Theo of Golden (by Allen Levi)
I was so impressed by Theo of Golden by Allen Levi that the first day I started the audiobook, I told my husband over dinner what I’d learned so far. He said it sounded really creative and asked where I’d heard about it. Before I answered, I thought: Where haven’t I heard about this book? It had been everywhere—book emails, social media, a friend’s strong recommendation. I’d seen it praised so many times that I finally placed a Libby hold. I’m usually skeptical of heavily hyped books, so it took me a while to give this one a chance.
Oh. My. Word. Am I glad I did. Theo of Golden deserves every ounce of praise it receives.
Theo, a mysterious elderly stranger, arrives one spring in the small city of Golden, Georgia. He says little about where he came from or why he is there. At a local coffeehouse, pencil portraits of townspeople hang on the walls. Theo begins buying them one by one and giving each portrait to the person it depicts, asking only for their story in return. Secrets surface. Regrets are spoken. Friendships form. Ordinary lives quietly change.
I loved every second of it.
Theo is eighty-six, and that fact alone delighted me. He arrives as a stranger and becomes, almost immediately, the kind of person you want more of in the world. His kindness isn’t flashy. It’s steady, specific, and quietly astonishing. Watching him build relationships in the community was one of the great pleasures of the book. He listens. He notices. He gives people back a piece of themselves, then stays long enough to hear what that gift unlocks.
I also loved how completely the novel is centered on art: a talented artist, a humble career, an impressive collection, and the simple power of a portrait to make someone feel seen. Theo’s way of helping people in need grows from the same impulse—attention first, then generosity. The writing is beautiful without calling attention to itself. Levi makes ordinary rooms, coffeehouse walls, and quiet conversations feel full of meaning.
The emotional range surprised me. The book is inspiring and warm-hearted, then deeply sad, then heartwarming again. I felt all of it. That movement between light and grief is what made Theo’s story stay with me after I finished.
I was shocked to learn in the author’s note that this is Allen Levi’s debut novel. His inspiration for the book is a delight in itself and made the whole experience even richer. I listened to the audiobook narrated by David Morse, and it was phenomenal. His voice matched exactly what I expected Theo to sound like.
This is a book about being seen—about giving something away and receiving a life in return. I finished it grateful I had spent the time with Theo.
Donna Tartt’s The Goldfinch is one of my all-time favorite novels. Whenever I tell my husband I really loved a book, he asks if it was as good as The Goldfinch. This time I told him Theo of Golden is right up there with it. After I finished giving him a synopsis of the rest of the story, he went straight to Levi’s website and started looking up the author and upcoming events. The site is lovely—warm, unhurried, and very much in keeping with the spirit of the book. You can find it here: allenlevi.com.
Sadly, no events are listed right now. I’ll be keeping an eye out. If Levi ever comes anywhere near Kentucky, I will be in that room. Until then, I’m glad to have found both the novel and the man who wrote it, and I’m happy to point other readers toward his corner of the internet.
Theo spends his days admiring the quiet things — water catching light, birds moving through it, the kind of stillness that asks you to slow down and simply notice. It felt right to close this review with photos of our own doterra, taken by my husband, whose eye behind an iPhone camera has become its own quiet art form. A book so devoted to seeing people fully deserves closing images devoted to seeing something small and beautiful fully, too.
Photo credit: lostthepath.com
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