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An Object of Beauty

3.47 of 5 stars 3.47 · rating details · 20,625 ratings · 2,129 reviews

Lacey Yeager is young, captivating, and ambitious enough to take the NYC art world by storm. Groomed at Sotheby's and hungry to keep climbing the social and career ladders put before her, Lacey charms men and women, old and young, rich and even richer with her magnetic charisma and liveliness. Her ascension to the highest tiers of the city parallel the soaring heights--and...more

Hardcover, 292 pages

Published November 23rd 2010 by Grand Central Publishing

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Aug 25, 2011 Mon rated it 3 of 5 stars

Shelves: art-and-architecture

Here's the million dollar question:
Without googling the respective http://www.goodreads.com/review/edit/... of the below artworks, what do you think is the similarity between them?

First off, paintings!

Now sculptures.

Ok I'm tired, I originally planned to do an installation, mixed media art comparison as well. Like I said, TIRED.

Ready?

For the paintings, the first one is Renoir's Le Moulin de la Galette, and the second one de Kooning's Woman 3. Both are some of the most expensive works on this...more

21 likes · like · see review

Jun 18, 2011 Malbadeen rated it 3 of 5 stars

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5 likes · like · see review

May 02, 2011 Stephanie rated it 5 of 5 stars

Shelves: favorites

what an amazing novel. Martin wrote with a beautifully prosaic voice, and kept me spellbound throughout. I highly recommend this novel, if not for the characters, story line, or art history lesson, then for the pictures, which I loved him adding. It sure saved me time from Googling them online, in order to refresh my memory.
Martin's descriptions of the art, and the era, were more than apt; they were precise and unerring. He knew the art world like he'd LIVED the art world, and knew all the chara...more

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Nov 29, 2010 Brian rated it 4 of 5 stars

The working title for this could have easily been N.Y. Story, which is a little bit of a surprise from the very-Californian Steve Martin. The book is a tour through close to two recent decades of NYC life, as seen through the prism of the city's art world. At times it seems like the art history lessons and plot/character bits were written separately and spliced together, but more often than not they hang together well enough. The book is a quick, enjoyable read that's especially tailored for New...more

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Dec 02, 2012 Gerald rated it 4 of 5 stars

Mixed review: Character study 5 stars. I really like Lacey Yeager for (no doubt, because of) all her faults. She is sexy, clever, manipulative, shameless, and almost totally heedless (though not quite). Humor 2 stars. While this story is not a melodrama, it's not a comedy either. Dry wit is the operative mode. I didn't find myself laughing. An occasional smile, I admit. Plot and storyline: 3 stars. I always wanted to know what would happen next. But in too many instances I was disappointed. Ther...more

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Apr 24, 2011 Danny rated it 2 of 5 stars

Shelves: fiction

As a giant Steve Martin fan, and one who loved his novels "Shopgirl" and "The Pleasure of My Company," I found his newest novel absolutely disappointing.

Taking place in the stuffy New York City world of fine art collecting and dealing, "An Object of Beauty" follows Lacey Yeager through her nearly two-decade career in Manhattan. The result is rather dull. While Martin's writing is well done, the story itself is forgettable in just about every way.

The story has more to do with how much art is wor...more

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Dec 01, 2010 Jennie rated it 3 of 5 stars

Steve Martin writes with the wink and nudge of a comedian cum art collector, archly satirizing the art world by putting words like “integrity” and “in dialogue” in quotes. But don’t expect Lacey, the novel’s social- climbing anti-heroine (who tends a little toward the sociopathic), to end up as the butt of jokes; Rather, Martin handles his girl’s missteps with a curious attention to detail. “An Object of Beauty” refers to the impossibly esoteric world of high art, with a running joke about Josep...more

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Jun 22, 2011 Kelly rated it 3 of 5 stars

Shelves: 21st-century, cultural-meetings, examined-lives, fiction, theonewithacrushontheprofessor, worlds-lost-dead-and-dying

About three-quarters of the way through this, I decided this book reminded me of something. The question of what it was started to bother me more than actual questions arising from the novel. At first, I thought it must be its resemblance to other novels written by smart men about fascinating, terrifying women they cannot either understand or, despite numerous injuries, quite break free of. The women where one can never completely decide if they are a heroine given their time and milieu, if they...more About three-quarters of the way through this, I decided this book reminded me of something. The question of what it was started to bother me more than actual questions arising from the novel. At first, I thought it must be its resemblance to other novels written by smart men about fascinating, terrifying women they cannot either understand or, despite numerous injuries, quite break free of. The women where one can never completely decide if they are a heroine given their time and milieu, if they are truly dull figments of the author’s imagination or simply villains wrapped in glamor. Thackeray’s Vanity Fair, Hemingway and Brett in The Sun Also Rises, Fitzgerald’s barely fictionalized Zelda in Tender is the Night, the invocation of the goddess in Venus in Furs, nor the operatic, condensed Romantic ideal (perhaps the one with the most sympathy towards the woman involved) of all of this, La Traviata. This book does have the same feeling of cleaning up, late at night, after the out of control party is over and this woman has trashed your house for the last time. It does have that feeling of Lost Generation elegy for a somewhat irresponsible world that nonetheless shines as it fades away- not the jazz age of the 20s, but the booming art world of the late 1990s and early 21st century.

But Martin isn’t to be classed with the authors that produced the works listed above. There are no broken vases here, no one has punched out a wall and left a mark. No, this one reminded me of a different kind of man, though one with very much the same story: the narrator from Ford’s The Good Soldier. This book is what happens when the polite, well-mannered, even courtly man in the corner gets extremely angry. Excuse him, he’s so sorry, but would you mind listening to him just for a moment while he tells you what happened to him- it really is very interesting, he won’t bore you, he promises. But he just has to get this out. This is the saddest story I’ve ever heard, Ford’s narrator says. A quick burst of emotion, grateful to have it out at last. Similarly, Martin’s begins with an exhausted, “I am tired, so very tired, of thinking about Lacey Yaeger, yet I worry that unless I write her story down, and see it bound and tidy on my bookshelf, I will be unable to ever write about anything else.” But once relieved of this initial emotion, he stops. The well-mannered man in the corner doesn’t change his personality simply because he is extremely angry- he can only tell you his story calmly, matter-of-factly, in a way that tries as much as possible to distance the story from himself after he’s begun telling it, almost as if he is embarrassed to admit why he needs to tell it. He is, after all, a very private person and he doesn’t know you very well.

The narrator is also interested in intellectual subjects, and while he tells his story, he can’t help but be distracted by the ideas that come up while he’s expressing his feelings. Thus, the story of Lacey Yaeger, the beautiful woman that Daniel (our narrator) has had a long and almost entirely friendly relationship with since college, becomes the story of the larger art-world that she is embedded in the 1990s. Like a long-form journalist who sets the scene and delves into background in order that his main subject might be understood, Lacey is only understood as a subject of her particular moment in space and time. A creation of it- a 21st century Becky Sharp- many of her actions are understandable in the light of the way things were, and what a woman in her situation had to do to make a success of it. Martin discusses everything about this world with the knowledge of someone who has spent a good deal of time observing and living it. He writes down his thoughts about the psyche of the collector, the knife-edge world between wealth and poverty dealers and gallery owners can live in, the reasons why someone’s relationship with a particular piece of art or type of art can change, and of course, the intertwined world of art and money.

The definition of “value” when it comes to art is really the central subject of this book. As the story progresses, we can usually tell the seasons changing by Martin’s remark about what kind of money is flowing into the art market, where the money is coming from, what is selling and what is not, how people assess the worth of their collections in different years- if a Picasso sells for an unheard of amount in one year, for example, all Picassos will be worth more that year, regardless of quality. Sometimes a spectacular sale of a particular artist can ratchet up the value of anyone classified in his particular movement or period. The monetary “value” of something rather than its spiritual or intellectual or sentimental or what-have-you-no-money-involved-value is almost always what is under discussion by those that populate the art world. While obviously deploring this, Martin is also fascinated by it. The curse of the intellectual man again- he has to examine the roots of people who feel this way, why they are collectors, dealers, artists even. Martin’s characters, despite this core of money, do pause at various points to discuss the art itself. Since I do not know very much about art (a minor in Art History in undergrad does not buy you very much in the way of information, it turns out, in case anyone was thinking about investing in that), I cannot say if Martin’s opinions are accurate or not, but I loved the way he discussed them, even minor subjects like why certain pictures should hang next to each other, or the way he does not understand the ‘commentary’ of Chelsea kids. Some of his descriptions can sound a bit like he is writing a piece for the New Yorker, which I don’t mind, per se, since I like his New Yorker pieces. Ultimately, Martin’s book works very well both as a metaphor for the “bubble” era when the “value” of things proved to be resting on nothing but air, as well as a fascinating look into a world that at least I probably would have no other way of seeing.

The only thing about all this is that the distance that a private, intellectual man telling a story puts between himself and his audience, even one about how he got hurt and compromised his values because of a woman, tends to make it difficult for the reader to get emotionally involved with the story. Unlike The Good Soldier where the narrator’s personality as the quiet guy who got caught up in a story that he didn’t belong in shone through the cracks far more often, and you saw his feelings in how he lied, struggled, had to take a minute, this story just slid along, flowing through my hands easily, never a moment where I had to stop to wince at something that happened to him. The Good Soldier's power was that the narrator started his story like this was something that happened to someone else, like he had nothing to do with it, and then we gradually saw he did. Martin's narrator admitted his complicity from the very first and then withdrew like he didn't have to prove it to me anymore after that. In addition, most of the characters were representative of something or someone, there to say what someone in their position would about art or money and disappear. They were not actual people. Even Lacey, the driving force of the book, is not so much a woman as a meditation on the spirit of an age- her epiphanies and moments are all stereotypical ones that I’ve seen written about in style sections over the past decade or are otherwise representative of gaining an education in art. I finished and just thought, “well, that was interesting.” I don’t remember feeling anything other than, “well, isn’t that interesting,” while I read it either. I mean, I laughed a few times- Martin tried his hand at some comedy of manners commentary which was rather amusing. But still, if the narrator hadn’t thought to remind me about his feelings again on the very last page, I probably would have forgotten about them. I wish he had done more with his framework rather than just using it as an excuse to deliver exposition and setting that would otherwise be out of place in experienced characters who don’t need to be told these things. I thought he missed an opportunity to make people care about what he was saying and maybe make it stay with them. Instead, I could put this down as easily as I could a magazine- with a sense of light interest in the various topics covered, a mental note to pass on an article to a friend I know who might be interested, maybe an approving feeling about myself for having read something intelligent and witty. But I want more of a relationship with a novel than that. Martin creates a world I wanted to look through the peep hole at enough to finish the work. But I never really got past the feeling that I was in one of the galleries he described, taking a pass through at something that sounded like it would be up my alley, pausing here and there to admire the technique of a piece, stopping at maybe one that I thought I saw something in, and then stepping back out to the street again to move on.

I don’t mean to discourage anyone from reading it, though. The bonus of this book is that with the way it is described, if you think you will like it, you probably will. It is well written, with funny and interesting observations, and he is obviously knowledgeable. I just wouldn’t expect to do more than like it.(less)

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Mar 21, 2011 Mary Ronan Drew rated it 5 of 5 stars

Recommended to Mary Ronan by: Les Rowe

Shelves: library-book

At the Academy Awards they always introduce the winners as “multi-talented.” Normally that means they can walk and chew gum at the same time. But in the case of Steve Martin, author of An Object of Beauty, an Emmy, Grammys, a very successful career as a comedian and actor, and two excellent books of fiction, not to mention a stageplay, screenplays, a children’s book, a comedy collection, and pieces for the New Yorker and the New York Times, qualify him as a 21st century Renaissance man.

My friend...more At the Academy Awards they always introduce the winners as “multi-talented.” Normally that means they can walk and chew gum at the same time. But in the case of Steve Martin, author of An Object of Beauty, an Emmy, Grammys, a very successful career as a comedian and actor, and two excellent books of fiction, not to mention a stageplay, screenplays, a children’s book, a comedy collection, and pieces for the New Yorker and the New York Times, qualify him as a 21st century Renaissance man.

My friend Les told me to read this novel and I’ve learned over the years that when Les recommends a book it’s worth my while to get my hands on it. Once again that has proven true. An Object of Beauty is so well written, so clever, so well plotted, so witty, filled with such lively characters and such an ironic view of contemporary art that it scintillates. I wish it were twice as long.

The story, which takes place in the New York City art world between about 1991 and 2009, is the tale of Lily Bart from Edith Wharton’s The House of Mirth. (Why Joyce Carol Oates, in a blurb on the back, compares it to The Age of Innocence, with which it has almost nothing in common, is a mystery unless she made an embarrassing error, and even more puzzling is why no editor caught the gaffe.) Lily Bart was innocent and brought down by rumors started by rivals but Lacey Yeager is far from innocent.

Lacey meets young, innocent, and somewhat passive Jamesian narrator when they are both students at the quintessentially southern Davidson College in North Carolina. When they both graduate and go to NY City to make their way in the art world they stay in touch. She becomes a dealer and he is a writer for an art magazine.

The book starts out with a couple of gentle teasers: “I am tired, so very tired of thinking about Lacey Yeager, yet I worry that unless I write her story down, and see it bound and tidy on my bookshelf, I will be unable to ever write about anything else.” From page 4: “It was apparent to everyone that Lacey was headed somewhere, though her path often left blood in the water.” Why can’t the now world-weary narrator forget her? Why must he write about her? Whose blood is it in the water? Could it be the narrator’s?

We quickly become fond of Daniel Chester French Franks (and with a name like that we see how he was drawn to the art world.) And we worry that he is out of his depth with this beautiful, brilliant, vibrant, witty, and unscrupulous woman who, starting as one of “the spice rack of girls at Sotheby’s,” works her way up through the years to owning her own gallery. The story is crisp and moves very quickly. The dialogue is laugh-aloud funny at times and the evolution of Lacey from naïve beginner to ruthless competitor is deeply engrossing. Trollope lovers will find it worth their while to take a look at this book.

2011 No 53 Coming soon: Triumph of the City, by Edward Glaeser
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Jan 13, 2011 Gail rated it 4 of 5 stars

Shelves: contemporary-fiction

Reading Steve Martin's new book is a pleasure best reserved for someone with an interest in art. Someone who can tell a Cezanne from a de Kooning. Not familiar with either? A Pollack from a Picasso, then, at the very least.

Being an art lover myself, I was quickly wrapped up in a storyline that, along the way, seemed less concerned with the outcome of its main character as in cluing readers in to the inner workings of the art industry (high-stakes game of curators, collectors, auction houses and...more Reading Steve Martin's new book is a pleasure best reserved for someone with an interest in art. Someone who can tell a Cezanne from a de Kooning. Not familiar with either? A Pollack from a Picasso, then, at the very least.

Being an art lover myself, I was quickly wrapped up in a storyline that, along the way, seemed less concerned with the outcome of its main character as in cluing readers in to the inner workings of the art industry (high-stakes game of curators, collectors, auction houses and galleries that it is). As you read, you wonder how much of this vision Martin brought to the table himself from his own knowledge of the industry and how much he had to research (was he shadowing employees at Christie's and Sotheby's?) However it was "Object" came to be, it's an impressive feat that leaves you in a bit of awe (and perhaps, occasionally saying to yourself, "This is Steve Martin? REALLY?!")

It's only been in recent months I've learned of Martin's avid love for art as both a collector and—if this novel is any indication—expert on the subject. I saw him promoting the book a few weeks ago on CBS Sunday Morning (http://tinyurl.com/2ea7o6k) and felt like we (as viewers) were seeing a staid side of him that, well, based on his work as comedian and actor, I never knew the man had in him. Turns out, I love this side of Steve Martin just as much, if not more, as *that* Steve Martin, the one who always makes me laugh on screen. (and when he told Rita Braver he owned an Edward Hopper, I might have swooned a bit. AN EDWARD HOPPER. MY FAVORITE AMERICAN ARTIST!)

The story follows the life of Lacey Yeager, a young, vivacious woman determined to make her way to the top of the art scene, and is told through the perspective of her friend, Daniel (for reasons that become clear by novel's end). While it falters in certain parts (and lazily relies on a few too many major current events for its plot points), it's a solid read, particularly for those of us whose idea of a good time is a stroll through a museum.

Also worth mentioning? The book has one heck of an opening line: "I am tired, so very tired of thinking about Lacey Yeager, yet I worry that unless I write her story down, and see it bound and tidy on my bookshelf, I will be unable to ever write about anything else."

How could you not be drawn in after that?

(less)

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Jul 05, 2011 Heather rated it 4 of 5 stars

It's true, I like Steve Martin's books. I like that this made me interested in lots of art world details that normally I couldn't give a hoot about. And how the real world and events in it (of the 90s etc) impact it.

I love that it was read by Campbell Scott (is he one of the best audiobook readers ever? Yes. Yes he is. Good at it AND you can remember how cute he is whenever you hear his voice), who is clearly a favorite for Steve Martin book reading.

Story = told from the POV of a Nick Carraway...more

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Aug 12, 2012 Kelly rated it 2 of 5 stars

It's not that this book was bad. It's just that its content didn't interest me. It was an interesting insight into the art world and the lives of people who have excessive amounts of money to spend. Also, I couldn't stop imagining Steve Martin as the author, which reminded me of watching a movie and then being unable not to imagine Leonardo DiCaprio as the main character while reading the book.

Favorite line: "Her knack for causing heartbreak was innate, but her vitality often made people forgive...more

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Feb 21, 2013 Paul Djupe rated it 4 of 5 stars

Whether for the art world commentary or the allegory about the state of nature, the pages turned quickly. Maybe that was because Kate picked up the large print edition for me. I am not that old.

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Mar 17, 2012 ☮Karen rated it 5 of 5 stars

I loved this book for its intelligence and originality. Steve Martin has been an art collector for years and his knowledge of the subject shines through here. My experience is limited but even so did not feel that I was in over my head as the book traversed the art world in New York from the 90's to 2009. The main character is Lacey Yeager, a beautiful, smart, shrewd businesswoman who steps over anyone to gain success, first at Sotheby's as a nobody, then finally owner of her own galleries. This...more

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Aug 08, 2011 Christine Kuchinsky added it

I tend to like Steve Martin's writing. He has a very upfront style. Good description, but not flowery - very straightforward. I liked the narrator's voice in the novel, though occasionally got very frustrated of his tolerance for Lacey - his friend, and the focus of the book. She's an ambitious woman with little regard for anything other than what she wants. She uses sex and sexuality, as well as a fairly sharp wit, to get what she wants, and the men in her life seem to be flummoxed by this. She...more

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Jun 03, 2013 Eric rated it 4 of 5 stars

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 thr...more

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May 27, 2013 Erica rated it 3 of 5 stars

This novel is sort of like Breakfast at Tiffany's as told by Nick Carraway: a detached fable of a brilliant, beautiful, semi-tragic woman who gallivants around the New York of a particular era on the strength of her luck, wits, and sex appeal, and with whom the narrator is sort a noncommittally in love.

It all goes down easy enough, but it takes two hundred pages for any shred of a plot to become visible, and even by the end it's unclear what was at stake - and, more importantly, for whom. One o...more

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Mar 27, 2013 Alice rated it 4 of 5 stars

I was talking about this book today and realized that I'd not ranked it here.

I like that Steve Martin's style is not pretentious, it is easy to read, yet not too flippant as is common to the modern style; you feel as if you're reading a BOOK, not a jumbled journal or rampant inner thoughts.

I like that his main female character did not have a golden heart -- she was herself, which was not surprisingly like if Steve perhaps woke up one day as a pretty woman. However, I enjoy his voice, and it is...more I was talking about this book today and realized that I'd not ranked it here.

I like that Steve Martin's style is not pretentious, it is easy to read, yet not too flippant as is common to the modern style; you feel as if you're reading a BOOK, not a jumbled journal or rampant inner thoughts.

I like that his main female character did not have a golden heart -- she was herself, which was not surprisingly like if Steve perhaps woke up one day as a pretty woman. However, I enjoy his voice, and it is not always the dominant tone; times when he was surprisingly insightful about a woman with these sorts of scruples (pratfalls or unflattering inner thoughts). It moves and ends believably to me as well. You do not hate her, nor are forced to try and love her, but one could not fairly describe her as a "good" person either. For the record, I feel the best definition of the (over-used) term "friend zone" is in the book -- best in part because I don't think Martin ever uses that exact term; one simply understands. Again, if there is a failing, it could be that Steve himself is not a very wicked person and therefore does not depict a world quite in that light either. Despite tossing in some wicked subjects.

My favorite part was how he spoke about art throughout the book; I liked those thoughts and paragraphs best, particularly as a person innocent to much of this world (despite enjoying drawing). His passion clearly comes through and I wonder (with a smile) how much of our character's thoughts are actually his own.

Our main character's true love affair is with paintings that trace her feelings, experiences, and lessons. She challenges us to wonder about her resolution and to like her at all, yet in the end, I think we can all find some element of ourselves we recognize, even if...we might not choose to be friends in real life. We come to know her. And understand. He bravely asks us to judge her, much as one might a painting on the wall -- a person -- like the art, acquiring value for aspects other than mere surface appearance. (less)

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Mar 17, 2013 George rated it 3 of 5 stars

I liked this book; I didn't love it. First of all, I really like Steve Martin and most of what he's done artistically. As I read the book, I pictured Martin as the narrator, not Daniel Franks, for whom I would have had to make up a mental image. Second, I enjoy fine art and the novel gives the reader a glimpse into the world of art dealers, collectors, galleries and auction houses. I very much enjoyed the collection of over 20 color photos of artists' works sprinkled throughout the book. Looking...more

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Feb 04, 2013 Ben Ho rated it 3 of 5 stars

Just had the best dentist appointment of my life (friendly, clear prices, online booking, neat video technology, efficient cleaning by the dentist instead of a hygeneist) on the 7th floor of the Gallery building in midtown Manhattan chock full of little art galleries selling both contemporary art but also niches like Duchamp and Picasso sketches. Walked into one, where a gallery girl (like the eponymous awful Bravo reality show) was listening to a live art auction, which was appropriate since I...more Just had the best dentist appointment of my life (friendly, clear prices, online booking, neat video technology, efficient cleaning by the dentist instead of a hygeneist) on the 7th floor of the Gallery building in midtown Manhattan chock full of little art galleries selling both contemporary art but also niches like Duchamp and Picasso sketches. Walked into one, where a gallery girl (like the eponymous awful Bravo reality show) was listening to a live art auction, which was appropriate since I just finished Steve Martin's Object of Beauty, about the contemporary art world over the past 20 years that starts off in the back rooms of Sotheby's.

The title refers to a line about when a painting goes from being an object of beauty to an object of value, or if you want to be fancy, the commodification of art. Though the title could be read also as the Objective of Beauty, or equally as a reference to the main character, Lacey Yeagar, an eager ruthless bright pretty young object, a gallery girl who is compelling and irresistible but ultimately empty and flat. She stands in contrast to the paintings that she sells the best of which pop and come to life. The book follows Lacey's career from art world debutante in the 1990s (like HBO's Marni) to running her own gallery in the present day (like HBO's Charlotte).

Calling it a novel is misleading, because there is no plot, no conflict, the characters don't change. The characters are mostly as lifeless and empty as a Popper street scene, a Chardin stil life, or a Warhol silk screen (perhaps intentionally), the book is more like what Sophie's World did for philosophy, or Atlas Shrugged for Objectivism, a portrait of the world of art commerce that hangs on a novel-like frame.

Given what I do for a living, its perhaps surprising that I know far about the aesthetic side of art rather than the commercial, so I was fascinated about the "insider's perspective" of art gallery careers, art patrimony from Russia to China, art criticism, art crime, art auctions, and the manufacture of value for something as inherently valueless as a dollar bill. All while bouncing around what are still fashionable Manhattan locales.

The book contains beautiful reproductions of a dozen or so paintings that does fairly well much of mostly American art (rendered beautifully in the kindle App), and does a nice job in helping appreciate these paintings through the mind of a collector.

While an enjoyable read (you can occasionally here Steve Martin's voice in the narration), it wasn't quite a rich experience, and I probably would have gained just as much from a long form New Yorker article on the same subjects.
Final Grade: C+(less)

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Jan 18, 2013 CëRïSë rated it 1 of 5 stars

Ugh. I like Steve Martin; I thoroughly enjoyed The Pleasure of My Company, and thought Shopgirl was pretty good, too (though not a great movie). I received this one as a Christmas present from my in-laws, and the book itself is definitely an object of beauty, with fine, heavy paper and lots of glossy art reproductions. The book itself, though, I didn't enjoy at all.

It could be that it made me feel insecure; it's about the art world--the world of contemporary art, at that!--and yet discussed a sc...more

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Dec 07, 2012 Ellen rated it 4 of 5 stars

I really like Steve Martin's writing. Shop Girl was such a beautiful, sweet tale. An Object of Beauty is not sweet, showing the underside of the New York art world. I've touched the edges of that world with artist friends and my work in museums and I can see that if I had made different choices at critical moments in my life, I might well have been another Lacey Yeager. Which is a disturbing thought as she is not a sweet, kind or likable person. Martin makes her a fascinating character study, th...more

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Nov 14, 2012 Elizabeth Sulzby rated it 3 of 5 stars

Shelves: audiobooks, fiction

This is just a brief reaction. November 12, 2012: Today's NYTimes had an article about Sotheby's being accused of selling a fraudulent statue. That reminded me of the character Lacey in Steve Martin's An Object of Beauty. His book is narrated by a young man who writes art reviews and has been friends with Lacey throughout most of her young and maturing adulthood. Lacey works as a low level assistant at Sotheby's but quickly figures out ways to use her wit and beauty to get elevated. Through a fe...more

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Aug 30, 2012 Karen Hansen rated it 4 of 5 stars

I like Steve Martin as an actor, but I really think that his talent shines as an author. While I must admit that his latest effort "An Object of Beauty" is the weakest of his three novels, it's still a strong novel and worthwhile read.

You must love and have a decent knowledge of Art and Art History to love this book. It's clear from this and Martin's other writings, that he has a deep love of art. This story frequently turns into Martin pontificating and often turning into a diatribe about the p...more

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Aug 15, 2012 Randy Auxier rated it 4 of 5 stars

Shelves: elevated-fiction

For decades people have been hesitant to praise Steve Martin in superlative terms from fear that to do so will identify said critic as having been overtaken by the trite and temporary. Martin is now 65 and I am beginning to believe it’s time for the public, if not the critics, to assess his achievements in more sober and longitudinal terms. Unlike other celebrity authors who publish their books as acts of self-indulgence, Martin is a real writer. Bit by bit, his offerings as a playwright, screen...more For decades people have been hesitant to praise Steve Martin in superlative terms from fear that to do so will identify said critic as having been overtaken by the trite and temporary. Martin is now 65 and I am beginning to believe it’s time for the public, if not the critics, to assess his achievements in more sober and longitudinal terms. Unlike other celebrity authors who publish their books as acts of self-indulgence, Martin is a real writer. Bit by bit, his offerings as a playwright, screenwriter, essayist, autobiographer, and novelist are whittling away the reservations of the critics (he won the public long ago). His latest work, An Object of Beauty, is likely to do more than whittle.

Encouraged by the commercial success of his novella Shopgirl (2000), Martin plunges fearlessly into shark-infested waters, describing feminine experience (including motives and private thoughts) from a masculine point of view. But Martin’s hide has gotten pretty tough and wouldn’t be tasty, at this point, to any circling feminists. If you don’t like this guy, don’t read him. You’re missing something that may well last for several generations, and which may, in 50 years, draw exasperated comments such as, “Can you believe they didn’t really notice this guy’s literary work during his lifetime?!?” But, hey, it’s also possible that I’m just a gushing fan.

An Object of Beauty is the sort of rags to riches to rags story that first intrigued Martin when he wrote The Jerk (1979). While funny in places, this is not comedic writing in the least. Rather, it mixes the psychological sensitivity of The Pleasure of My Company (2003) with the vivacity of Shopgirl (2000). It is the story of one Lacey Yeager, tracing her (not entirely ethical) rise in the New York art scene, and her subsequent misadventures once she has attained a level that exceeds her nerves, her wits, and her judgment. The story is character-driven, and the “object of beauty” in the title is actually Lacy herself. The story is told by her (male) college friend who is the witness to her life, and who doesn’t apologize for (only warns us that) he will adopt a more omniscient voice than he can warrant. We mainly forget about him as the story builds. Not knowing the plot, or where it is heading is part of the interest of the book, so I won’t say more about the plot, returning instead to the characters.

It has become fashionable on both screen and page to offer up characters with whom no one could wholly sympathize. I sometimes wonder whether literary and filmatic blueballs has replaced classical catharsis. Yet, unsatisfying as these characters are, I must admit I can see them easily in my mind’s eye and have no trouble believing I might meet them at a Chelsea opening – not that I want to meet them. Martin knows the art world has become annoying even to its own denizens, and he does nothing to sugar-coat that perception. The only admirable passion shining through is that art is, after all, irresistible. We can’t help ourselves, can’t take our eyes away. The prospect of owning an object of beauty transforms us into children on Christmas morning and parents on Christmas Eve all at the same time. These artistic morsels are the gifts adults give themselves.

If you don’t love art, really love art, this book may be a snooze. On the other hand, it has very nice reproductions of some of the coolest artwork of the last two centuries. I think the pictures are presented in such high quality to inspire in readers some semblance of the lust felt by the characters. It is effective. Martin has been a serious collector of art for over 30 years. His earliest essays on art are found in the collection of comic vignettes Cruel Shoes (1979). In spite of the comic setting, the short essays show genuine insight, especially regarding the complex interaction of art and art criticism. In 2001, Martin published a serious book of essays on his own art collection, a book that has drawn critical and academic praise.

Martin has been wise in his writing career to write about what he genuinely and intimately understands. But not only that. His affection for the subject matter has made possible the creation of complex characters held together by the same human weaknesses. The result is a strangely tender treatment of the characters and an uncontrived sense of plot. Indeed, one forgets the plot and becomes absorbed in what will happen to the characters – and in this novel, a number of paintings are characters. The art world will certainly deride and despise this novel. But the literary world may come to prize it pretty highly.
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Jul 30, 2012 Mai rated it 5 of 5 stars

Shelves: next-on-the-list

I ~~was~~ am completely charmed by this book.

Full disclosure: I wasn't expecting much of Steve Martin. I haven't read Shopgirl, and I think I was secretly expecting something lowbrow and full of the outlandish masquerading as the comic, The Jerk in novel form. But from the moment I opened the book to the first page, I was pleasantly surprised:

I am tired, so very tired of thinking about Lacey Yeager, yet I worry that unless I write her story down, and see it bound and tidy on my bookshelf, I will b

...more I ~~was~~ am completely charmed by this book.

Full disclosure: I wasn't expecting much of Steve Martin. I haven't read Shopgirl, and I think I was secretly expecting something lowbrow and full of the outlandish masquerading as the comic, The Jerk in novel form. But from the moment I opened the book to the first page, I was pleasantly surprised:

I am tired, so very tired of thinking about Lacey Yeager, yet I worry that unless I write her story down, and see it bound and tidy on my bookshelf, I will be unable to ever write about anything else.

That first sentence (okay, aside from the unnecessarily split infinitive) is practically pitch perfect. It sets forth the conceit of the book, a faux roman à clef, and gives you a glimpse of the relationship between the subject and the narrator: she is someone who has left an indelible imprint on his life, and writing this story is his attempt to move on.

I will tell you her story from my own recollections . . . [but if] you occasionally wonder how I know about some of the events I describe in this book, I don't. I have found that -- just as in real life -- imagination sometimes has to stand in for experience.

I love how this sentence forgives the narrator for knowing too much. A curious strength of this book is the distance of the narrator from the story. For much of it he is not directly involved, and so the narrative is more third-person than first-person, despite the directed-at-the-reader exposition I've quoted above. The wonderful thing about this is that it imitates, or perhaps even symbolizes, his relationship with Lacey: she is obviously important to him (he's writing her story, for God's sake), but he is also aware that he is not terribly important to her, so too many first-person sentences would exaggerate his significance to her story.

I also love this book for what it's not. It's not pretentious, despite the gorgeous color reproductions of artwork that are scattered throughout, and some almost tongue-in-cheek use of art-world argot. It isn't overly plotted, either; the story unfolds in a natural, lifelike way, by which I mean that it's not always exciting or dramatic, but there is almost always something worth observing. It doesn't try too hard to be profound, and despite raising a few questions of ethics I'm not sure there's any big moral to take away, just food for thought. (Or maybe not so much "food" as hors d'oeuvres: small, perfect bites that fill you up without your realizing it.)

And I love, LOVE the quiet, uncertain-but-hopeful note on which it ends. The last paragraph, like the opening sentence, is absolutely pitch perfect.(less)

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Jul 23, 2012 Nickolette rated it 4 of 5 stars

Shelves: contemporary

For someone who has at least some affinity towards art, “An Object of Beauty” will reveal many of the ambiguities in the art world. And it seems to me the form of the novel is the most befitting means for this to be delivered. "Who the #$&% Is Jackson Pollock?" is a documentary which brings some light on how the market works but is a sad and uninspiring story as a whole. Here the world of art is communicated on several levels. First, it shows how the auction houses work, then the collector’s...more

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Jul 11, 2012 Josh rated it 3 of 5 stars

Shelves: fun

I like learning about things through story. I could read a book about the trends of the New York Art scene but instead I read this book that told a story about a beautiful, eccentric woman [all stories are more interesting to me if they involve and beautiful woman, I don't have to see them, I'll believe the author's word] who studies art in college and moves to New York to have a go at making it big in the art world - not as an artist, but as one of the many well dressed, attractive, cultured, h...more

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Jun 17, 2012 Edmole rated it 2 of 5 stars · review of another edition

Throughout this book I felt guilty, as I did not enjoy this book on any level, but I love Steve Martin on many levels. It was like going to a friend's gig which is not too hot, and you can't shut off the critique centre of your mind. Thankfully, I did not have to have a pint with Steve Martin after, with him asking "So... what did you think?".

It's about the upward arc of a woman making her way in the world of art dealership. She is as vapid, unlikeable, phony and gimlet-eyed as the art world she...more

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Jun 03, 2012 Melissa rated it 3 of 5 stars

I have made no secret about it. I love Steve Martin as both a comedian and a writer.I've read "The Pleasure of My Company" "Pure Drivel" and, most pleasingly "Shopgirl". I loved the story of Mirabelle so much that I have regifted the text several times. Ah, so, I saw this latest book, An Object of Beauty, at my local library and I squealed with delight.

Part of the book expounds on the trends in art collecting over the past 20 years or so. I'm not involved in the art world in any way, shape, or...more

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About Steve Martin

Stephen Glenn "Steve" Martin is an American actor, comedian, writer, playwright, producer, musician, and composer. He was raised in Southern California in a Baptist family, where his early influences were working at Disneyland and Knott's Berry Farm and working magic and comedy acts at these and other smaller venues in the area. His ascent to fame picked up when he became a writer for the Smothers...more

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“I have found that-- just as in real life--imagination sometimes has to stand in for experience.” — 66 people liked it

“When someone less capable is ahead of me, I am not pleased. It makes me insane.” — 28 people liked it

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