Utz keeps a fabulous collection of Meissen porcelain crammed into a tiny two-room flat. He is the perfect source for a story about the psychology of the collector. Through the Nazis and the communists, Utz has sacrificed to hold onto his porcelains because life is what he feels in their company, not what he does to keep them. His collection disappears after his death. The ensuing search illuminates Utz in a more revealing light, without solving the mystery. Did Utz's collection give him wisdom and long life, like porcelain gave Chinese emperors? Did he give life to his porcelains, like Rabbi Loew to his golem? Where is his collection?