A Conspiracy of Paper (Benjamin Weaver Series #1)

by David Liss

Overview

THE HISTORICAL THRILLER OF THE YEAR

Benjamin Weaver is an outsider in eighteenth-century London: a Jew among Christians; a ruffian among aristocrats; a retired pugilist who, hired by London's gentry, travels through the criminal underworld in pursuit of debtors and thieves.

In A Conspiracy of Paper, Weaver investigates a crime of the most personal sort: the mysterious death of his estranged father, a notorious stockjobber. To find the answers, Weaver must contend with a desperate prostitute who knows too much about his past, relatives who remind him of his alienation from the Jewish faith, and a cabal of powerful men in the world of British finance who have hidden their business dealings behind an intricate web of deception and violence. Relying on brains and brawn, Weaver uncovers the beginnings of a strange new economic order based on stock speculation--a way of life that poses great risk for investors but real danger for Weaver and his family.

In the tradition of The Alienist and written with scholarly attention to period detail, A Conspiracy of Paper is one of the wittiest and most suspenseful historical novels in recent memory, as well as a perceptive and beguiling depiction of the origin of today's financial markets. In Benjamin Weaver, author David Liss has created an irresistibly appealing protagonist, one who parlays his knowledge of the emerging stock market into a new kind of detective work.

Product Details

ISBN-13:	9780375505041
Publisher:	Random House Publishing Group
Publication date:	03/28/2000
Series:	Benjamin Weaver Series , #1
Sold by:	Random House
Format:	eBook
Pages:	448
File size:	841 KB

About the Author

David Liss was born in 1966 and grew up in south Florida. He is currently a doctoral candidate in the department of English at Columbia University, where he is completing his dissertation on how the mid-eighteenth-century novel reflects and shapes the emergence of the modern idea of personal finance. He has given numerous conference papers on his research and has also published on Henry James. He has received several awards for his work, including the Columbia President's Fellowship, an A. W. Mellon Research Fellowship, and the Whiting Dissertation Fellowship. He holds an M.A. degree from Georgia State University and a B.S. degree from Syracuse University. Liss lives in New York City with his wife and can be reached via his website, www.davidliss.com.

Hometown:

San Antonio, Texas

Date of Birth:

March 16, 1966

Place of Birth:

Englewood, New Jersey

Education:

B.S., M.A., M.Phil.

Read an Excerpt

For some years now, the gentlemen of the book trade have pressed me in the most urgent fashion to commit my memoirs to paper; for, these men have argued, there are many who would gladly pay a few shillings to learn of the true and surprising adventures of my life. While it has been my practice to dismiss this idea with a casual wave of the hand, I cannot claim to have never seriously thought on it, for I have often been the first to congratulate myself on having seen and experienced so much, and many times have I gladly shared my stories with good company around a cleared dinner table. Nevertheless, there is a difference between tales told over a late-night bottle of claret and a book that any man anywhere can pick up and examine. Certainly I have taken pleasure from the idea of recounting my history, but I have also recognized that to publish would be a ticklish endeavor-the names and specifics of my adventures would touch nearly on so many people still living that any such book would be actionable to say the least. Yet the idea has intrigued-even plagued me, no doubt due to the vanity that breeds within all men's breasts, and perhaps within mine more than most. I have therefore decided to write this book as I see fit. If the gentlemen of Grub Street wish to dash out names of obscure connections, then they may do so. For my part, I shall retain the manuscript so that there can be some true record of these events, if not for this age, then for posterity.

I have been at some pains to decide how to begin, for I have seen many things of interest to the general public. Shall I begin like the novelists, with my birth, or like the poets, in the midst of the action? Perhaps neither. I think I shall begin my tale with the day-now more than thirty-five years ago-when I met William Balfour, for it is the matter regarding his father's death that brought me some small measure of success and recognition with the public. Until now, however, few men have known the whole truth behind that affair.

Mr. Balfour first called on me late one morning in October of 1719, a year of much turmoil upon this island-the nation lived in constant fear of the French and their support for the heir to the deposed King James, whose Jacobitical followers threatened continually to retake the British monarchy. Our German King was but four years upon the throne, and the power struggles within his ministry created a feeling of chaos throughout the capital. All the newspapers decried the burden of the nation's debt, which they said could never be paid, but that debt showed no sign of decreasing. This era was one of exuberance as well as turmoil, doom, and possibility. It was a fine time for a man whose livelihood depended upon crime and confusion.

Matters of national politics held little interest for me, however, and the only debt I cared for was my own. And the day I begin my tale I had even more pressing cares than my precarious finances. I had been long awake, but only recently out of bed and dressed, when my landlady, Mrs. Garrison, informed me that there was a Christian gentleman below who wished to see me. My good landlady always felt the need to specify that it was a Christian gentleman come to visit, though in the months I had resided with her, no Jew but myself had ever entered her premises.

That morning I found myself disordered and in no condition to receive visitors, let alone strangers, so I asked Mrs. Garrison to send him away, but in her intrepid manner-for Mrs. Garrison was a stalwart creature she returned, informing me that the gentleman's business was urgent. "He says it relates to a murder," she told me in the same dull tone she used to announce increases in my rent. Her pallid and beveined face hardened to show her displeasure. "That's what he said-murder-plain as anything. I cannot say it pleases me, Mr. Weaver, to have men come to my house talking of murder."

I could not fully comprehend why, if the word was so distasteful to her ears, she should pronounce it quite so loudly within the halls, but I saw my task was to comfort her. "I quite understand, madam. The gentleman surely said 'mercer' and not 'murder,'" I lied, "for I am engaged in a concern of textiles at this moment. Please send him up."

The word murder had caught my attention as well as Mrs. Garrison's. Having been involved in a murder of sorts not twelve hours earlier, I thought this matter might concern me indeed. This Balfour would certainly be a scavenger of some kind-the sort of desperate renegade with which London seethed, a creature who combed the dank and filthy streets near the river, hunting for anything he might pawn, including information. No doubt he had heard something of the unfortunate adventure with which I had met and had come to ask me to pay for his silence. I knew well how to dispose of a man of this stripe. Not with money, certainly, for to give a rascal any silver at all was to encourage him to return for more. No, I had found that in these cases violence usually did my business. I would think of something bloodless-something that would not attract Mrs. Garrison's attention when I escorted the blackguard out. A woman with no taste for the talk of murder under her roof should hardly countenance an act of mutilation paraded down her staircase.

I took a moment to order my receiving room, as I called it. I took two rooms of Mrs. Garrison, one private, the other in which I conducted my business. Like many businessmen-for so I fancied myself, even then-I had been used to order my affairs in a local coffeehouse, but the delicate nature of my work had made such public venues unacceptable to the men I served. Instead, I had set up a room with several comfortable chairs, a table around which to sit, and a handsome set of shelves that I used to store wine and cheese rather than the books for which they were designed. Mrs. Garrison had done the decorating, and while she had given the room an inappropriately cheery tone with its pinkish-white paint and light blue curtains, I found that a few swords and martial prints about the walls helped to add a sufficiently manly corrective.

I took pride in these rooms being so very proper, for the genteel tone put the gentlemen who came to seek my services at ease. My trade frequently involved the unsavory, and gentlemen, I had learned, preferred the illusion that they dealt in simple business-nothing more.

I should like to add, though I risk accusations of vanity, I took pride in my own appearance as well. I had escaped my years as a pugilist with few of the badges that gave fellow-veterans of the ring the appearance of ruffians-missing eyes, mashed noses, or suchlike disfigurements-and had no more to show for my beatings than some small scars about my face and a nose that bore only the mild bumps and jagged edges that come with several breakings. Indeed, I fancied myself a well-enough-looking man, and I made a point of always dressing neatly, if modestly. I wore upon my body only clean shirts, and none of my coats and waistcoats were more than a year old. Yet, though I minded my clothing, I was none of your sprightly popinjays who wore the latest bright colors and frills; a man of my trade always prefers simple fashions that draw to himself no particular attention.

I seated myself at my large oaken writing desk, which faced the door. I used this desk when I ordered my affairs, but I had discovered that it served to make clear my authority. I thus picked up a pen and contorted the muscles in my face to resemble something like a man both busy and irritated.

When Mrs. Garrison showed this visitor in, however, I was at pains to conceal my surprise. William Balfour was no prig-as we called thieves in those days-but a gentleman of fine dress and appearance. He was perhaps five years younger than myself. I gauged him at two- or three-and twenty. He was a tall, gaunt, stooped man with something of a sunken look on a wide, handsome face that was only slightly marred by the scars of smallpox. He wore a wig of the first quality, but it showed its age and wear in its stains and a dingy sallow color poorly hidden by powder. Similarly, his clothes bore the signs of fine tailoring, but they looked a bit overused, covered with the dust of road and panic and cheap lodgings. His waistcoat in particular, once laced with fine silver stuff, was now tattered and threadbare. There was, too, something in his eyes. I could not tell if it was suspicion or fatigue or defeat, and he observed me with a skepticism to which I was all too accustomed. Most men who walk through that door, you understand, had a look prepared for me-scorn, doubt, superiority. A few even had admiration. Men of this last category had seen me in my prime as a pugilist, and their love of sport overcame their embarrassment at seeking the aid of a Jew who meddled in other men's unpleasantries. This Balfour looked at me as neither Jew nor pugilist, but as something else-something of no consequence whatsoever, almost as though I were the servant who should take him to the man he sought.

What People are Saying About This

John Jakes

A Conspiracy of Paper is exciting, intelligent, and witty--a rare combination in historical novels. It is rich in intriguing detail and peopled with fascinating characters. Recommended enthusiastically.
— (John Jakes, author of American Dreams)

Arthur Golden

In A Conspiracy of Paper, David Liss has woven a tale of 18th-century finance, murder, and religion that is a remarkable debut and a thoroughly satisfying novel.
— (Arthur Golden, author of Memoirs of a Geisha)

Reading Group Guide

1. Do you think Weaver should have constantly bailed Miriam out of trouble? What do you think about him not getting the girl in the end? Did you want to see them together or was the books' ending more believable?

2. Did this novel make you change your sentiments about the current stock market? Did it make you want to become more cautious in your own investments? Did you read it as a cautionary tale?

3. For many centuries orthodox Jewish communities have lived inside European societies but also outside of them. In what ways did Lienzo's fear harm his son? In what ways did it protect him? Do you think the Jews of the eighteenth-century London did themselves a service or disservice by closing themselves off?

4. The "gentlemen" at Sir Owen's club put Weaver in the uncomfortable position of having to speak for his entire culture. Have you ever been in a situation where you were the only minority (religious, racial, economic, etc.)? How did it feel to have a group looking at you as the spokesperson for your community? Can you think of any modern parallels?

5. Instead of praising his son, Benjamin, for defending the elderly Mrs. Cantas from anti-Semites, Lienzo strikes him? What did you think of Lienzo's behavior? What would it be like to live in constant fear of drawing attention to your community? Can you think of any modern parallels?

6. Who do you think was more honorable in his ways of doing business: the criminal Jonathan Wild, or Nathan Adelman? Why?

7. Near the end of the book, Adelman says to Weaver about the murder of Sir Owen, "You need only to believe, Mr. Weaver." And Benjamin answers, "Like the newfinance . . . it is true only so long as we believe it is true." What do you think the author is trying to say about the future of the stock market by letting Weaver believe someone he knows is unreliable?

8. Have you ever been caught up in a mania like the South Sea Bubble? What did it teach you about fads? Would you allow it to happen again?

9. As a child, Benjamin idolized boxers for their ability to fight. Compare his physicality to his relatives' intellectual and financial pursuits. Do you think Weaver's attraction to boxing was a response to the precariousness of his community?

10. At the end of the book the powerful Adelman comes out on top. Yet he is a member of a disempowered group. Do the many conspiracies in this book ultimately benefit the disenfranchised, or the powerful?

11. Discuss the title A Conspiracy of Paper. Do you think the author used the word "paper" to evoke written histories and novels as well as money? Do you believe that history is written by those who come out on top? How do you think "paper" will fare in our increasingly electronic age?

Editorial Reviews

David Liss's A Conspiracy of Paper was the most ballyhooed literary debut of the year 2000. Set in 18th-century London, the novel tells the story of Benjamin Weaver, a Jewish pugilist turned private investigator, who is drawn into the labyrinthine world of British finance while attempting to solve the murder of his estranged father.

bn.com

An impressive, often thrilling hybrid: an adventure novel with scholarly credentials in which financial intrigue is punctuated with frequent swordplay....Liss's depiction of Jewish life in 18th-century London, along with his vivid portrait of the city's criminal gangs and stinking thoroughfares, is neatly woven into a clever plot that rarely pauses for breath....And even those who don't know a guinea from a pound will find the novel's romance irresistible.
— New York Daily News

Anna Mundow

A Conspiracy of Paper is a magical carpet ride of a book, transporting readers into the hurly-burly streets of 18th-century London. David Liss metamorphoses fastidious research into a novel chock full of historical detail that fascinates as it entertains. It's a rich read that never drags....It is a work that any novelist would be proud to acknowledge and, consider that it is a first novel, a particularly impressive display of talent.
— Denver Post

Robin Vidimos

A hypnotic thriller and a thoughtful depiction of 18th-century London, which was being transformed by the emergence of new money, the stock market, and speculative manias; in other words, a culture that looks much like our own.
— Talk Magazine

James Surowiecki

Stern principles are upheld with conspicuous dignity by Benjamin Weaver, the swashbuckling shamus in David Liss's genre-stretching first novel....Liss, a Columbia University graduate student specializing in the relationship between capitalism and the early English novel, has put his researches to imaginative and profitable use.....Appreciators of authenticity should be pleased with Liss's graphic venues....True to the P.I. breed, the Lion of Judah is never intimidated. He handles his liquor and licks his adversaries with equal confidence.
— Time Magazine

R. Z. Sheppard

Roiling with bloody intrigue and splayed against the flamboyant vanities, politics and stock-market shenanigans of 18th Century London, this captivating mystery novel ought to leave fans of big, rambunctious fiction limp with happy exhaustion and, perhaps, nagged with cautionary thoughts about the dot-com culture of our own day.....First-time novelist David Liss has produced--cue Masterpiece Theater theme music here--an intricately rendered detective procedural that moves beyond the form's old standbys, greed and murder, to consider the ways in which ambiguous morality erodes social institutions and the culture as a whole....There is a deeply satisfying sense of historical detail and integrity in these pages.
— Miami Herald

Margaria Fichtner

A murder mystery about securities fraud in 18th-Century London might not seem like a formula for popular success. But all the stars have line up to make A Conspiracy of Paper, David Liss' first novel, an unusually entertaining and engrossing story. First there is the author, a doctoral student at Columbia University whose specialty is finance in 18th-Century fiction; here he gets the chance to put his scholarship to work. Second, there is his detective-hero, an appealing character called Benjamin Weaver who combines an ex-boxer's strength with the shrewdness of Philip Marlowe, and whose eccentric position in London society--he is a Portuguese Jew at a time when Jews were practically unknown in England--allows him to see the world from a unique perspective. And third, there is our own time, for New York in 2000 is uncannily similar to London in 1719: Both enjoy spectacular wealth from a stock market whose operations, and future, nobody quite understands....Liss has woven a large number of strands into a satisfying pattern...If A Conspiracy of Paper gets the readers it deserves, that sequel should not be long in coming.
^#151; Newsday

Adam Kirsch

Engaging and multifaceted....What makes A Conspiracy of Paper so readable is that Liss manages to create a number of arresting side pots featuring everything from the London underworld to boxing to social mores to English anti-Semitism. And all these sketches are populated with a thoroughly mixed bag of characters, varying from the Dickensian to the Orwellian....That he succeeds in making comprehensible a historical period that seems to have been built on obfuscation is remarkable. That the period was so similar to our own may be a warning as well.
— New York Times Book Review

James Polk

A Conspiracy of Paper is an evocation of English history that you can happily get lost in for days....In Mr. Liss's rich historical imagination, a London ripening for investment hysteria comes vividly to life.
— New York Times

Christopher Lehmann-Haupt

There is plenty to entertain the reader here...
— Washington Post Book World

Bruce Cook

A tremendously entertaining novel: an intricate mystery, a colorful rogue's gallery and, improbably, a history lesson on the birth of the stock market....a nuanced evocation of the 1700s--the courtly language, the caste systems that divided genders, classes and religions--and it's enormous fun.
—Newsweek

Jeffrey Giles

Tremendously smart, assured, and entertaining . . . An intricate mystery, a colorful rogues’ gallery and, improbably, a history lesson on the birth of the stock market.”
—Newsweek

“THE PLOT DRAWS YOU IN FROM PAGE TO PAGE. . . . An evocation of English history that you can happily get lost in for days.”
—CHRISTOPHER LEHMANN-HAUPT
The New York Times

“REMARKABLE . . . ENGAGING . . . The first stock market crash in the English-speaking world is about to burst, and a whole way of life is about to burst with it.”
—The New York Times Book Review

“A VORTEX OF STOCK FRAUD AND MURDER . . . [A] GENRE-STRETCHING FIRST NOVEL.”
—Time

“HIGHLY ENTERTAINING . . . FIENDISHLY INTRICATE . . . Compares favorably with An Instance of the Fingerpost.”
—Kirkus Reviews (starred review)

“A tale of eighteenth-century finance, murder, and religion that is a remarkable debut and a thoroughly satisfying novel.”
—ARTHUR GOLDEN
Author of Memoirs of a Geisha

“An old-fashioned detective story, with London’s teeming streets and taverns as its backdrop. . . . An artfully constructed potboiler: the sort of thing that would make a good ‘Mystery!’ series on PBS.”
—The New Yorker

“A Conspiracy of Paper is exciting, intelligent, and witty—a rare combination in historical novels. It is rich in intriguing detail and peopled with fascinating characters. Recommended enthusiastically.”
—JOHN JAKES
Author of American Dreams

“A well-researched and highly entertaining historical mystery . . . [A] tale of financial skullduggery and multiple murder . . . Conveyed in vivid extended scenes characterized by crisp dialogue and a keen sense of the ways in which character reveals itself . . . The very model of a modern historical mystery.”
—Kirkus Reviews (starred review)

“Terrific . . . Set in a vividly realized eighteenth-century London . . . Although a financial boom fueled by a new economy or a personal struggle with ethnic identity may seem awfully contemporary, Liss keeps us firmly in another time. . . . The book crackles with period detail, yet the immense research never shows. . . . One can only hope that Liss isn’t finished with Benjamin Weaver.”
—Booklist

From the Publisher