Tricky Vic: The Impossibly True Story of the Man Who Sold the Eiffel Tower by Greg Pizzoli (review)

Evidently “Go big or go home” applies to crime as well as sports, and it could be an apt mantra for Robert Miller, alias Count Victor Lustig, an early twentieth century swindler whose cons grew to monumental proportions. Pizzoli’s short and stylish account follows Miller from his early years as a gifted student and gambler, who finds a way to put his multilingual skills, good looks, and polished demeanor to lucrative, if risky, use. First, he bilks ocean-liner passengers out of their money, comes to America and cons Al Capone into blessing his game, and then ups the ante with the Romanian Money Box con, an oldie but goodie that lets the perp slip out of town before the mark finds himself stuck with nothing. The acme of Lustig’s career, though, was convincing contractors to bid on demolishing Paris’s aging and decrepit Eiffel Tower and selling the valuable iron for scrap—award going to the gullible high bidder and cash going into Lustig’s pocket. Yes, he got his comeuppance and spent his final days in federal prison—but what a fabulous story he left behind. Pizzoli nimbly walks the line between censure of Lustig’s crime and utter delight in his cleverness and boldness. The picture-book format—a mash-up of retro-styled cartooning and period reproduction vignettes, with our bowler-hatted anti-hero portrayed with a pixelated fingerprint for a face—works wonderfully. Sidebars supplement the text, and visual gags complement the wry tone, with would-be buyer Mr. Poisson depicted with a fish head, and another mark helpfully sporting a name tag, “Hello, my name is Mark.” A glossary, selected sources, and an author’s note are included, and Pizzoli clarifies how he dealt with shaky information. After all, “I wouldn’t want you to feel as though you’ve been conned.”