A portrait or a parable? | Review of Theo of Golden by Allen Levi

Explore the gentle narrative of Allen Levi's Theo of Golden, a tale of connection, reflection, and spiritual themes.

When a book arrives with so much praise, you pick it up expecting something unusual. Allen Levi’s Theo of Golden carries that pressure of being called a special book from the very first page.

The central idea is interesting. It is not exactly out of the box, but it draws you in. Theo, an old man from New York, arrives alone in Golden, a peaceful Southern town in America where no one knows him. At a café, he notices a wall filled with pencil portraits, drawn with great skill by a local artist. Those faces stay with him. What begins as curiosity turns into a personal mission: he buys the portraits one by one, tracks down the people in them, and returns each drawing.

Through this routine, he gradually enters the lives of Golden’s residents. Nothing dramatic happens. He sits across from them and listens. There is an old painter, a confused young student, a bookseller, a prosecutor and his wife, a dignified street musician, and a father troubled by his child’s suffering.

While he listens to their stories, Theo speaks little about himself. In a small town, such silence invites doubt. People wonder who he is, why he has come, and what he seeks. At first, there is hesitation. But his manner is plain. He asks for nothing. Slowly, he earns people’s trust.

Meanwhile, the city of Golden comes alive in the narrative. Its streets, buildings, roads and markets are described in visible detail, giving the setting a presence of its own.

Despite the careful build-up, however, the promise the novel makes in the initial pages does not fully come through.