With that being said, let’s jump straight into the review! We get some lush backgrounds as she travels, which I very much enjoyed, and we get that classic Patti Smith prose that’s just music to our ears.
Named after a train line on the New York City subway, we follow Smith’s adventures going to cafes, being a writer, and some side trips away from the city along the way. While I was tempted to reach for the illustrated version of Just Kids, I grabbed the one book I actually hadn’t read yet, which was M Train. But, like so many books I’ve reviewed on this blog, I stumbled upon this while wandering the biography section in my library. I have a review on that one, find it here. I then read Devotion, which was a strange hybrid of memoir and fiction that I just didn’t understand. That and Crying in H Mart are my favorite memoirs, hands down. The first was her classic Just Kids, in which she recalls her relationship with Robert Mapplethorpe, and I don’t think anything could ever top the magic that Just Kids created. Woven throughout are reflections on the writer's craft and on artistic creation, alongside signature memories including her life in Michigan with her husband, guitarist Fred Sonic Smith, whose untimely death was an irremediable loss.This was my third Patti Smith memoir. We then travel across a landscape of creative aspirations and inspirations: from Frida Kahlo's Casa Azul in Mexico, to a meeting of an Arctic explorer's society in Berlin from the ramshackle seaside bungalow in New York's Far Rockaway that Smith buys just before Hurricane Sandy hits, to the graves of Genet, Plath, Rimbaud, and Mishima. M Train is a journey through eighteen "stations." It begins in the tiny Greenwich Village cafâe where Smith goes every morning for black coffee, ruminates on the world as it is and the world as it was, and writes in her notebook.
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