Book Review: The Art Thief

 

This narrative true story of the prolific art thief, Stéphane Breitwieser, and his girlfriend and alleged accomplice, Anne-Catherine Kleinklaus, is absolutely fascinating. 

Active between 1995 and 2001, he travelled around Europe and stole at least 239 artworks and other exhibits (from 172 museum), an average of one theft every 15 days. In reality, his haul may have been even higher. None of his thefts involved violence or the threat of violence; most were done without the museum even being aware they had been robbed until considerably later. He really was the master of the small but perfect heist.

Finkel's style in the book strikes the perfect balance between reportage and creative non-fiction, providing insights and descriptions that had me fully engaged throughout. The idea of an art thief who steals not to profit, but because he is obsessively in love with the art itself - not to sell, but to hoard and delight in - is an intriguing one, and I was very intrigued! 

Finkel's descriptions of how the thefts were accomplished was riveting, and I enjoyed each one, as well as the enticing vision of the packrat Aladdin's Cave that Breitwieser and Kleinklaus built themselves in the attic of Breitwieser's mother's house. The art itself comes through luminously in the pages, and Finkel manages to completely convincingly convey the thrall that the art had Breitwieser in. Sometimes he definitely veers into sympathy for his subject, but never neglects to recall attention to the reality that Breitwieser is not only a thief but, despite what he passionately believes about himself, functionally a cultural vandal. His actions deprived others of their equal right to see and delight in the art; his belief that he had a special relationship with the work was dangerously and damagingly arrogant.

At the end, the only weakness I could identify in the book, and it's a minor one, is that I think Finkel brushes too quickly past the question of what lies behind Breitwieser's motivation / drive to steal the art, never seriously engaging with the question. He dismisses "simple" kleptomania, which seems reasonable, but that then suggests a deeper and more complex pathology that is never really interrogated. There are hints and suggestions within the facts of the case that could have stood for further expansion and exploration, but Finkel seems content to let the inner man lie unexposed. Which is a fair narrative choice, but as a reader, I would have liked a bit more on this point.

A really good read though - recommend! 8/10.