In Allen Levi’s debut novel, Theo of Golden, Theo is a man in his 80s, originally from Portugal, who comes to visit to the small town of Golden, Georgia. He only gives his name as Theo, saying his last name is difficult to pronounce. When asked what brings him to town, he vaguely says he has some properties to attend to.

He enters a local coffee shop one day to find its walls lined with nicely-drawn portraits. When he asks about them, he learns they were made by a local artist and the subjects were all local people. Theo studies them intently. Then he decided to buy them, one at a time, and give them to the subjects in them. He gets a little help finding the right names and addresses and writes an elegant letter asking the subject to meet him at a public place, the town fountain. There he gives them the portrait of themselves, asks for their story, and tells what he sees in their portrait.

Theo is warned that some people might react negatively to such a request for a meeting with a stranger. But for the most part, the meetings go well and the recipients feel honored–not just to receive a portrait of themselves, but to hear Theo’s assessment. Most approach the meetings with curiosity, some with skepticism.

Along the way, we learn bits and pieces of Theo’s backstory. He’s cultured, well-traveled, and apparently has a seemingly endless supply of money. He has known tragedy that still haunts him.

We also learn about the townspeople. Though Golden, Georgia is very different from Jan Karon’s Mitford, NC, I get the same kind of feeling from them. There are some good-hearted, salt-of-the-earth types as well as quirky characters and a few villains.

Some of my favorite quotes:

How is it, Theo wondered, that a piece of paper – a letter, a photo, a ticket stub, a sketch, a painting – is suddenly transformed by placing it in four bits of wood beneath a pane of glass? What does it mean that we place permanent boundaries around transient moments? What does it say of humankind that we take such trouble to freeze specific memories, that we devote such energy to capturing and preserving the “minute particulars” of our lives?

It’s hard enough to define what art is, much less ‘good art.’ I wonder if there is such a thing. Maybe there are just good responses. But I guess if a work of art makes us see something familiar in a new way or makes us feel something we ought to have felt all along or shows us our place in the world more clearly, maybe then it qualifies as ‘good.’ If it makes us better somehow, maybe that’s what gives it value.

It was better to see one thing well than many poorly.

Music was a microcosm. It was portraiture in sound.

It is another of life’s great mysteries that sadness and joy can coexist.

Beauty, throughout my life, has always seemed to hint at something more.

When I first heard of Theo of Golden, I didn’t think the premise sounded very interesting. But I saw so many people just raving about this book, I decided to look into it. As I read, I thought it was . . . nice. At first I was afraid it was an “angel in disguise” story, but I was glad to see Theo was very human. He was a good example of putting interest in others before himself, showing kindness and generosity, seeing below the surface. Yet, I still didn’t quite see what all the fuss was about.

Then a little past the 80% mark, there was a gut-punch of a plot twist. As we learn who Theo really is in later pages, that changes everything about some of the relationships in the story.

Sometimes after I finish a book, I’ll look back at the first pages in light of what I know from the ending. I was astonished to find all sorts of little clues about what would come later. Some scenes were so much more poignant now. I decided to get the audiobook and listen through the whole book. I am so glad I did. It’s nicely read by David Morse. One thing I like about audiobooks is that I don’t usually think in the accents of the characters as I read, but hearing them greatly enhances the story.

One remarkable thing about this book is that the author did not write it with publication in mind. He’s had a checkered career as a lawyer, judge, musician, and songwriter. He wanted to challenge himself to see if he could write a complete novel. When he showed it to a few friends, they urged him to publish it.

Since he was almost 70, he didn’t want to go through the two-year process of traditional publishing. He asked his niece to look into self-publishing and handle that aspect of it. And that led to another remarkable happening: the book became a bestseller, largely by word of mouth. (A good article about its publishing journey is here, but it’s behind a paywall). Later, it was acquired by Simon and Schuster.

Some articles and interviews with Levi about the book:

• AARP
• The Washington Post
• The Gospel Coalition
• Christianity Today

The author did not want to publish the book as Christian fiction, but his faith informs his writing. There are some concise but clear references to the gospel and allusions to Bible passages. One of my favorite scenes is when a homeless woman with some possible mental issues tried to bring her bicycle into an upscale church. Some in the congregation called 911. Others were “curious and even amused that an actual sinner had entered the elegant premises of James, the saint. The biblically literate among them might have expected a finger to start writing on the wall.” The church’s name was St. James–interesting since the book of James has verses about not showing favoritism to the rich. After Theo and an older woman diffuse the situation, “One could almost hear the sound of stones dropping to the ground.”

There’s a theme of gold running through the book. Not only is the town named golden, but gold is pointed out in sign lettering, people’s clothes, a chalice, a river, jewelry, even leaves. It shows up so often that I am sure it’s meant to symbolize something, but I don’t know what. Maybe the image of God in flawed people, maybe looking for the good in them and in circumstances.

There’s also a theme of gifts. Theo tells people their portraits are a gift for which they don’t don’t have to do anything–a picture of grace. But gifts of various types, including kindness, are mentioned throughout the book.

There are a few language issues in the book, mostly from one or two characters. There are also some information dumps, a lot of unnecessary detail on certain points.

But overall, though the book was a slow burn at first, ultimately I ended up loving it.

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