Patti Smith's Bread of Angels: A Wild Ride with the Poet of Punk
In a publishing landscape saturated with post-pandemic artist memoirs, Patti Smith effortlessly stands apart. The iconic poet who forged punk rock before achieving pop stardom, then retreating from the spotlight to raise a family, has in the 21st century re-emerged as a formidable literary and musical force. At 78 years old, Smith continues to live and breathe both art forms with astonishing vitality.
Her latest work, Bread of Angels, arrives as a surprisingly revelatory follow-up to her acclaimed 2010 memoir Just Kids and 2015's more meditative M Train. This new volume splits the difference, forming a more conventional autobiography that acts as both a prequel and sequel to her coming-of-age story. It traces her journey from a difficult childhood right up to the near-present, culminating in a striking narrative twist that circles back to her literal conception.
From Humble Beginnings to Artistic Awakening
The memoir begins with a Proustian flourish, weaving between the present and a distant past. Smith confesses to feeling like an outsider, wanting to "disguise the miniature Quasimodo trapped inside an awkward child's body". She introduces the powerful metaphor of her "rebel hump" – a perceived flaw she eventually learns to accept and harness.
Smith romanticises her childhood, spending a significant portion of the book's early pages on her first decade. She idolises her father, a damaged Second World War veteran who worked factory jobs to support the family, moving them from a Philadelphia rooming house into nearly condemned government housing before they finally settled in a modest new development in rural South Jersey.
A sickly child diagnosed with tuberculosis, Smith was sent to Chattanooga to quarantine with relatives. It was there she began her metaphysical inquiries, leading to enrolment in Presbyterian Sunday school. Her creative yearnings were evident early on; she recalls "outstretched fingers trying to reach the ivory keys" of her grandmother's piano and she kept scrupulous diaries. She frequently disappeared into reveries, once missing a morning of school after becoming engrossed in communing with a tortoise.
The Making of a Rebel Artist
Artistic destiny descends in stop-motion throughout the narrative. A young Smith refuses to salute the American flag in school, adhering to the Jehovah's Witness teachings her mother introduced her to. A first trip to an art museum ignites her imagination upon seeing works by Picasso and Modigliani. She finds equal inspiration in film (Lost Horizon), music (the Shirelles, Bob Dylan), and literature (Oscar Wilde, Arthur Rimbaud).
When art and religion inevitably clash, she makes her choice. "I was told that there was no place for art in Christ's Kingdom," she writes of an exchange with a church elder, "and I was counseled to consider what I truly believed in. But I knew what I believed in."
The tipping point arrives when a 19-year-old Smith announces she is pregnant. In solidarity, her brother confesses his own gender non-conformity. Smith gives her child up for adoption, heads to New York City, and begins the life famously chronicled in Just Kids. These formative years, including her profound relationship with soulmate Robert Mapplethorpe, are covered at a galloping pace compared to the childhood ramble.
The book reveals that Bob Dylan invited her to join the legendary Rolling Thunder Revue, only to bump her from the lineup on opening night. She hints at a love triangle involving herself, actor Maria Schneider, and billionaire Paul Getty. Smith also recounts her principled commercial missteps, such as refusing to alter the lyrics to "Pissing in a River" for radio or to lip-sync "Because the Night" on American Bandstand.
Retreat, Return, and Revelation
After a final show for 80,000 Italian fans and a pre-retirement counselling session with William S. Burroughs, Smith exited the public eye in 1979. The narrative pace slows as she moves to Michigan with MC5 guitarist Fred Smith. They build a bohemian life in an abandoned hotel, refurbish an old boat, and travel to far-flung artistic landmarks.
They marry with only their parents present, have children, and she writes while managing domestic life. The writing here is radiant and intimate, yet guarded. She alludes elliptically to marital troubles and her husband's health and drug history, declaring "his decline was the tragedy of my life." Fred Smith's death from heart failure in 1994 is followed by a cascade of other losses, which in turn trigger a creative rebirth.
Michael Stipe cold-calls her, "confessing he was somewhat intoxicated," sparking a long friendship. Allen Ginsberg urges her back to the stage. Tom Verlaine joins her band for a comeback tour. Dylan invites her to open shows and to sing a magnificent duet of "Dark Eyes". She captures this moment with her childhood hero indelibly, describing the intensity in his eyes and the realisation that the "raging young poet" was "just a man" and she was "just a widow."
The memoir concludes with new albums, endless tours, books, awards, and activism. In a beautiful twist of storytelling, she and her sister Linda discover a revelation about their lineage that realigns the architecture of her remarkable life. Yet, as the book makes plain, the Patti Smith the world knows ultimately gave birth to herself. She sang and wrote herself into being, and she is still writing her own extraordinary story.
