Ever since the days of the "Wild and Crazy Guy" and "King Tut," I have loved Steve Martin. His acting career has continued to be great and diverse. Less well-known is his writing career. An Object of Beauty is his third novel, after Shopgirl and The Pleasure of My Company. The bad news is, I don't think it's as good as the first two; the good news is, it's not bad, especially if you're a Steve Martin fan.
Lacey Yeager takes her newly minted art degree to New York and thrives in the heart of the art world. She moves easily between the wealthy investors and older works, and the younger artists and their edgier works. Starting at the bottom rung, cleaning up minor paintings at an auction house, she moves up quickly due to her good looks, art savvy, and grey morality. I can't help but think Lacey is the product of Martin's middle-aged (or dirty old man) mind. She's head-turning gorgeous, she knows it, and she has an unquenchable libido. Getting her in bed is no great feat. Of course, she leaves a trail of men who got her into bed, but couldn't hold on to her heart.
While tracing Lacey's exploits in art and love, Martin fills the novel with a guide to the world of expensive art. (I know that's probably a gauche way to describe it, but I'm still not convinced that great art and expensive art are one in the same.) Much like Tom Wolfe, Martin has the eye of a reporter, giving the reader a tour of the galleries and auction houses of New York and a guide to the people who make their money and spend their money there. At times I thought he looked at this world approvingly, joining art patrons' disdain for those who would say, "They paid $4 million for THAT!" At other times, I thought he would join the scoffers, who can't believe the high prices people pay for a painting, or the inane non-art that passes off as art.
An Object of Beauty was an enjoyable read. Martin's descriptions and characterizations are terrific, and his portrayal of the art world is engaging and, presumably, informative. But the story, well, it sometimes seemed like it was building toward something better, but never really delivered. I could take it or leave it.
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