An artist attempts to monetize his work in Moore’s debut novel.
When Glenn Reynolds, an accountant, agrees to serve as an agent for his artist friend, Richard Phillips, he does so mostly to be supportive; up to this point, the eccentric and largely unknown Richard has been in no danger of selling anything. “But if it were to happen,” narrates Glenn, “he has the idea that this arrangement would avoid the disagreeable situation of customers approaching him to debate price….Richard thought talking about money was distasteful.” Then an interior decorator wants to buy one of Richard’s pieces—a drawing from his Crumpled Paper series, depicting crumpled-up balls of paper—for $1,000. Though it’s only one of a set, the strange watermark on this particular drawing makes it an object of fascination: The buyer quickly resells it to a friend of hers for twice the price. Then it resells again, and again, increasing in value each time. Meanwhile, Richard—with Glenn’s encouragement—attempts to take on increasingly ambitious projects in the hope of finally breaking through. In the great irony of art, however, Richard’s fortunes seem to plummet even as the value of his work—or one piece of it, at least—continues to skyrocket. Moore’s prose, often filtered through the wry understatements of Glenn, captures both the conceptual headiness and ridiculousness of the art world. Here Glenn tries to hustle Richard into putting the last touches on his work before a show: “He argued that adjusting the paper sculpture could theoretically take a lifetime to finish because the shape was constantly changing…I argued that while that may be true, he did not have a lifetime to finish it, and even if he did, his audience would lose interest in waiting.” The book unfolds at a leisurely pace, pausing frequently for conversations about the history of art or what food Glenn and Richard will order during their weekly lunch. More entertaining is the journey Richard’s drawing takes from collector to collector.
A thoughtful, comic look at the art-making process.