Review: Theo of Golden

The literary world was shocked when an unassuming book about an old man who waltzed around a small Southern town called Golden became a multimillion-selling bestseller.  The Wall Street Journal said it “broke every convention” of publishing.  Yes, when every convention of publishing is to treat every old white man as a form of societal cancer.

Somehow, an elder lawyer named Allen Levi, (a Christian at that!) convinced a publisher to give his book a try, and the result – although conclusive of a blemished and woeful book industry – is not all that surprising.  Theo of Golden’s startling success can be attributed to three factors: the dearth of positive portrayals of Christianity in secular literature, the dearth of positive portrayals of Southern life in secular literature (although the main character Theo… well, he’s not exactly from ‘rround here!), and the desperate need for American readers to see a white man happy and content and relatively giving in nature (and not used in an ironic context).

The main character, Theo, is a well-mannered, well meaning old man who suddenly turns up in the town of Golden, Georgia, seemingly out of nowhere.  He enters a picture shop and, awed by the number of paintings of real townsfolk, decides to buy the whole shop with his considerable wealth and distribute the paintings to their rightful owners.  Every week, he sits down on a park bench and offers to meet people simply to give them a painting.  Meanwhile, he dines and visits neighbors like Tony, a retired veteran, and Ellen, a homeless woman whose story eventually becomes the emotional high point of the novel.

To give the book some credit: I have never seen this premise used in a book, ever.  To start out with someone’s generosity being the main hook is a motif that seems out of place in today’s helter-skelter culture and worship of individual success. 

Except Theo is successful.  How, I will not spoil, but the ending of the book is chagrining.  It appears that every modern adult book these days has to end with some dramatic revelation of a figure’s past, but this one feels unnecessary and changes the context by which the main character is viewed.  It defeats the notion that Theo is somehow like us.  We wanted to be Theo, until we realize that we can’t be… so, what’s the point of Theo?

Perhaps the answer is Christianity.  Here, the books disappoints.  Tony, a staunch atheist, meets with Theo several times over the book.  Theo is a gentle Christian; too gentle.  He nudges Tony about Christianity, but the two never get into a signature “Gospel-sharing” message from Theo.  I don’t even care if Tony accepts the message or decides the relationship is over because of Theo’s evangelism.  Theo’s lack of ever “shipping” Christ out loud suggests that he is a bit of a coward.

Perhaps either Allen Levi or the publisher felt the need to not make the book so “evangelistic” (and I can guess which party did it).  But if Theo is set up like a Christian evangelist, then it simply does not make sense that he doesn’t “evangelize.” 

And finally, Theo’s relationship with the younger folk mostly involve some loose-crossed paths that become tighter as the end of the book arrives.  There is a lot of hewdy-goody scenes where the younger people somehow flock to Theo, just because of Theo’s virtuous qualities.  An elder male fantasy.  Theo does not seem like the kind of guy that a young person would want to follow unless he was ordered to by his church.

As mentioned before, there are some brilliant scenes.  Ellen’s story is chilling because it involves real work for Theo to even get to the heart of it.  That’s the kind of sacrificial impulse that I came for in the book.  That scene reminds me to talk to the women on the street sometimes.

I hear some say that Theo of Golden is the solution for our toxic public discourse.  I’d say: if only it went a lot harder.

2 stars