Patti Smith first presents an original and beautifully crafted tale of obsession--a young skater who lives for her art, a possessive collector who ruthlessly seeks his prize, a relationship forged of need both craven and exalted. Still, it makes me feel naive as a reader when I don't see the obvious idea in the narrative because I'm distracted by its illusion of reality. The second, largest, part of the book is a long story about a skater, a young skater like a young Simone Weil, a pure artist. It’s not that great or even that compelling a story, one of lost innocence, but I like how it gives evidence to her theory; The figure skater, images from an Estonian film, Weil, Modiano, Camus, a visit to a French cemetery, they’re all here in her story.

In her late-life self discovery as a prose master, Patti Smith may have found yet another masterful voice. I like exploring people’s minds and their creativity, and while this certainly was interesting to dig her brain in this manner, I wanted to know more about the nitty gritty of her writing life.A work of creative brilliance may seem like magic--its source a mystery, its impact unexpectedly stirring. She’s in her seventies now, having survived a husband and a long time partner, Robert Mapplethorpe, and is still writing and making music. Time and again, we hear that Patti Smith 'travels light'--which is interesting to me, in that yes, she packs in a minute, heads out to pay devotion to any number of cultural figures--in this section its Simone Weil, who merges with Modiano and that Estonian film.

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Devotion is short enough to devour at one enjoyable sitting and thought-provoking enough to deserve re-reading. Smith tracks down Simone Weil's grave in a lonely cemetery, hours from London, and winds through the nameless Paris streets of Patrick Modiano's novels. O kafe senin bu kafe benim dolaşıp en kuytu köşelerde kitaplar okuyor, hüzünlü notlar alıyor, anılarımızı bozuk pikaplar gibi sarıp sarıp oynatıyoruz yeniden zihnimizde. In this open exploration of the written word, we travel through the South of France to Camus’s house, and visit the garden of the great publisher Gallimard where the ghosts of Mishima, Nabokov, and Genet mingle. A obra de arte é o que desperta em nós não a vontade de contemplação mas a vontade de também criar algo.

I enjoyed Dedication immensely and especially appreciated translator Paula Taberland's Afterword with its summary of Patti Smith's career and especially of her published work, of which I was previously only familiar with the terrific memoir Just Kids (2010). While in Paris, Smith takes the occasion to visit the graves or homes of artists she sees as touchstones for her life and work: Albert Camus, Simone Weil, Patrick Modiano.Harold Bloom's The Anxiety of Influence points out how ungenerous--even hostile--literary homage can sometimes be. Na última parte 'A dream is not a dream', Patti conta sobre o convite que recebeu para visitar a casa de Camus numa cidade no interior da França. She has released twelve albums, including Horses, which has been hailed as one of the top one hundred albums of all time by Rolling Stone.

It wasn't terrible or anything, but there is nothing about it that would make me recommend it to anyone. Un acertijo familiar que me he planteado desde la juventud, algo que me privaba del juego, de los amigos, y del valle del amor, presa de las palabras, siempre un poco desplazada.Ela precisa correr, arrumar a mala e, com isso, não tem muito tempo de escolher o livro que vai levar na viagem. I think this would’ve been solved if I wasn’t under the notion that this would be a memoir, but it wasn’t completely one. The right book can serve as a docent of sorts, setting a tone or even altering the course of a journey. A work of creative brilliance may seem like magic-its source a mystery, its impact unexpectedly stirring.