The subject of this book is fascinating—diving into the questionable provenance of NG6461 (the archival number of “Ruben’s’” “Samson and Delilah”) and its implications for art history. I read it all in one sitting and was excited to delve into the arguments. I’m grateful to NetGalley and the publishers, Eris and Columbia University Press, for providing me with an advance copy. However, I found myself conflicted about the way the author approached the topic.

There’s a fine line between passion and partisanship, and here the tone felt more like a Nancy Drew-esque ghost hunt than an academic investigation. While I appreciate the author’s enthusiasm and personal connection to the material, the heavy emphasis on her family, love for art, and dramatic phrases (“Had the museum’s experts not noticed the stylistic blunders that were so howlingly obvious to Siân, Steve, and me?” or — talking about how she wept at seeing Ruben’s’ tomb — “For all I know, he may have been a relative of mine”) detracted from her credibility as a researcher. Similarly, the reliance on support from fellow undergrads rather than established experts gave me pause.

At times, I wished for a more scholarly approach with greater detail. For example, the author references inventories listed in Christie’s provenance, where NG6461 is labeled “Naer Rubens” (a copy after Rubens). However, to a non-native German speaker or someone unfamiliar with inventories and art attribution, it’s unclear whether “naer” is a common label used to indicate a copy. From the way it’s presented in the book, it almost seems like the author’s own discovery or interpretation. Surely this could be easily proven or disproven with a bit more context or supporting evidence? Moments like this felt like missed opportunities to provide clarity and strengthen the argument.

After finishing the book (and doing my own online research), I’m inclined to agree that NG6461 is likely a fake. At the very least it’s provenance deserves more scrutiny, and both Christie’s and The National Gallery should be more transparent about their processes. But I was left uneasy. The tone leaned too much into the territory of an impassioned crusade, which made me wonder if that same intensity might explain why art historians were hesitant to engage with her inquiries.

It’s an intriguing story, but the execution left me wanting something more rigorous and less Nancy Drew.

A very personal account of a case attempting to prove a high-profile art forgery. It is a truly is mind-blowing and infuriating read. When the establishment locks its arms around an unsound 'narrative', a heroine took them on. Much to her, and others, personal cost.

My only sight criticism is that it tapered off swiftly, I would have liked to have understood better if there were any repercussions for those who, basically, rigged the provenance and 'final' auction details.

Thank you to NetGalley for an advanced copy of this book.

Euphrosyne Doxiadis dives headfirst into the mystery of London’s National Gallery’s Samson and Delilah, claiming it’s a copy, not an original Rubens. With historical evidence on her side, she takes on the British art world, only to hit walls of stubbornness and secrecy. This isn’t just about one painting—it’s a bigger commentary on how some institutions cling to outdated traditions over transparency. Equal parts detective story and cultural critique, this book is a must-read for art lovers and skeptics alike!

A detailed account of a fascinating case of art forgery. The author describes in a very personal and emotional way her decades-long struggle to expose a fake Rubens purchased by the National Gallery in London. The story itself is mind-blowing, and as I read it, I kept thinking that it could be the basis for a fascinating book written by an experienced journalist - but I also appreciate that it is written by the heroine herself, even if she can be a bit chaotic and I would like to have more background information included.

Thanks to the publisher, Eris and Columbia University Press, and NetGalley for an advanced copy of this book.