Smiths genius clearly transcends music. Her use of structure and tone are effortless and visceral. I love how she starts her tale where one would usually end; with death. It was interesting how she used what was on television to illustrate what was going on in her mind at the time before Roberts passing, as well as the dream state of going about your day while having this heavy reality setting in. From this seeming end she takes us to the beginning of her journey.
She describes the walks she took with her mother in Humbolt. She recalls seeing a swan and thinking that the one simple word used to describe it was not enough to encapsulate its beauty; she marks the explosiveness of the birds movement. It is easy to see how her love of description seeped into her songwriting and into her biographical writing here. Her love for words and the feeling of a story though vivid detail is on display in full splendor.
When Smith talks about her time spent in Germantown Pennsylvania I was struck with imagery. How she describes this ideal scene of churned playing in the grass as parents sit around smoking, drinking and enjoying the sun paints a picturesque far-cry from the streets of New York where she would later find fame. Her upbringing is not what I would have expected but thats what makes this piece so great; the tracing of the roots back to something that could easily be forgotten after being swept up in an entity like New York in the 1970’s.
Her exploration of the norms she never followed are also a great part of this piece. Talking about her hunger as an artist, her sexual experiences as well as her dismissal from college all form a clear image of who she became. This is the kind of piece I really can’t speak on because the power of it dwindles when it doesn’t come directly from the source (her). This is probably one of the best written and most interesting memoirs I have read.
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