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Binding: Paperback
Dewey Decimal Number: 650
EAN: 9780553384772
Edition: Reprint
ISBN: 0553384775
Label: Bantam
Manufacturer: Bantam
Number Of Items: 1
Number Of Pages: 528
Publication Date: August 26, 2008
Publisher: Bantam
Release Date: August 26, 2008
Studio: Bantam
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Product Description:
By day he made thousands of dollars a minute. By night he spent it as fast as he could, on drugs, sex, and international globe-trotting. From the binge that sank a 170-foot motor yacht, crashed a Gulfstream jet, and ran up a $700,000 hotel tab, to the wife and kids who waited for him at home, and the fast-talking, hard-partying young stockbrokers who called him king and did his bidding, here, in his own inimitable words, is the story of the ill-fated genius they called…
In the 1990s Jordan Belfort, former kingpin of the notorious investment firm Stratton Oakmont, became one of the most infamous names in American finance: a brilliant, conniving stock-chopper who led his merry mob on a wild ride out of the canyons of Wall Street and into a massive office on Long Island. Now, in this astounding and hilarious tell-all autobiography, Belfort narrates a story of greed, power, and excess no one could invent.
Reputedly the prototype for the film Boiler Room, Stratton Oakmont turned microcap investing into a wickedly lucrative game as Belfort’s hyped-up, coked-out brokers browbeat clients into stock buys that were guaranteed to earn obscene profits–for the house. But an insatiable appetite for debauchery, questionable tactics, and a fateful partnership with a breakout shoe designer named Steve Madden would land Belfort on both sides of the law and into a harrowing darkness all his own.
From the stormy relationship Belfort shared with his model-wife as they ran a madcap household that included two young children, a full-time staff of twenty-two, a pair of bodyguards, and hidden cameras everywhere—even as the SEC and FBI zeroed in on them—to the unbridled hedonism of his office life, here is the extraordinary story of an ordinary guy who went from hustling Italian ices at sixteen to making hundreds of millions. Until it all came crashing down…
From the Hardcover edition.
Average Rating: 
Rating:  -
At one point, I stood far away from the trash can, ready for my free throw. "If I can toss this book in, I don't have to finish it." I missed. Sigh. On the plus side, this book helped me endure a boring shift at work.
If you want to read well-crafted literature that's similar in its subject matter (an actual Wall-Streeter, as opposed to boiler room Wolfie, and his dabblings in misogyny, drugs, excess, crime, etc.), try "American Psycho." Much more worth the time and a real bang-for-your-buck shock value as opposed to this schlock. Brett Easton Ellis is a bona fide writer, Belfort is a clown with a laptop.
Negatives. Where to begin?
I don't believe half of what is in this book, and the half that is true most likely got left out. Am I sniffing a million little pieces -- I mean -- rats? The "piles" of coke on his desk into which he crashes his head like hitting a pillow? Gotta be lifted from Scarface. Hilariously, Belfort claims that the book serves as a warning to prevent others going down the same debauched path. This would be a miraculously caring and selfless feat given the fact that his self-awareness level lurks somewhere down around Dante's ninth circle of hell, if not directly in it.
The "prose" -- loosely termed -- invokes a vision of Belfort yelling this "true" story over thumping sound system to one of his cretinous little friends as they get simultaneous lap dances during a binge-fueled night at Scores. Perhaps a creative writing course might be in order for the next sequel, "Wolfie's Capers in White Collar Camp." You know book number three is inevitable.
He claims that the captain of his yacht referred to the starboard side as the "right." Even at gunpoint, no captain would call use that term, much less risk the lives of guests and crew by sailing out into gale force winds and twenty foot waves, so I wonder what additional sinking-of-the-Nadine info he's lying about/leaving out. He refers to his wife as his most prized "possession," always a nice thing to read as a female. Our Miller Lite heroine does little more than shop, [...], throw water at his face and withhold sex or give him sex, depending on which way the wind doth blow, endowing her character with as much dimension Barbie doll. We endure so much description about her chiseled cheekbones and flowing blonde mane and "loamy loins" (a campy phrase repeated three-countem'-three times!), why can't we learn one iota about her as a person? Why does she put up with his crap? He guesses she likes the "Life" he provides her (duh), but I would have liked more depth when it comes to Nadine. Actually, more depth everywhere would be nice.
There is simply no resolution to all the conflict in this book. He speaks nothing of amends to the hundreds (thousands?) he's screwed over, yet he claims to love The Program. Although now sober, he has not become a new or improved person, and even brags about taking advantage of others in rehab with bribes and motivational speeches to gain unearned privileges. He's still a despicable self-enamored bull artist -- his writing this book proves it. There's no remorse or lesson, it's a 500-page brag session. And it's dedicated to his children? Sad. I hope his children never have to witness how depraved their father portrays himself, or the poor things will need intense therapy and heavy psychotropic meds for the rest of their lives.
I could go on and on but why waste our time? Seriously, save your money for the movie (yep, it's coming in 2010). At least DiCaprio's acting talent may do the story justice, unlike Belfort's writing talent (or lack thereof, that is).
Rating: -
A colleague recommended I read The Wolf of Wall Street, explaining how he couldn't put it down once he got started. Sadly enough, I did not quite enjoy the book half as much as he did.
The title, The Wolf of Wall Street, left me with the impression that the book would follow a slick investment banker or a shrewd stock broker, discussing how he made tens of millions of dollars before reaching 30 years old, and possibly delving into the antics and behaviors that would earn a young guy such a name like "The Wolf." However... no such topics were touched upon even once in the entire book. Jordan Belfort, the author of this self-aggrandizing autobiography, could have titled the book with a phrase he used (and used proudly at that) in almost every chapter to describe the spectacle that had become his daily life subsequently following his rise to opulence: "Lifestyles of the Rich and Dysfunctional."
Had I known not a single story in the entire lengthy book would even so much as take place on Wall Street, I likely would not have picked up the book. Had I known this was a 500+ page story dominated by seemingly exaggerated tales of drug abuse, and had I known most of those drug-related stories would simply be recycled and reused in one form or another in just about every chapter, then, once again, I likely would not have spent hours and hours reading this work. The Wolf of Wall Street doesn't even attempt to explain where and why Mr. Belfort received that nickname for which the book was apparently named. Had I wanted to read an entire story about sexual debauchery, drug addiction, and the dysfunctional families such popularly indecent tendencies give way to, I would have gone to the `Self-Help' section at the book store (as opposed to the `business' section, where this book was found).
This simply was not the story I expected, and the slick marketers who designed the cover and helped come up the title for this novel really pulled the ol' "bait and switch" on us innocent readers. Anyway, I should have put the book down after page 100, but I just kept waiting for the good part, or the insightful part, or the meat of the story..., but, truth be told, this book lacks direction, lacks a plot, lacks in insight, and doesn't ever really go anywhere.
I would not recommend this book to anyone, and I struggle to understand why my coworker would ever refer a book like this to me in the first place. I will not read the sequel, because I already feel like I read the same 100 pages 5 times over - I wasted enough time and money the first time around, and I refuse to read another 500 pages worth of Jordan Belfort repeating the same stories in various settings.
Rating: -
It's rare that I don't get through a book, but after about 100 pages of WoWS, I'd had enough. It starts out promising with Belfort just starting out as "pond scum" in a large brokerage. But that lasts all of one chapter and by chapter 2, Belfort is awash in money with his own company, arguing with his CFO father about a 400k American Express bill, meeting Very Important People across the globe, regaling us with his antics in airplanes, his over the top drug use that makes Slash and Nikki Sixx look like altar boys, and sex with hookers that his trophy wife unbelievably puts up with. Now how did he get all this money? He doesn't say. How did he start his own company that employs "thousands" of eager young brokers? No clue. What was his trick that got him both of these things? Couldn't tell ya. Maybe he is nice enough to tell us later in the book, but it wasn't worth it for me to find out.
I was lucky enough to have borrowed this from the library so Belfort didn't make a dime off of me. Do yourself a favor and skip this self-indulged piece of dreck.
Rating: -
I wouldn't spend a dime to put in Belfort's pocket, but since I found this book tossed on the floor of the airport I started to read it. I couldn't get through more than one third of the book. It is poorly written and edited. Belabored and obviously over the top. No mention of how really rotten Jordan Belfort is. The lives he damaged.
Obviously Jordan is not a literary genius.
Perhaps only in his mind. It's childish in it's prose, but what could you expect from a street trash uneducated convicted felon. No more No less.
Belfort's bragging, and endless stories of his "hey days" are moronic and so typical of the mindset of a criminal.
It seems more like boasting about his bad behavior. His children must feel such shame when they realize they carry his genes and name. I feel pity for them.
Don't waste your time or money on this garbage. In fact if you want my copy go to LAX and look in the garbage can.
The fact he is out there pushing this trash only reinforces to me he is not remorseful. He says writing a book is "hard work". Tell that to the coal miner, or school teacher, or truck driver. Give me a break. He is no Wolf of Wall Street, more like a total nothing of no where.
Perhaps more jail time in a jail that was actually a JAIL would make him remorseful. I know this jail, it is for sissys. It is not a bad place to while away the time, pretending to be remorseful.
This book is trash and not worthy of your time or money. Don't put any more money in shortys pockets.
Rating: -
Waste Of Time And Money!
I didn't even get half way through this book. It is the most boring and stupid book I have ever read/attempted to read. His first day at his new company seems to read like an episode of 24, except its extremely boring and monotonous. Pretty sure 13 hours of his life went for about 90 pages and nothing interesting happened.
He never gives any indication of how he makes his money and starts his company. One page he is starting out as a stock broker learning a few lessons, next chapter he flies home in his helicopter.
This is my first review on Amazon, I felt compelled to warn other readers not to waste their time!
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