In anticipation of the BRIC sale in London, the Guardian‘s Stuart Jeffiries goes a little overboard hyping Simon de Pury:

If a film is ever made of Swiss auctioneer Baron Simon de Pury’s life (and there really should be), then Jeremy Irons and Bill Nighy must be made to fight over the role. Irons could reprise his mittel-European accent from Die Hard with a Vengeance, while Nighy – soigné, snake-hipped and with the air of a potentially very naughty boy – can turn the knees of women of a certain age to jelly.

These thoughts occur to me as the beaming baron sweeps across the floor of his auction house in a tailored blue suit with matching silk tie. “Yes, it is true I am a baron, but nobody ever calls me that, apart from the BBC,” he says, shaking my hand, his incessant rictus smile hardening. Behind him are nine urinals, sitting in a row. His fate, it transpires, is bound up with theirs.Continue Reading