feeling. Hopefully, I will have room in my life for a re-read by then.
The last couple of days, I've been easing my way through the Patti Smith memoir of her life with Robert Mapplethorpe, Just Kids, on recommendation of Sarah Jane, and it's a fun glimpse into 70's NYC. My favorite moments are the scattered impressions she provides of fellow residents at the Chelsea Hotel. Harry Smith, in particular. It reminds me of my days living in the dorms at IU, to be honest.My other first impression is that Smith got taken for a ride by Mapplethorpe, who feigned an emotional connection to her until he could find a male lover with more money. She just seems so naive that it's hard to believe she made it at all there. But she did.

4 comments:
I think Patti Smith seems so innocent, as well.
I saw some interviews where people spoke unkindly about Mapplethorpe--saying he was manipulative. I wasn't as convinced as you seem to be!
I've read "Just Kids" and heard Patti Smith speak about her relationship with Mapplethorpe, and I came away with an impression of how deeply she loved him. I tend to think they were quite open with each other and accepting, even if reluctantly. I don't look on their relationship at all cynically. And I don't regard her as naive or innocent. A romantic, yes; but certainly not "taken for a ride".
Interesting. I don't really feel so harshly toward Robert as thought at first. He seems to have been as much of a mystery to himself as he was to Patti and is to us, so any manipulation on his part was probably unwitting, probably a natural consequence of growing up in an environment that didn't prepare him for or even give a name to the kind of sexual and artistic identity he developed.
I think that's how I felt about him--that he was such a mystery to himself. I felt a little sad for his younger self.
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