What a very odd story. ( )

Hank Shapiro es un artista de la selección, un agente del gobierno que recaba las obras a las que les ha llegado el momento de la jubilación creativa... ya que no hay bastante sitio en el mundo para todo el arte, de modo que las obras que exceden cierta antigüedad deben ser catalogadas, consignadas en los archivos y destruidas, allanando el camino para el arte nuevo. Es una profesión que entraña riesgos, y el salario es pésimo, pero paga las facturas. Después de todo, el arte de este año es mejor que el del año pasado, ¿verdad?

The similarities to Fahrenheit 451 are obvious. The Pickup Artist is set in a near future America in which art in all forms — music, literature, painting, movies — is being purged to alleviate the glut of such things and allow space for new creative endeavors. When a work, author, or artist is placed on the deletion list, all originals and copies of the applicable art forms are collected and destroyed.

The first-person narrator of this story is a pickup artist, a person working for the Bureau of Arts and Information who confiscates (normally with compensation) books, albums, tapes, CDs and the like from those who own them. One day, he collects a vinyl album by Hark Williams. It reminds him of his father, and he becomes obsessed with listening to it, but first he needs to locate a record player. His search for one brings him into contact with two factions of the Alexandrians, both of which have their roots in the movement that brought about the policy of cultural purging but now have diametrically opposed goals.

The first-person narrative is interspaced with short historical bits on how this policy of cultural deletion came about.

The premise almost works as a bit of cultural satire, but it is too absurd to have the impact of a cautionary tale like Fahrenheit 451.There are also elements such as the cloned Indians, talking dog, and mature baby that I assume were supposed to have some symbolic significance but, whatever that was, it eluded me.

The characters are believable enough to evoke some empathy, and the setting is not so bizarre that it prevents suspension of disbelief for the sake of the story. The book is different and interesting, but I can’t recommend it as a particularly enjoyable read.
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This book is a cross between 1984, Fahrenheit 451 and maybe something from Philip K. Dick...but a poor man's version of that offspring. ( )

I enjoyed the premise of the book, that old art and culture needs to be pruned from society, so I kept with it even when I wasn’t sure where the book was going. I couldn’t help but feel the last half of the book was a description of the main characters decent into drug abuse, but I’m not sure that’s an accurate conclusion. Overall, I liked the first half, and didn’t really understand the second half. ( )