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Helping the six-hour narrative flow along and flow it does, effortlessly weaving in a history of book collecting (and book thieving) with all the gumshoe action is narrator Judith Brackley’s smooth delivery. Measured, steady, patient, her voice contains the quiet rhythms of an NPR reporter or a Sunday school teacher. But this isn’t to say Brackley’s interpretation doesn’t veer toward buoyant effervescence from time to time. Indeed, describing Gilkey’s bold crime sprees elicits an especially enthusiastic cadence you can almost imagine the author’s jaw dropping when she heard the amazing anecdotes for the first time.
Though Bartlett makes a noble attempt to delve into the psychology of her characters, she doesn’t make many inroads, instead just circling around the same question over and over again namely, just what it is about books, of all things, that seem to turn normal people mad. The most delicious moments, in fact, may come when Bartlett inserts herself into the story; as Gilkey begins confiding more and more about his crimes, the objective journalist becomes entangled in the narrative, wondering what actions, if any, she should take. As read by Brackley, these confessional moments are when the book really comes alive, drawing you in as if it’s Bartlett herself speaking right into your ear. Jaime Buerger
With a mixture of suspense, insight, and humor, she not only reveals exactly how Gilkey pulled off his dirtiest crimes and how Sanders ultimately caught him, but also explores the romance of books, the lure to collect them, and the temptation to steal them. Immersing the listener in a rich, wide world of literary obsession, Bartlett looks at the history of book passion, collection, and theft through the ages, to examine the craving that makes some people willing to stop at nothing to possess the books they love.
Customer ReviewsMost Helpful
By Amazon Customer on 09-24-10
A good story ruined by a narcissistic author
Okay, narcissism is too strong, but you get the idea. Here is a story of a con man, and of the rare book field at large. It's a captivating, and somewhat scary, story of theft and its results. Unfortunately, it comes off disjoint, primarily because of the author herself. The story becomes a blur of the story of the con man, the story of the con man's targets, and the author's own impressions on books and her emotions towards them. Frankly, her autobiographical segments just are not as good as her reporting. Likewise, her opinions are sometimes jarring, not necessarily wrong but very idiosyncratic and unsupported, and such a distraction to the rest of the material. Frankly, some of her opinions on what book collections means seem incredibly strange to me. This would be much more interesting as a shorter article, one much more on target.
8 of 8 people found this review helpful
By Joshua Kim on 06-10-12
Wikipedia defines "bibliomania" as "an obsessive–compulsive disorder involving the collecting or hoarding of books to the point where social relations or health are damaged." Having "bibliomania" is probably bad, but being a "bibliophile" (someone who "who loves to read, admire and collect books, often amassing a large and specialized collection"), is more admirable.
Do we have a word the digital book (audio and e-book) enthusiasts among us? Maybe "digi-bibliophile" or "e-bibliophile"? Can I trademark these terms? (A quick google search, done after thinking of the name, shows that I did not get to this first - oh well).
The Man Who Loved Books Too Much is about bibliomaniacs, bibliophiles, and all the people in between. Bartlett structures her story around a John Gilkey, a mentally unbalanced thief who managed to steal hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of rare books via credit card fraud in the 1990s. Gilkey's crimes give us a window into the rarified world of rare book dealing and collecting.
I had no idea that there exists an "Antiquarian Booksellers' Association of America" (ABAA), or that antiquarian book shows were such a big deal. It came as a surprise to me that rare book collectors collect mostly not to read their acquisitions, that the value of the book is less in its content but in its scarcity and historical significance. The catchphrase in rare book circles is to "never judge a book by its contents". Only first edition, first run books - in mint condition with their dust jackets intact - are valuable.
Some people think that the ascension of e-books will only increase the value of paper books that are beautifully constructed and have historical significance. The thinking goes that the rise of e-books will make paper books even more rare, and that we will do the bulk of our reading digitally while cherishing those certain physical books that we have an emotional connection with. Maybe.
The Man Who Loved Books Too Much is a great read for the bibliophiles, e-bibliophiles, and e-bibliomaniacs among us. Highly recommended.
6 of 6 people found this review helpful