Theo

Quick Facts

• Role: Central protagonist of the novel’s 2019 storyline; Nigerian-American PhD candidate in art history at Georgetown
• Focus: Dissertation on the depiction of Africans in British art; his discovery of a discarded horse painting sparks the modern investigation into Lexington
• First appears: In Washington, D.C., where a neighbor’s trash heap changes his research—and life
• Key relationships: Jess (a Smithsonian osteologist), Clancy (his kelpie), his formidable mother Abiona and late father, and his Yale friend Daniel
• Physical presence: Tall, athletic, with a heavy fall of ringlets, long-fingered hands, eyes “the color and luster of maple syrup,” a scar near his ear from polo, and a poorly healed metatarsal—signs of a physically demanding past he rarely discusses

Who They Are

Boldly curious yet carefully guarded, Theo is a historian-detective whose empathy for the past animates the present. His chance discovery of a nineteenth-century horse painting doesn’t just ignite a research project; it connects him to the erased life-worlds of Black horsemen and, crucially, to the enslaved groom Jarret Lewis, whose story his own begins to mirror. In the contemporary timeline, Theo’s romance with Jess entwines art history and osteology, turning academic inquiry into a shared moral mission.

Theo embodies the longing to restore what history has obscured. He moves through the world with diplomatic polish and scholarly rigor, but his story reveals how even exemplary civility and achievement are vulnerable within a society that continues to misread Black life. He is the novel’s bridge—between past and present, science and art, love and loss.

Personality & Traits

Theo’s mind is exacting and humane. Raised by diplomats to center courtesy and principle, he meets a prejudiced world with self-command, transmuting private anger into ethical action and careful analysis. His restraint is not passivity; it is a discipline that helps him see art—and people—with uncommon clarity.

• Intellectual and curious: He interrogates both artworks and his own scholarly voice, pushing past jargon toward human truth. Evidence: his self-edit—“No. Nup. That wouldn’t do. It reeked of PhD.”—reveals a commitment to accessibility and rigor.
• Principled and kind: He helps a hostile neighbor, lifts heavy boxes, and insists on returning a now-valuable painting because it’s right, not convenient. His line—“Whatever she might be, it doesn’t mean that I won't do what I know to be right.”—captures his moral spine.
• Observant and perceptive: He recognizes the discarded painting’s quality instantly and discerns the dignity in Edward Troye’s portraits of enslaved horsemen that many viewers overlook.
• Guarded and world-weary: Schooled by global experience and racism in elite polo, he contains a “usual gust of anger,” consciously reframing incidents—“Just a White woman, White-womaning.”—to keep control while registering harm.
• Loyal and affectionate: His bond with Clancy is tender and constant; the dog anchors him to memories of riding with his father in Australia and reveals the warmth beneath his reserve.

Character Journey

Theo begins as a disciplined scholar of British art, but the salvaged Lexington painting reorients his research and his life. At the American Art Museum study center, Edward Troye’s work—especially the portrait of Harry Lewis—shatters the distance of academia, compelling Theo toward the Hidden Histories and Erased Narratives of Black horsemen whose presence has been minimized or stripped from the archive. His partnership with Jess deepens this shift: together they fuse evidence from canvas and bone, reconstructing a life story across disciplines.

The moral decisions that follow—most notably returning the painting to his neighbor—show Theo translating scholarship into integrity. His arc culminates in an act of everyday compassion that exposes a lethal social truth: while aiding an injured white woman in Rock Creek Park, he is misread by a police officer and killed when he raises his phone to block glare. Theo’s death renders the book’s sharpest verdict on Race, Slavery, and Systemic Racism: the very society that benefits from his intellect and kindness refuses to see him clearly, collapsing his humanity into a stereotype with fatal speed. His interrupted project echoes Jarret’s silenced freedoms, insisting that the past’s injustices persist in altered form.

Key Relationships

• Jess: Their connection begins awkwardly—misread intentions on the street, matching bikes—but at the Smithsonian Support Center they realize their subjects are the same horse, Lexington. Jess’s scientific meticulousness complements Theo’s art-historical eye, and their romance becomes a partnership in repair: of archives, of narratives, and of trust. She challenges him (especially over returning the painting), helping him risk vulnerability without abandoning his principles.

• Clancy: The kelpie is Theo’s confidant and emotional ballast. Clancy’s presence softens Theo’s guarded edges, evoking the joy of his Australian childhood and horsemanship with his father—and making the novel’s final moments more piercing, as the dog’s howl becomes a witness to loss.

• His parents (Abiona and Theo’s father): His late father embodies warmth and wonder, a source of equestrian passion and gentle authority; his mother, Abiona, represents exacting standards and diplomatic poise. Together, they instill the manners and moral clarity that shape Theo’s choices, even when those choices put him at odds with pragmatic self-protection.

• Daniel: As Theo’s best friend from Yale, Daniel is both confidant and cautionary voice about American racial realities. He urges vigilance that Theo, committed to acting “right,” sometimes underestimates—making Daniel’s warnings a tragic counterpoint to Theo’s fate.

Defining Moments

Theo’s path is marked by decisions that reveal who he is—and by a final misrecognition that reveals the world he lives in.

• Finding the painting: While helping a bigoted neighbor after her husband’s death, he rescues a horse painting from the trash. Why it matters: His kindness catalyzes the entire modern narrative and frames scholarship as an ethical, not merely academic, pursuit.
• Encounter with Edward Troye: In the study center, he confronts Troye’s portraits, including the trainer with Viley’s horses, and recognizes the subjects’ dignity. Why it matters: This moment detonates his thesis and redirects him toward a recovery of erased Black expertise and presence.
• Meeting Jess: Their initially tense bike encounter gives way to collaboration once Lexington links their work. Why it matters: Their partnership models the novel’s central method—interdisciplinary reconstruction of lost histories—and anchors the story emotionally.
• Returning the painting: Against advice, he chooses principle over profit or convenience. Why it matters: It crystallizes his code: justice isn’t situational. The act also exposes how ethical clarity can carry personal risk in a prejudiced society.
• The final run: He stops to help an injured white woman; a police officer misreads the scene; Theo lifts his phone to shade his eyes—and is shot. Why it matters: The climax collapses the gap between past and present violence, proving that social “mis-seeing” remains deadly.

Essential Quotes

No. Nup. That wouldn’t do. It reeked of PhD. This was meant to be read by normal people.

Theo’s inner edit dramatizes his resistance to academic gatekeeping. He wants scholarship to restore human lives to view, not to hide them behind jargon—an ethos that shapes his turn toward public, reparative history.

As Theo came up behind her and reached out to take the cart, her head shot up, alarmed. Her knuckles whitened on the handle, as if she expected it to be wrenched from her grasp. Theo felt the usual gust of anger and took a deep breath. Just a White woman, White-womaning.

The scene captures the daily choreography of racial perception and self-control. Theo’s phrase is wry but weary, showing how he metabolizes microaggression into calm—without denying the harm it does.

He gazed once more at the trainer. “Harry? Charles? Lew?” he whispered. “I don’t know who you are, but if I can find out, I will.”

A vow of attention becomes a mission statement. Theo’s whisper acknowledges the subjects’ personhood and commits him to the difficult labor of identification—precisely the work of countering erasure.

"Whatever she might be, it doesn’t mean that I won't do what I know to be right."

Here, principle trumps resentment. Theo refuses to let another’s bigotry dictate his ethics, insisting that right action is self-defining, not reactive.

Theo lifted his cell phone to shade his eyes from the glare. And then Clancy’s thin howl, shearing the night.

The syntax enacts the misrecognition: an ordinary gesture becomes fatal, and a dog’s grief becomes the only testimony left. The image indicts a system where perception is weaponized and a life like Theo’s can be ended in a blink.