I
had no idea what I was stepping into when I picked this book up. To be
fair, I only wanted to read it because Steve Martin wrote it. I saw him
on The Colbert Report, and he talked so little about it. I passed it
several times in the bookstores, thinking next time I'll pick it up.
Then I found it in the dollar store, and had to buy it. Then it sat
unread in my room for 6 months. With nothing left to read, I started it a
month ago...
What I will say is this; This ain't no comedy. It ain't
the three amigos, and it sure as hell ain't Bowfinger...this is a
beautifully written story of a world I never knew existed. And of one
incredible woman who lived it entirely, loved it wholly, and seemed
untouchable by its ever grinding gears.
I was afraid my complete
lack of art world knowledge would render this unreadable, but the author
describes these paintings in a manner even I could understand. And the
little history lessons about the paintings shows his passion for the
theme.
Now, the Story is about Lacey Yeager, as seen through the eyes of her friend, co-conspirator, and one time lover. Lacey Yeager is an up and coming art dealer, who gets her start at Sotheby's Auction House, and begins to develop a knack for guessing which pieces will sell best, and which will flop. She is by far what I would call the epitome of an anti-hero, in which I mean that I don't like her, but I do love her. In that everything she does is wrong, but not so wrong. I understand. She gets herself into trouble, and I wanna forgive her for it...but trouble has a way of catching up with us all in the end.
The majority of the story is set in New York, and I think Steve Martin has done an incredible job of capturing the city. The author also crafts some of the most beautiful sentences
I've read in modern literature. A great many paragraphs are glided
through as if they were poetry. His timing is impeccable, and his
characters were almost all so well developed that I felt I knew them and
how they would react to certain situations.
To be fair, he lost a
star for the ending. I didn't care for it. It was...well, you read it,
and you tell me. I just didn't care for it. Though to be fair, I never
like the endings. I hate when I'm done with a book. It's just the worst
feeling ever. But it helps when the ending gratifies at least a bit.
Kudos Mr. Martin. I'll definitely be looking out for more of your work.
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