AI Reviews my unfinished novel
NotebookLM podcast of Lessons Learned through Forgery
I used NotebookLM to generate a podcast review of my novel Lessons Learned through Forgery.
Actually, I’ve never completed this novel. But I’m getting back into it. I have a first draft, second draft, third draft. I’ve lost count. I need to finish the damn thing. I started it in 2005, not long after I moved to Buenos Aires, where I lived for 8 years and where I might live again. Buenos Aires became my adopted home town. I’ve written over 270 pages. This draft has just over 80,000 words. It needs expanding. It needs finishing touches. I’ve put that off so long. But listening to this podcast review of my uncompleted novel is energizing.
I need to stress that I’ve written every word of this novel by hand and typed every word. Writing fiction is a sheer pleasure. As much as I value artificial intelligence, I have not and will not use AI to write a single sentence of this novel. I will use AI as a tool to help me think about the novel. I have used AI as a reader of the novel to help me think through the story. I have a video on that on my channel.
A brief overview of the novel before listening to the podcast:
The novel follows the interconnected lives of several characters in Buenos Aires. The narrative focuses on the art world, specifically the forgery of paintings, and explores themes of desire, deception, and the pursuit of beauty. Daniel, a talented artist, becomes entangled with Mirtha, a ruthless art dealer, and Federico, an enigmatic teacher, both of whom manipulate people for their own gain. Andrea, an art conservator at a local museum, is caught in the middle of their schemes and struggles with her own moral compass as she witnesses the consequences of their actions. The story unfolds as these characters navigate the complexities of love, betrayal, and the pursuit of personal ambition in the captivating and chaotic setting of Buenos Aires.
The podcast does a good job of conveying the essence of the story. Caution: there are spoilers in the podcast, though they don’t give everything away. But they do reveal a lot. Indeed, that’s why I never read book reviews before reading a novel. The reviews always give away too much.
The images in this video are all generated in Midjourney. I’ve taken hundreds of photographs of Buenos Aires, which I have posted online over the years. I’m sure my own photos were used to train Midjourney. I’m okay with that.
Here’s the podcast. There are two speakers. You can listen to the podcast on my YouTube channel.
Welcome back everyone. Ready for another deep dive? This time we're going to explore the world of art forgery.
Oh yeah. Definitely not your typical art heist story.
Nope, not at all. It's a, it's a novel called Lessons Learned Through Forgery. And it takes place in Buenos Aires, which has this whole other layer.
So setting is so important. So, uh, are you familiar with the book?
Oh yeah, absolutely. We both read it before we got together today. I was immediately drawn to the characters, especially Daniel. He's this queerly talented artist. I think a lot of us can relate to that struggle of, you know, trying to make a living from your art.
Definitely. And Mirtha, the gallery owner, she's a force of nature. I mean, she's charming and sophisticated, but there's also this darkness to her.
Yeah. She's definitely got a secret or two. And then there's Andrea, the art historian. She's trying to advocate this world where the lines between art and commerce are constantly blurred.
Right. And she's pulled in so many different directions. By Daniel, by Mirtha, and then there's this whole other character.
Oh, Federico. He's the mysterious artist who becomes Andrea's mentor.
He's, uh, he's definitely got his own agenda. But one thing that struck me about the novel is how it uses forgery as a metaphor for so much more than just, you know, copying a painting.
Exactly. It makes you question what authenticity even means, not just in art, but in life in general.
It's like, Daniel, he's so good at what he does. He can basically reproduce any masterpiece, but he's also struggling to survive, to make ends meet. So when Mirtha presents him with this opportunity, he's tempted.
I mean, who wouldn't be
right? And she's very persuasive. She knows exactly how to manipulate him, how to appeal to his ambition and his desperation. And the way she targets lesser known works for the forgery market.
It's smart, less risk of getting caught.
Exactly. But the novel doesn't shy away from the moral implications.
Now it definitely makes you think about the ethical dilemmas involved. Like where does ambition cross the line into deceit?
It's a question we see Andrea wrestling with throughout the book. She's drawn to both Daniel and Federico, but she also sees the damage they're causing. She's constantly questioning her own moral compass.
Her relationship with Mirtha is particularly interesting. Andrea used to work at the gallery, but she left because she felt like the museum world was more pure. But when they meet for lunch, you could feel the tension between them.
Especially when Mirtha starts asking about the provenance of a particular painting.
It's like a power play. And it reveals a lot about both of their characters. Like Mirtha, she's still trying to control Andrea, even though Andrea supposedly moved on.
And Andrea, she's trying to hold on to her principles, but it's hard when she's constantly surrounded by these morally ambiguous characters.
And then there's the setting of Buenos Aires. It's almost like another character in the story.
Oh, absolutely. The descriptions of the bustling art scene, the hidden workshops, the evocative streets, it all adds to the atmosphere.
And there are all these little details that become symbolic as you read, like that novias sign near Federico's building. At first it seems random, but as you get to know his character.
His past relationships, his almost predatory nature.
It takes on this whole other meaning. It's like a symbol of the fleeting, almost transactional nature of love and desire in this world.
The way the novel is structured also adds to the suspense. We keep getting these glimpses into the characters past their motivations, like Daniel's experiment living on the streets or Andrea's childhood memories in the botanical garden.
Right. It's like breadcrumbs leading you deeper into their psyches, making you question everything you thought you knew about them. And I think that's what keeps you hooked. You're trying to piece together these lessons learned alongside the characters. But the novel doesn't give you easy answers. It throws you curveballs and leaves you grappling with those questions long after you finish reading.
It makes you think about the choices we make and the consequences that follow and how sometimes the most important lessons are the ones we learn through our mistakes. It's like the novel throws this huge curveball, right? I mean, up until this point, the stakes are high, but Mirtha's death, it just changes everything.
Oh, yeah. Like you think you know where the story is going and then bam, it just takes this dark turn. And for Daniel, who's already kind of teetering on the edge,
it pushes him over. He goes into this complete downward spiral.
He's drowning in guilt, isn't he? Not just for the forgeries, but for everything. The choices he's made, the people he's heard.
And then he does something really surprising. He confesses to his sister that he killed Mirtha.
Even though we know he didn't.
It's like, why would he do that? It's such a fascinating psychological moment. He's carrying so much guilt, so much self-loathing. It's almost as if he wants to be punished, even if it's for something he didn't do.
Like he needs to take responsibility for the whole mess, the whole tangled web of lies and deceit.
Exactly. And in the midst of all this turmoil, he finds himself drawn back to the archives.
Which is so interesting, right? Because it's like the opposite of the world he's been living in, this world of forgery and secrecy.
The archives represent order, history, a sense of permanence.
And it's where he has this incredible conversation with Señora Cianbiano, the archivist.
She's amazing. So wise and insightful.
She tells him, you don't have to be born in a place to be of that place, which I mean, that just hit me hard.
It's such a profound statement. It's like she's challenging his whole idea of belonging, of identity. And it's a theme that runs throughout the novel, this idea of where we belong, who we are.
Right. And for Daniel, who's been so lost and adrift, it's like a light bulb moment. He starts to see the value in the ordinary, in the lives of people who might not have fame or fortune, but who have stories worth telling.
It ties back to the novel's title, Lessons Learned Through Forgery, because it's not just about art, it's about life, about finding meaning in the unexpected.
It's about those everyday moments, those small connections that make us human.
And that leads him to uncover the truth about the Minkowski painting, the one that Andreas deals.
Oh, yeah, I was wondering when we were going to get to that.
It's all connected. Daniel stumbles upon the story of Minkowski, this Jewish artist who escaped the pogroms in Europe and found refuge in Buenos Aires. But his story has been largely forgotten, his work overshadowed.
It's like a microcosm of the themes we've been talking about, authenticity, forgotten history, the way value is a sign.
Exactly. And Daniel feels this incredible connection to Minkowski, almost like a responsibility to honor his legacy, to bring his story to light.
He wants to make things right, to use his talent for something good.
And he realizes that art can be a powerful tool for remembrance, for keeping those lost stories alive. It's not just about creating beautiful objects, it's about connecting with something bigger than yourself.
So he decides to recreate the Minkowski painting, not as a forgery this time, but as a tribute.
It's a powerful moment. He talks to Nudlebaum, a Holocaust survivor, and he says, "Forgetting is a form of death. Remembering is a form of life." That idea really hits home for Daniel.
It gives him a purpose.
And he makes this incredibly bold decision. He incorporates the recreated Minkowski into a mural he's creating on the wall of the museum.
Talk about a statement.
It's a challenge to the museum's authority, a way for him to reclaim his artistic identity, to move beyond the shadows of forgery.
The scene where he's painting the mural is just so vivid. You can practically feel the energy, the passion he's pouring into it.
He's not just painting a picture, he's telling a story.
He's making a statement about art, about history, about the power of memory.
And it all culminates in this incredibly intense moment. Daniel, Andrea, Ramiro, they're all at the museum for the unveiling of the mural.
It's a reckoning, a confrontation with the past.
And for Andrea, it's a moment of profound realization. She's been through so much. She's questioned everything. And seeing the mural, especially the recreated Minkowski, it's like it gives her a sense of peace, a sense of close love.
She even refers to it as the Minkowski or what it was.
Right. Like she's finally letting go of those rigid definitions of authenticity.
Embracing more fluid understanding of art and its meaning.
And then Daniel adds this final touch to the mural, an image of a couple arriving at Constitution Station, their lives stripped bare.
It's such a powerful image. Yeah. So full of emotion.
It represents all those countless individuals who have shaped the city but whose stories are often overlooked. It's a tribute to the ordinary, to the everyday heroes.
The ending of the novel is open ended, isn't it?
It is. It leaves you wondering what happens next for these characters, how their choices will continue to shape their lives.
But it's clear that they've all been deeply transformed by their experiences.
They've faced their demons, grappled with the consequences of their actions and come out the other side with a deeper understanding of themselves and the world around them.
Those final lines of the novel are so powerful.
“Mistaking as worthless the dull everyday swirl surrounding us, we forget our prime roles as reluctant witnesses ceaselessly tracing the void after the story vanishes.”
It's a reminder to pay attention, to value the stories around us.
And to recognize our own role in preserving them.
It's like the author wanted to show us all these different facets of the art world. You know, the creative side, the business side, the historical and ethical side. They all come together in this story.
Yeah. And they clash. I mean, it's not exactly a harmonious picture.
Not at all. But it feels real, doesn't it? Like you can see how these different forces are constantly at play.
Right. And then you have a character like Federico, who's almost like a puppet master pulling strings in the background.
He's so hard to pin down. Like one minute he's this brilliant artist and mentor and the next
he's taking advantage of people, manipulating them to get what he wants.
Exactly. And it makes you think about the dark side of mentorship, especially in a field like art, where it's so subjective. So much about personal connections.
It's like a cautionary tale about the potential for abuse of power.
And the way the novel handles his downfall, it's so well done. It's not this big dramatic showdown. It's more like
the slow unraveling.
Yeah. Like he's finally caught in his own web of lies. And that scene where dos Santos, the enforcer for the Brazilian syndicate, confronts him in his apartment.
Oh, man. That was chilling.
It's like the whole atmosphere changes. You suddenly realize the danger that lurks beneath the surface of this world.
It's a reminder that actions have consequences.
And sometimes those consequences can be brutal.
But amidst all that darkness, there's this glimmer of hope in Daniel's journey. He's made some terrible mistakes, but you can see that he genuinely wants to redeem himself.
Yeah, he's not just trying to escape punishment. He's actually trying to make amends.
And his decision to recreate the Minkowski painting, to incorporate it into his mural. It's such a powerful statement. It's not just about honoring a forgotten artist. It's about
confronting the wrongs he's committed.
Exactly. And it's about reclaiming his art, using it for something good, something meaningful.
It's also a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there's always the possibility for redemption.
And that's what makes this novel so compelling. It's not just a story about art forgery. It's a story about human nature, about the choices we make and the consequences that follow.
And the power of art to connect us to something larger than ourselves.
Absolutely. The way Daniel uses his art to tell stories, to preserve memories, to make a statement about the world. It's inspiring.
And that final image he adds to the mural, the couple arriving at Constitution Station, it's just so poignant.
It speaks to the universality of the human experience, doesn't it? Like we all come from somewhere. We all have a story to tell.
And those stories are worth remembering, even the ones that seem ordinary or insignificant.
Because they make up the tapestry of life. And it's our responsibility to bear witness to them, to honor them, to keep them alive.
And that's exactly what this novel does. It reminds us of the power of storytelling, of the importance of remembering and of the enduring beauty that can be found in the most unexpected places.
So to our listeners out there, we leave you with this question. What lessons resonated with you most from lessons learned through forgery? We'd love to hear your thoughts. Share your insights on social media using the hashtag, hashtag deep dive forgery. Until next time, keep exploring, keep questioning and keep diving deep.