The Auctioneer was a dreadful book. I instantly hated Simon de Pury. This book was 95% name dropping, and 5% meaningful content. I had no illusions that the art world was steeped in rich people wanting to make good investments, but this book made me feel ill about what happens to good art. I will say that de Pury does seem to legitimately love art, but that is where my admiration of him ended. Also working against this book is the format it follows. I knew nothing about de Pury, and to be dropped into the middle of his life without any sort of introduction was jarring. ( )

I am not on for nonfiction, but I did find this very entertaining. How people can spend millions of dollars on a painting? While listening to the tape I was going to my 9 to 5 job, at least it kept my mind off of the long commute and gave me a glance into a world I can only dream about, but who knows what tomorrow will bring. ( )

I am sorry to say that I really did not care for this audiobook. I thought that the subject would be really interesting- it was anything but. It seemed to be a mishmash of stories with no real point. There was a tremendous amount of name-dropping done. Unfortunately, I recognized very few of them. The author alternately bragged and put on his humble suit. It was tiring and not terribly interesting. Making the audiobook more unpleasant was the narrator. He read rather emphatically and that was tiring as well. I also did not like hearing Van Gogh referred to as Van Goff. Several of the narrator's pronunciations were annoying.

Would not recommend, I am afraid. But thanks to LT Early Reviewers Program for the chance to dislike it first. (they can't all be winners) ( )

I received a copy of this book on CD through Library Thing's Early Reviewer Program.

I have to say that I found this title hugely disappointing. It had some enjoyable moments, but amounted to little more than poorly organized braggadocio. I just cannot recommend this title. ( )

I had several reactions while listening to Simon de Pury's Auctioneer: Adventures in the Art Trade, a copy of which I was pleased to receive through the LibraryThing Early Reviewers scheme: (1) Wow, this man can name-drop. (2) For an audiobook to "work," the book has to be written to be read aloud--not read on the screen or page. (3) The narrator struggles with Japanese names but seems to do pretty well with European-language names and phrases. (4) WOW, this man can name-drop (yes, again). So, if you're into memoirs of the type that reveal details about folks who jet-set around with the Hollywood, oligarch, royalty (and quasi-royalty), and 1-percent-of-the-1-percent types, this memoir is definitely for you. I'm hard pressed to think of a movie star, musician, world leader, supermodel, famous architect, business leader, or contemporary artist--from, say, the 1950s to the present--whose name doesn't make an appearance.

Rather unexpectedly, perhaps, I found the stories and recollections of Peter Wilson (of Sotheby's, d. 1984) and Hans Heinrich Thyssen-Bornemisza (1921-2002) to be perhaps even more fascinating and endearing than that of the author. Additional thoughts: (1) Power and privilege must be wonderful things. (2) Excellence and aspirationalism can get you far--if you're connected or networked enough to get your foot in the door. (3) Some of the content cries out for additional media: images of the art being described, family trees, lists of the websites mentioned in the penultimate chapter, and other such visuals. Is the hard-copy edition adorned with photographs? If so, an accompanying website for the audio version would make the product a better value. To make it more educational for me, I'd appreciate a list of the artists whose works are at the ostensible center of the narrative--particularly the ultra-contemporary artists, many of whose names were new to me (and, thus, I'm not sure I could even spell, particularly given some of the British pronunciations [of, for example, van Gogh]).

I rather liked the author's philosophizing in places; it made me realize, ultimately, that the name-dropping is part of the aura of the persona qua celebrity. De Pury seems to know what he's doing in trying to impress those who'd be impressed by the way he peers into the networks of those with whom he's networked. The message, though, reinforces the idea that only once you're a "somebody" will anybody who is anybody care about you. Talent alone is not enough to break into that echelon, no matter what we'd like to think. Alas.