People asked me if I had read “Theo of Golden” yet. They were curious about my opinion because, mostly deservedly, I am understood to avoid sentimentality, gooeyness, simpler optimistic narratives. It is true, my tastes run to “Death of a Salesman,” “The Sun Also Rises,” “Herzog.” Serious stuff, problem novels, and satire.
But I have now read “Theo” and can respond to it. The story is gracefully told, smooth, an easy, even compelling read. On a pleasant spring day, an 87-year-old man, alert, physically fit, obviously wealthy, comes into Golden, Georgia, probably Columbus, rents a little apartment and begins to get to know people.
At the local coffeeshop, the Chalice, he notices 92 framed portraits on the wall, all expertly done, with insight and great attention to detail, by Asher Glissen, a local artist, a man he comes to know well. After examining the portraits at length Theo hatches a plan. He will buy them one at a time and give them to the subjects of the portraits.
First, he writes a charming, eloquent note inviting the subject to meet, at the city fountain, near the river, in daylight. There is no hint of a threat. One by one he meets and engages these people.
He has a gift, let’s call it, too rare these days. He really listens. He cares about his conversation partner. He, and the reader, learn their stories. Theo sees in the portraits that each subject possesses some sadness and that most are capable of saintliness, too.
Theo offers some generalizations. Art, he tells us, can only be truly good if there is love in it. Of suffering he concludes: the blame for all human hurts is to be shared by everyone. Of fate in general Theo suggests “There is a mysterious choreography in our lives, yes?” Things that happen were perhaps meant to happen, as was suggested in “The Celestine Prophecy.”
In some cases, the gift of the portrait is followed by other gifts—the very thing that person needs. A man’s daughter is injured and needs a better doctor, for example, because there is evil in the world, even in Golden. Greed, rotten behavior and rotten luck are a part of the mix and Theo himself has suffered, recovering from personal tragedy through his love of the natural world and communion with others. Otherwise, we learn very little about him. Goldenites might recognize, however, that his name means “God” and that it is wise to be on the lookout for gods, visiting incognito.
Early in his career Sean of the South developed an audience with blog posts describing acts of human kindness he had witnessed: one person returning another’s lost wallet, for example. One cannot make fun of these examples. And, it would be churlish to make fun of Theo. Anyway, I don’t want to.
