This book was mentioned by someone on social media (I can't remember who or where) and my interest was immediately piqued. The book is styled as an auction catalogue from a fictional auctioneers, Strachan & Quinn, and it lists items for sale from the collection of Lenore Doolan and Harold Morris. These are everyday items: clothing, books, letters, postcards etc, basically everything from their life together as a couple. It doesn't sound like much of a read so far, does it? But by providing photographs and listing details for each item, Leanne Shapton tells the story of a relationship from beginning to end.

The items themselves are sometimes fascinating, sometimes everyday, sometimes nothing special, but as a whole they provide a clear view of a relationship that worked for a time but ultimately was doomed to fail. I think it's a very clever way to document a love story. It is fictional but I feel like Lenore and Harold are real people, are in fact a food writer and photographer.

This book is unique and original and must have taken ages to construct. I dipped in and out of it and so read it over a few days. It lacks some of the depth I really want in a book but it's certainly memorable for its innovative concept. ( )

Blink and it's done. Remarkable example of storytelling that is way outside the normal boundaries for fiction. Given the form, the story itself couldn't be more mundane. Given that the whole point of the exercise should be "show, don't tell", there was a little too much "tell" with whole emails reproduced and the couple's prolific marginalia.

Still, an exciting way to tell the tale that succeeds more than it doesn't ( )

This book was a disappointment. A story told through an auction catalogue sounded promising but in the event the conceit of the catalogue wasn't fully exploited. Indeed, items like these aren't usually auctioned except, very occasionally, in lots and the story itself was a bog-standard one.

The tale would far better have been told in a short story, given that Shapton relies upon awkward contrivances like letters found in books, notes scribbled on theatre programmes, and photos of the couple.It's through these and not through the belongings themselves that what story there is is told. Once or twice Shapton begins to make good use of her framework: a catalogue description notes that the backgammon board is charred, but rather than hinting why the game is damaged she immediately moves from this to yet another note from Morris to Doolan, this one telling us how it was burned. A clever writer would have depicted Morris's travels, Doolan's hot temper, and the pair's tiffs and reconciliations through the lots themselves. The book does have one glint of humor: a photo of salt and pepper shakers in the form of rather seal-headed dachshunds: One shudders with glee..

(A few months after reading Important Artifacts I read a story of a successful though not quite high-flying businessman whose downfall leads to a violent death. It wasn't subtle--but neither is Shapton's story--and it was told in a sequence of sixteen till receipts shown without comment. So this sort of thing can be done and it's too bad that Shapton hadn't the wit try to do it.)

What at first glance looks like an auction catalog of bits and pieces of a person's life in essence tracks an intimate relationship from beginning to end over the course of several years. A clever and striking format that has a way of feeling very poignant and very familiar. Unforgettable. SRH ( )

What at first glance looks like an auction catalog of bits and pieces of a person's life in essence tracks an intimate relationship from beginning to end over the course of several years. A clever and striking format that has a way of feeling very poignant and very familiar. Unforgettable. ( )

The title is very nearly as long as the book; at 129 pages the volume barely makes it to book length. It’s constructed uniquely: it’s an auction catalog for the possessions of a couple, Lenore and Harold. She’s in her 20s, he’s in his 30s. They are hipsters who dress in vintage clothing and use precious vintage accessories. He’s a photographer, she’s a food columnist. We find that he considers his work art and very important and serious, while he considers her writing silly and unimportant. Through the book we see the couple get together, live together for a while, and fall apart. The author does this through not just their objects but through notes; him to her, her to him, her to her sister. Very short, spare notes, but still, they manage to convey the story. You wouldn’t think you could connect to a character with that few words, but I did find myself feeling a little sorry for Lenore.

It’s kind of a fun book to go through. This length is probably all that the format could sustain; it’s not a format for nuance and depth. I enjoyed it, but I’m glad I didn’t buy it but read the library copy. ( )

This is the first book that I've bought new in a very long time--I was intrigued by the concept of telling a story through items in an auction catalog instead of through a more standard narrative.

Overall, I thought the conceit worked pretty well, though in order to succeed, the characters had to have some strange habits, like writing relevant song lyrics on the flyleaves of books, leaving unfinished letters tucked into books, and just sending and receiving a lot of handwritten letters in general.

I was struck by how well the characters were defined by the brands, foods, and other objects that they chose. To me, this was the best, most interesting revelation of the book.

I was expecting the book to be funnier and more ridiculous, but it took its subjects very seriously. I wanted the overall tone to be more like page 120, with the "irreparable damage...as if struck by a hammer" and the "I did not handle that at all well..."

And, of course, being me, I can't accept the fact that Wuthering Heights is listed as being written by Charlotte Brontë. How did that get by the editor? ( )

I love the idea of this book, the story of a couples' relationship told through the format of an auction catalog. And Leanne Shapton carries out the project well, with a wide range of "lots" (from gifts to clothes to books to shopping lists, notes, &c.) and just enough contextual info to keep things moving and gradually fill in the narrative, which is rather a sad one overall.

Of course there's something fairly odd about the pair's belongings being sold at auction like this - why would folks sell off their t-shirts and bras and books and suits and things several years after their breakup? There's no clear reason offered for this, and no context given for why an auction house would even sell such things (do they specialize in such sales?). A bit of this, just for the skeptical reader like me, would have gone a long way. ( )

"I enjoyed this primarily a tongue-in-cheek poking of fun at the auction world not as a story about a relationship."
read more: http://likeiamfeasting.blogspot.com/2013/01/important-artifacts-and-leanne-shapt... ( )

Brilliantly original and beautifully poignant. The format gave a surprisingly intimate portrayal of relationship. Such a clever concept and so brilliantly executed. ( )

The story of a relationship told in objects, as an auction catalog. I think we could all write a book like this: the ticket stubs, the books we gave each other in the first blush of love, the dumb love notes and couple jokes, the things we bought to furnish our apartment together. After the break up those things are still around - a lot of times that's all's left - and sometimes it feels like they're sitting there taunting us with what's lost.

I liked this, but didn't find it brilliant. Although we understand why they break up, the story's slanted toward the girlfriend's point of view - the things she isn't getting from him, the things she gives up. I was curious about how it was for him and we don't get to see that except for a few notes from friends reminding him that it's his pattern to miss is exes when he's with a new girlfriend. The objects themselves, though are perfect. Notes scrawled on theater programs, silly things from tag sales, vintage clothes. ( )

The concept of this novel (photo essay? manifest? collage?) is to present the auction catalog of the property of defunct couple Lenore Doolan and Harold Morris as it relates to their relationship. Through the stark, material lot descriptions of the detritus of coupledom, the author presents the falling in and out of love in a plausible, understated manner. We see numbers exchanged on napkins, polaroids, emails, letters, gifts, menus, and agendas from the couple's 4-year courtship laid out in chronological order.

Some lots speak for themselves - letters exchanged by the couple, notes sent to friends, but the subtle nuances, the underlying evidence examines the psychology of a relationship. What the couple tells one another is contrasted and contradicted by letters sent (and, more poignantly, unsent) to friends, appointments made on the sly, possible betrayals (for example, Lenore makes a date with an ex-boyfriend, and later in the catalog we see Harold carrying an umbrella we are told belongs to the ex-boyfriend, left in Lenore's apartment - when was it left? did she cheat? we don't know). In notes to themselves, private musings, Harold and Lenore are ambivalent, doubt, make lists of pros and cons, visit therapists. But all the while, for a couple of years anyway, they present a loving, happy face to one another. Only later does the relationship collapse on itself, weighed down by the crushing force of incompatibility too long ignored. Harold reminiscences about ex-girlfriends, travels too frequently, gives Lenore gifts of things that belonged to other women in his life, resents Lenore's burgeoning career as a columnist. Lenore has a short temper, is much younger than Harold, cannot decide what she wants out of life, tries to daub the cracks in their love life with thoughtful gifts and food. Like most real world relationships, it ends not with a bang, but a whimper: trips ending in tears and indecision, a pregnancy scare, indifference, and finally a break that turns into a break-up.

One of the strengths of the novel is that the author has created a couple that puts on such a convincing show of functionality and appeal. If you knew them, you'd admire them. They seem so together and fun - they travel, fill their apartment with bizarre kitsch, dress in beautiful vintage clothing, photograph well, and in all respects put on the mask of perfection you so often see in couples with whom you're acquainted and wish you could be like. Perhaps the message is that underneath the trappings, the stuff, the facade, no relationship is ever what it seems.

All that said, I give this novel 3 stars, as it failed to arouse any strong feelings in me either way. Like a lengthy relationship that has long since reached its natural end, this book evokes neither love nor hate, just the resigned acceptance that it was what it was. ( )

This book deserves to win prizes for its concept which is totally unlike anything I’ve ever seen (or read) before. It’s the story of a relationship from start to finish, but presented in the form of an auction catalogue of the couple’s ‘stuff’ – so original, so clever, but does it work?

Lenore is a food writer for a New York newspaper, Harold is a photographer. They meet at a Halloween party, fall in and ultimately, out of love. They’re the sort of couple who are always taking photos of themselves, individually or setting the timer and posing. They write notes too – from post-it reminders on the fridge, to endearments tucked into things, to letters expressing love, frustration, anger …

Their life together is represented by 325 lots, comprising many of their photos, notes, and other ephemera (I love that word!), as well as books, knick-knacks and household items. Most are illustrated; the accompanying text gives the physical details of the lots including condition reports plus an estimate – just like in a real auction catalogue, there is no further elaboration.

It was fascinating to see what was going to come up next, but I found this book so frustrating. I mean, who (except the owner’s mother), would ever consider bidding for a lot of three oven gloves, two of which were well worn, estimate $20-$45, unless they were from the top celebrity chef du jour? This couple may have been well-known within their professional circles, but outside that, who would go to an auction of their cast-offs? It was this juxtaposition of fantasy versus reality that partially put me off. It also smacks of doing one’s dirty washing in public – we can celebrate the couple’s initial euphoria of being in love with them without being too voyeuristic, but by the time their relationship started to fade, my interest did rather too as I didn’t want to intrude. ( )

Leanne Shapton's book, the full title of which I've written once and will not do so again, has a wonderful concept. It's a catalogue of lots for an auction held on Saturday the 14th of February, 2009 (there's a clue) at a New York auction house. Each of the items on sale, few of which would have any real value at auction, represents a different stage in the relationship between two people, 26 year-old cookery columnist Lenore Doolan and 39 year-old travelling photographer Harold Morris.

It begins with photographs and a party invitation and ends with collections of dried flowers. Make of that symbolism what you will. In between you'll find everything from mixtapes to diary pages, braziers to pyjamas, china dogs to salt shakers, books, ties, umbrellas, cocktail mixers, cake stands, menus, travel clocks and post-it notes... all meticulously documented with lot numbers, images, dimensions and reserve prices. It's the ephemera on which we build our lives, yet it tells an all too recognisable story of the rise and fall of a love affair, finding heartbreaking detail in the minutiae. There are times when that level of detail bogs us down - maybe not every one of these lots is entirely necessary - but after finishing this book I felt I knew these characters inside and out... though some details of their relationship are left to the reader's imagination / speculation. ( )

Not all mysteries have to revolve around crimes and murders. Sometimes it’s a simple matter of piecing together a series of clues until you arrive at a solution. Important Artifacts and Personal Property from the Collection of Lenore Doolan and Harold Morris, Including Books, Street Fashion, and Jewelry by Leanne Shapton is a 2009 auction catalog put out by the fictional Strachan & Quinn Auctioneers. It contains the effects of Lenore Doolan and Harold Morris, a New York City couple, who were together from 2002-2006. These objects – mementos, scraps of paper and collected junk – form the narrative of the rise and fall of their relationship. The book is both brilliantly conceived and executed.

Shapton tells her story through scribbles on paper napkins, letters, notes stuck in books, photographs and a variety of used objects. Everything is presented roughly in chronological order, but the reader comes to understand events only through their own inferences into and interpretations of the items being sold in the multiple lots. Nothing is spelled out. Despite that, a surprisingly clear story quickly takes shape. It’s a shame that this book isn’t more mainstream, because I couldn’t imagine a better book club selection to provoke discussion.

What is so striking about Important Artifacts and Personal Property is how it reeks of authenticity. New York apartment dwellers treat their homes a bit like gypsy caravans and the assortment of second-hand objects represented in the catalog fit perfectly into that lifestyle.
Slightly seedy thrift shop dresses, used VHS tapes of Annie Hall, a taxidermy squirrel and a collection of salt shakers – this mismatch of things wouldn’t be out-of-place in an East Village apartment. (I had one friend who kept a collection of candy colored Buddha’s still in their bubble gum machine plastic bubbles on a shelf with a human skull from drawing class and much- loved Joni Mitchell CD’s). The result is that the reader believes… That these things once belonged to Lenore and Harold and that it is possible to bid on what amounts to debris left in the wake of a relationship.

Leanne Shapton has succeeded on two fronts: she has not only convinced us of the existence of two people who may never have existed by providing visual proof, but she has also created a diorama of a specific way of life in a specific time within a specific city. Important Artifacts and Personal Property is a demonstration of how objects can define us not only as individuals, but tell the broader story of how we lived our lives.

To see more of this review, please visit www.booksexy.wordpress.com ( )

Re-reading this I was struck by the richness of the story that is told in the spaces between the photographs of items from once entwined lives and the sparse objective auctionerr's lot descriptions. The technique is stretched my the electronic age (will we ever auction printouts of emails?) and obliges the couple to live in an anachronistic world of letters, postcards and polaroids that might have worked in the 1980s but is not quite in touch with the 2000s. This is such a tiny gripe about a slice of mastery. ( )

The blurbs on the back cover from Amy Sedaris and Dave Eggers were encouraging. Sedaris – whom I love – admits jealousy over the execution of this book. It’s the same thing I feel when I wish I’d done something first. Well, rage and self-loathing for me, but I knew what she meant.

Reading through the fictional auction catalog puts me in mind of my flea-market days. I always flipped through the photos, many still in albums, and wondered who these folks were and what the stories were behind the images. Leanne Shapton has put all of one couple’s pictures (as well as their gifts, clothing, household items and the like) in order and constructed a story through her well-written lot descriptions.

She doesn’t flesh out the story and the items themselves have only a few, very brief details of the relationship. However, the lots are placed in chronological order and notes in some descriptions reference other lots. Photos of people playing Doolan and Morris, and people playing their friends and families illustrate how and where the items were used. The items themselves are well-chosen. The initial lots are the thoughtfully chosen gifts and romantic notes that mark the start of a romance. The items become mundane as the relationship unfolds into its rut.

This graphic novel was interesting in the same way a museum exhibit is interesting to me. I was able to piece together the lifestyle of a 21st century couple living in Manhattan, who work as a photographer and a writer. The narrative is dispassionate and as objective as a catalog gets. I do not know people like this couple and do not live like them. But I loved reading about them. I loved examining their stuff. I caught myself starting to take sides as disagreements came up and recognized my own relationships in theirs. I coveted their knick knacks and criticized their choices in music. It’s well worth reading as a curious approach to a novel. ( )

It's an interesting concept, learning about a relationship through the owners' items. Primary observations about this book:1. This couple writes more letters than anyone I've ever met. 2. There isn't much depth here. At least delve into the actual split, if you're headed that way. Lots of buildup with no payoff. 3. So....? It reminded me of watching the movie "The Break-Up". Yeah, that's pretty much what it's like to break up. Good luck with that.This couple seemed so pretentious too. They don't talk like normal couples. They use indie song lyrics to explain their feelings (the only one of which I recognized was a Paul Simon song). She writes a column about cakes, which is ridiculous in itself and completely inconsistent with her spending habits. (Like Carrie Bradshaw, who bought Manolo Blahniks weekly with her one-column-per-week paycheck. Uh-huh.) I did wonder for a moment what my belongings would say about my relationships. I hardly ever keep anything sentimental, so probably I would appear to be a spinster without friends or relations. So worth it to avoid a bunch of dusty clutter. ( )

Wonderfully imaginative and original story of a relationship break-up by means of an auction catalogue. ( )

Intriguing tale of a love affair told through the artifacts left from the affair--photos, emails, clothes, jewelry, notes, books, gifts, even salt shakers. Makes the reader get involved with the couple and their life, reminding us of our own leftovers in our love lives. And how do you put a value on those objects, and on love itself? ( )

Interesting format, for sure; I liked the experimental aspect of it. ( )

I was instantly in love with the concept behind this. And it was more more complex than her earlier book, which I also really enjoyed. Overall, really well executed. They seemed like the sort of people who really would end up together, and really wouldn't work out. (I did keep wondering whether their incompatibility would have been so obvious if we weren't told at the very beginning that it failed.) She did clearly have a mysterious supplemental income, or a nasty credit card habit, but that's so common these days in any medium -- young characters have to be living in NYC no matter what. Giving him a job with lots of travel was a great vehicle for their interactions. And I loved the conversations on playbills. The unusual (?) habit of regularly leaving notes in books seemed a stretch, however. The truly brilliant entry was the restaurant tab towards the end, with the entrees crossed out. It said so much in so few words. ( )

NYT food writer's relationship. 1st ed. ( )