In all likelihood, you understand going in that this is a book by a journalist. You know what I mean. There is nothing wrong with that, sometimes you can just... tell. But that's not to say it's not a fine piece of work.

Some of the subject matter I found wholly entertaining: historical tidbits and first hand tales about books, libraries, bibliophiles, bibliomaniacs, rare books, book fairs, and book dealers especially. In fact, I think it's a shame that the real focus of the book wasn't the dealers, and Sanders especially.

Somewhat interesting were the stories of the thefts, the moments that made you wonder just how someone could have the gall to blithely steal from honest, dedicated, passionate people.

The part I didn't care for was the pursuit of "the story" of what made the thief steal, what made him tick. I mean, the guy is an outright creep and it bothered me that so much time was given to analysis of his motives, the particulars of his misanthropic, narcissistic, sad-sack personality, and especially his so-called ambitions and his feeble, faux-erudite posturing. I mean, I already feel bad that I've spent this much time typing about someone I refuse to even name. Alas, there would be no book without him.

All told, it's a quick read and worth the time. I just wish there were fewer such people getting as much airtime.