上世纪六七十年代的纽约氤氲着浓浓的艺术气息，文学、音乐、视觉艺术等领域都在不安地躁动着，激荡着，澎湃出一个艺术上的黄金年代。彼时，彼地，两位日后会发出耀眼光亮的文艺青年谱写了一段极为深厚、动人的情谊。
　　1967年，他们在布鲁克林偶遇。她是揣着对艺术的满腔热忱流浪在纽约街头的女孩，他是为了追求艺术而与父亲的期望背道相驰的男孩。同一个艺术梦把他们的生命紧紧联结在了一起。
　　从蜗居在霍尔街160号到穿梭于充满文艺味儿的切尔西酒店；从对“马克斯的堪萨斯城”里安迪·沃霍尔的著名圆桌满怀向往到在传奇的CBGB酒吧里占有一席之地；从两人分吃一个三明治到他为她的首张专辑、史上最伟大的100张唱片之一《Horses》拍下那幅极经典的封面照片……20年来，他们是爱人、挚友、灵魂伴侣和彼此的缪斯，相依相偎，不离不弃，相互拉扯着对方成长为艺术史上两颗闪亮的明星。她是帕蒂·史密斯——将诗歌和摇滚相结合的朋克摇滚女王；他是罗伯特·梅普尔索普——以风格大胆前卫著称的先锋摄影大师。
　　1989年，罗伯特因艾滋病离世。临终前，他请求帕蒂把他们的故事写出来。2010年，《只是孩子》出版。
　　这本书以爱情故事开始，以挽歌终结。它是对六七十年代的纽约的致敬，是两位艺术家共同奋斗的真实写照，是成名前的一段序曲。在艺术面前，他们由始至终只是两个睁着好奇的眼睛孜孜求索的纯真孩子。
　　本期书屋的选段描述了帕蒂和罗伯特相识伊始的情形，由帕蒂·史密斯本人朗读。
　　We walked around until two in the morning and finally， almost 1）simultaneously， revealed that neither one of us had a place to go. We laughed about that. But it was late and we were both tired.
　　“I think I know somewhere we can stay，” he said. His last roommate was out of town. “I know where he hides his key； I don’t think he would mind.”
　　We got the subway out to Brooklyn. His friend lived in a little place on Waverly， near the 2）Pratt campus. We went through an alleyway where he found the key hidden beneath a loose brick， and let ourselves into the apartment.
　　We both fell shy when we entered， not so much because we were alone together as that it was someone else’s place. Robert busied himself making me comfortable and then， in spite of the late hour， asked if I would like to see his work that was stored in a back room.


　　Robert spread it out over the floor for me to see. There were drawings， 3）etchings， and he unrolled some paintings that reminded me of 4）Richard Pousette-Dart and 5）Henri Michaux. 6）Multifarious energies radiated through 7）interweaving words and 8）calligraphic line. Energy fields built with layers of word. Paintings and drawings that seemed to emerge from the subconscious.
　　There were a set of discs intertwining the words EGO LOVE GOD， merging them with his own name； they seemed to 9）recede and expand over his flat surfaces. As I stared at them， I was compelled to tell him of my nights as a child seeing circular patterns radiating on the ceiling.
　　He opened a book on 10）Tantric art.
　　“Like this？” he asked.
　　“Yes.”
　　I recognized with amazement the 11）celestial circles of my childhood. A 12）mandala.
　　I was particularly moved by the drawing he had done on 13）Memorial Day. I had never seen anything like it. What also struck me was the date： 14）Joan of Arc’s feast day. The same day I had promised to make something of myself before her statue. 　　I told him this， and he responded that the drawing was symbolic of his own commitment to art， made on the same day. He gave it to me without hesitation and I understood that in this small space of time we had mutually surrendered our loneliness and replaced it with trust.


　　We looked at books on 15）Dada and 16）Surrealism and ended the night immersed in the slaves of 17）Michelangelo. Wordlessly we absorbed the thoughts of one another and just as dawn broke fell asleep in one another’s arms. When we awoke he greeted me with his 18）crooked smile， and I knew he was my knight.
　　As if it was the most natural thing in the world we stayed together， not leaving each other’s side save to go to work. Nothing was spoken； it was just mutually understood.
　　For the following weeks we relied on the generosity of Robert’s friends for shelter， notably Patrick and Margaret Kennedy， in whose apartment on Waverly Avenue we had spent our first night. Ours was an attic room with a mattress， Robert’s drawings 19）tacked on the wall and his paintings rolled in a corner and I with only my 20）plaid suitcase. I’m certain it was no small burden for this couple to harbor us， for we had 21）meager resources， and I was awkward socially. In the evenings we were lucky to share the Kennedys’ table. We pooled our money， every cent going toward our own place.


　　我们一直逛到凌晨两点，最后几乎同时坦白，原来我们都无处可去。我们不由得笑了出来。不过时间确实很晚了，我们也都累了。
　　“我知道有个可以过夜的地方，”他说，他的上一个室友出城了。“我知道他把钥匙藏在哪儿，我觉得他不会介意的。”
　　我们乘地铁去了布鲁克林。他朋友的蜗居在韦弗利大道，就在普拉特艺术学院附近。我们穿过一条窄巷，在一块松动的砖头底下找到了钥匙，进了那所公寓。
　　一进公寓门，我俩忽然都不好意思起来。倒不是因为孤男寡女独处一室，而更多是因为那是别人的屋子。为了让我能自在一点，罗伯特忙里忙外，然后，不顾时间已晚，他问我要不要看他存放在后面房间里的画。
　　罗伯特把画都铺在地板上给我看。有素描，有蚀刻版画，有些油画还让我想起了理查德·波赛-达特和亨利·米肖。各种各样的能量从交织的词语和书法线条中辐射而出，层叠的词语构筑成了能量场。那些油画和素描仿佛是从潜意识中浮现出来的。


　　有一套圆盘上面，“自我、爱、上帝”这几个字眼缠绕在一起，他自己的名字也融于其中，它们似乎在这些圆盘上面不断地消退、扩散。看着它们，我忍不住告诉他，我小时候曾在夜里看到天花板上有辐射状的圆形图案。
　　他翻开了一本关于密宗艺术的书。
　　“像这样的吗？”他问。
　　“对。”
　　我惊异地认出了那些童年记忆里的天体大圆。那是一种曼荼罗。
　　尤其触动我的，是他在阵亡将士纪念日画的那幅素描，我从没见过这样的画。同样令我震撼的是那个日期：圣女贞德节。正是同一天，我曾在她雕像前发誓要搞出自己的名堂。
　　我把这些告诉了他，而他告诉我，这幅画也象征着他自己对艺术的承诺，也是在这同一天里所作出的承诺。他二话没说就把画送给了我。我明白，在这短短的时间里，我们交付了彼此的孤独，又用信任填补了这孤独。
　　我们翻看着达达主义和超现实主义的画册，沉浸在米开朗基罗的奴隶像里，结束了这一夜。我们默默地吸收着彼此的思想，在破晓时分相拥而眠。醒来时，他用他那狡黠的笑容向我致意，我知道，他就是我的骑士。
　　我们就这样再自然不过地在一起了，除了去上班，彼此形影不离。什么也不用说，我们心心相印。
　　接下来的几个星期，我们的栖身之处完全仰赖罗伯特朋友们的慷慨相助，尤其是帕特里克和玛格利特·肯尼迪，就是在他们韦弗利大道上的公寓里我们第一次一起过夜。我们住的是一间阁楼，里面有一张床垫，墙上钉着罗伯特的素描，墙角放着他卷起的油画，而我唯一的东西只有一个格子呢旅行箱。我敢说，对这对夫妇而言，收留我们肯定负担不小。要知道，我俩没什么钱，我也不擅长交际。我们很幸运，晚饭都是白吃肯尼迪夫妇的。我俩把钱攒起来，每一分钱都是为了日后能够租住自己的地方。
　　译文参考自广西师范大学出版社版本，有改动刘奕 译


　　帕蒂·史密斯（Patti Smith，1946-），美国创作歌手、诗人、视觉艺术家。她在20世纪70年代创造性地将诗歌和摇滚这两种艺术形式相结合，发行于1975年的首张专辑《Horses》对纽约的朋克摇滚运动有重要影响，她因此被誉为“朋克摇滚桂冠诗人”（Punk’s Poet Laureate）和“朋克教母”（Godmother of Punk）。同时她中性的公众形象和非女性的语言风格也挑战着传统。
　　史密斯最广为传播的歌曲是她与布鲁斯·斯普林斯廷（Bruce Springsteen）合作的《因为这夜》（Because the Night），该歌曲在1978年的“Billboard Hot 100”中排名第13位。2004年，《滚石杂志》颁布的百位摇滚重要人物名单中，史密斯名列第47位。2005年，她被法国文化部授予艺术与文学勋章，这是法国授予一名艺术家的最高荣誉。2007年，史密斯入选摇滚名人堂。她还获得过两项格莱美奖提名。2010年，她的回忆录《只是孩子》获得美国国家图书奖。