Does Not Deliver
Art is about beautiful objects, pairing, sculpture, music, and sometimes about people. The book does not deliver.
This is a story about Lacey Yeager, a newcomer to the art scene in New York City and what she will do to advance herself. It turns out that she will do just about anything, as will most of the characters in the story. Reading this book was like watching a train wreck. You know you should look away and say a prayer for the victims, but you just can't take your eyes away. There is no climax to the story, no good over evil, no "gotcha" moments where the bad guys get caught, there just a depressing tale of unfettered greed and ambition. Even the moments where Martin describes great art are tainted by the characters always putting a dollar sign in the piece in question.
The story is all about Lacey and noting else. Martin has created a character without depth, there are no complexities, no layers, no redeeming graces in her. In other words, there is no reason to like her or even to dislike her. She is what she is, vain, shallow and self serving. She is someone who if I meet her in real life, I would shrug off. Nothing there to be befriend.
The other main characters in the book are written in the same vein, and again there is no reason to like any of them. The book showcases a world of privilege and manipulation, both of people and money. Success is measured in how much money you have, how "smartly " you go about acquiring it. Money does not buy class and Martin demonstrates this very well. Relationships are not important and can be discarded as easily as trash, at least in this world view. Every person that comes into her life is judged for friendship or gain, in how she can use or abuse them. When it comes to use and abuse, Lacey is a master. She never seems to realize that those she uses are doing the same to her. Talley uses her to sell pictures, Patrice uses her as an object of gratification that can be exploited. Her two girlfriends in the story only interact minimally with her. Boyfriends are for drugs, sex and power. None of them seem to like her. The crowd that she so desperately wants to join, want nothing to do with her socially. The ones that have potential for her, she mocks and loses. In the end, she winds up the same way she lived her life in New York, alone.
Money and greed are universal themes, so are love and hate. Martin dwells exclusively on money and greed, and that, in my opinion makes this a inferior book. I expected more humanity in this novel, and Martin did not deliver.
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