This is an interesting book on book collecting and stealing rare books. The thief of the story doesn't really "love books too much." Instead, he has a bizarre sense of entitlement and considers books a way to show that he belongs in the upper class society that he envies. Bartlett has done a nice job in analyzing her thief, and while she gives some glimpses into rare book collecting, I wish she would have given more of a sense of contemporary collectors and what drives them. The other part of the book that troubled me was how much she inserts herself into the narrative. The book takes on an uneasy balance between memoir and reporting, between a book like "A Gentle Madness" and "The Professor and the Madman." Given the subject and her access to living sources, I think the book would have been stronger if she had stayed more in the mode of a reporter. Still, it's a quick and enjoyable read, and fans of this brand of non-fiction should enjoy it. ( )

A fascinating and disturbing book. The author follows John Gilkey through the labyrinth of his twisted reasoning, listening while he justifies in his own mind his relentless thieving of rare and precious books. The author delves into what sparks a normal collector's passion, and the driving sense of entitlement that sparks Gilkey's thefts.

She does acknowledge the difference between the dedicated, even obsessive love of most collectors and the warped logic of Gilkey's thought processes - but it seems sometimes that she blurs the line. So, too, she occasionally blurs the line between observing Gilkey and contributing to his ego trips. She even accompanied him as he strolls around a rare book store showing her how he cases the security, and how he identifies the prime book selections. It made me a bit uncomfortable.

But the overall impression I take from this book concerns the widespread brotherhood/sisterhood of book lovers to which I belong. (English really needs more gender-neutral nouns) Bartlett writes movingly of the deep almost visceral anger of one of the store owners that Gilkey ripped off - and the deep hurt that the loss of a rare book causes another. A really good book for bibliophiles. Oh, and by the way, Gilkey is on the loose again. ( )

http://www.book-blog.com/2009/11/bart... ( )

The world of antique and collectible books makes for an engrossing backdrop that upstages the core story of a book detective and his nemesis, a man who uses stolen credit cards to purchase rare books. This titled book thief never becomes enigmatic despite the author’s best efforts and repeated assurances. It is clear how passionate he is, but his rationales and remorselessness are almost unbearable. But the glimpses of bibliomania are sure to amuse avid readers. If books are your thing, The Man Who Loved Books Too Much is nothing short of a delight to devour. ( )

Rare indeed is the book that can keep my attention for 6 straight hours while sitting in a hospital room. The Man Who loved Books Too Much captured me so fully that I didn't even notice the horribly uncomfortable chair I sit in every Saturday. There was much I could relate to in both Mr Gilkey and Mr Sanders. Having grown up in homes that had libraries becoming an adult moving into my own place hich obviously did not have one to begin with I can understand Gilkey's deep craving to acquire them, to begin to define himself. Having had more than a few of mine disappear over the years or simply never be returned I cheer for Mr Sanders' go get 'em attitude when it coes to catching theives. The questions raised by this book about the ethical, legal/illegal, or otherwise building of a library were fascinating.

What I most enjoyed though was watching the author slowly grow to love books in a whole new way. Often those parts of the books left me breathless and happily remembering my own moments like that with particular books. All in all a very good read. ( )