Just Kids: A National Book Award Winner
von Patti Smith
WINNER OF THE NATIONAL BOOK AWARDIt was the summer Coltrane died, the summer of love and riots, and the summer when a chance encounter in Brooklyn led two young people on a path of art, devotion, and initiation.Patti Smith would evolve as a poet and performer, and Robert Mapplethorpe would direct his highly provocative style toward photography. Bound in innocence and enthusiasm, they traversed the city from Coney Island to Forty-Second Street, and eventually to the celebrated round table of Max’s Kansas City, where the Andy Warhol contingent held court. In 1969, the pair set up camp at the Hotel Chelsea and soon entered a community of the famous and infamous, the influential artists of the day and the colorful fringe. It was a time of heightened awareness, when the worlds of poetry, rock and roll, art, and sexual politics were colliding and exploding. In this milieu, two kids made a pact to take care of each other. Scrappy, romantic, committed to create, and fueled by their mutual dreams and drives, they would prod and provide for one another during the hungry years.Just Kids begins as a love story and ends as an elegy. It serves as a salute to New York City during the late sixties and seventies and to its rich and poor, its hustlers and hellions. A true fable, it is a portrait of two young artists’ ascent, a prelude to fame.
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Just Kids: A National Book Award Winner
von Patti Smith
WINNER OF THE NATIONAL BOOK AWARDIt was the summer Coltrane died, the summer of love and riots, and the summer when a chance encounter in Brooklyn led two young people on a path of art, devotion, and initiation.Patti Smith would evolve as a poet and performer, and Robert Mapplethorpe would direct his highly provocative style toward photography. Bound in innocence and enthusiasm, they traversed the city from Coney Island to Forty-Second Street, and eventually to the celebrated round table of Max’s Kansas City, where the Andy Warhol contingent held court. In 1969, the pair set up camp at the Hotel Chelsea and soon entered a community of the famous and infamous, the influential artists of the day and the colorful fringe. It was a time of heightened awareness, when the worlds of poetry, rock and roll, art, and sexual politics were colliding and exploding. In this milieu, two kids made a pact to take care of each other. Scrappy, romantic, committed to create, and fueled by their mutual dreams and drives, they would prod and provide for one another during the hungry years.Just Kids begins as a love story and ends as an elegy. It serves as a salute to New York City during the late sixties and seventies and to its rich and poor, its hustlers and hellions. A true fable, it is a portrait of two young artists’ ascent, a prelude to fame.
Aktuelle Rezensionen(5)
Rezension von Liana Eine berührende Geschichte über Liebe, Freundschaft und das Künstler*innen Dasein :)
Rezension von George Patrick Hane“Just VIP’s” by Patti Smith starts as a genuinely moving portrait of young artistic friendship, but devolves into such an annoying celebrity-name-dropping-circle-jerk that it reads like this: <blockquote> <i>"We stumbled out of Max’s Kansas City where I’d just shared a cigarette with Janis Joplin while Andy sketched Lou in the corner, past the Chelsea Hotel where Dylan once told me Kerouac had written something profound on a napkin, and ended up at 8th street splitting our last forty cents worth of sandwiches because Robert had blown everything else on Persian bracelets that chimed like a prelude to a song I hadn’t written yet—and suddenly I remembered it was Rimbaud’s birthday, which made everything, including myself, feel terribly significant." </i> </blockquote> This book left one central question: Did Patti Smith really sacrifice everything for Art, or for being famous?
Rezension von Samira“I think they’re artists.” “Oh, go on,” he shrugged. “They’re just kids.” “A sleeping youth cloaked in light, who opened his eyes with a smile of recognition for someone who had never been a stranger.” —————— I just finished this & want to re-read it already.
Rezension von Franziska GieseckeThis was beautiful!
Rezension von kenOn a too-bright, too-warm-too-sudden day in April, I finished <i>Just Kids</i>. I could've finished it to the last page on the last leg of my bus commute with the setting sun lighting the serrated edge of the book but I didn't. More like I couldn't, because to be choked up and in tears in public transit is an experience I only imagined but never hoped to experience. The book on my lap, the James Jean postcard repurposed as a bookmark slicing the flesh of my arm, nudging me to keep on going. But I <i>can't</i>. Can't, as in, I am inconsolable. Can't, as in the stone of loss lodged in my throat keeps me from it. Can't, as in, I don't want to. I don't listen to Patti Smith as a musician/poet. This is the first of her work that I've read, and judging from my enjoyment of her language, this won't be my last. The clarity of her narrative voice provides more than an illumination to the artist's journey. Her relationship with her art, Robert, and Robert's art leaves me gasping, perhaps for want of it and for the delight of ever getting to know about it. Anyway, wow, I'm shook.