As the afterward by Ron Padgett makes clear, Joe Brainard’s I Remember is a meticulously crafted set of remembrances that only have the superficial appearance of being off-the-cuff. Brainard worked on various sets of his “I remember…” selections over the course of years, painstakingly printing them out by hand. Perhaps this is why there seems to be so little that is superfluous. Even very small remembrances seem utterly apt. It is surely a difficult technique which must often produce fatuous results in the many writing schools where it has been adopted as an exercise.

I found that the collection both reveals a very particular Joe Brainard to the reader even as it seems to cast a veil over him. But maybe that’s because I’m a suspicious reader. And there really isn’t a need to be here. Perhaps. In any case, this makes for a sometimes pleasant and always interesting read.

Recommended. ( )

Amé este libro. Es divertido, es profundo, es revelador, es cercano, todo a partes iguales. Es un libro maravilloso. ( )

This is a very simple, but gloriously unclassifiable, idea: a list of about a thousand short prose poems, all starting with "I remember", and touching on memories of the author's childhood in provincial America in the 40s and 50s (Tulsa, Oklahoma) and his adult life as a gay man and visual artist in New York City, arranged in an apparently haphazard sequence that breaks down chronology and make us focus on patterns of ideas, images and emotions. It's funny, touching, serious, trivial, profound, naive and very clever, somewhere between American graffiti and City of night. A great assemblage of observations of middle-class, middle-American cultural trivia, interspersed with inept sexual experimentation and serious bar-cruising. Great fun! ( )

Con la fórmula de comezar cada frase con "Me acuerdo", Brainard hace un recorrido cultural y sentimental por los Estados Unidos de los 50-70 con mucho humor pero a veces profundo.
La originalidad del texto permite una lectura fácil y el autor nos lleva muchas veces a la carcajada, sobre todo cuándo te ves reflejad@ en algunos de sus recuerdos. ( )

"Lo primero que haremos", Manuel Rodríguez-Rivero, Babelia 02.05.2020: https://elpais.com/cultura/2020/04/30/babelia/1588239212_882627.html