Note: this review is for the Audible version read by Alfred Molina. While that doesn’t necessarily affect the content, there is obviously a different experience between listening to a wonderful voice through your headphones and reading 624 pages. Long either way, but still a different experience.

I’ve mentioned before that this one has been on my read list for about 8 years now. I got it after listening to the Steve Jobs biography, also by Isaacson, having been taken with the writing style and thinking that biographies might be for me after all. I think I lasted about half an hour before realising that it probably wasn’t smart to follow a 27 hour audiobook with a 17 hour one; burn out is real.

I’m glad I didn’t return it though, because it’s easily one of the best books I’ve read for a while. It’s by no means an academic level historical review of his life; at several points Isaacson will discuss various theories about a painting or a relationship before offering his own non-expert opinion, so if you’re looking for a definitive article, this ain’t it.

What it is though is a fascinating view of the life and work of one of history’s most famous polymaths. It follows his life from being raised as an illegitimate son of a notary and his apprenticeship under Verrocchio, to his various times spent in Florence, Milan, Rome, and ultimately France. Along the way, Isaacson covers notes and background on his most prominent works, culminating in the seminal Mona Lisa, but also the various works and commissions he started but failed to complete.

The latter point if part of what really interested me along the way though: the way Da Vinci worked. Isaacson regularly reviews and quotes from the many, many notebooks Da Vinci left behind, covering his famous to-do lists, to observations he made of nature and anatomy and how he applied them to his art (like noting how the muscles of the face worked and applied to facial expressions), to the personal notes he left, including arguments with his young apprentice/partner, Salai.

He doesn’t just talk about genius, but of Da Vinci’s inherent curiosity he held towards all things and his pursuit of that knowledge, however controversial or heretical it may have been at the time. Rather than being fully irreverent to his legendary status, Isaacson humanises Da Vinci, pointing out his distracted nature, more inclined to procrastination and flights of fancy than intense focus. From dropped projects, to enquiries leading to nowhere, to even his eventual disinterest in the thing he’s most famous for, his paintings, compared to his quest for the answers to the universe, all in the aim of slaking his curiosity.

Again, if you want an academic text on the life and work of Leonardo Da Vinci, it probably shouldn’t surprise you that a New York Times bestseller isn’t for you. As a pop-history book though, I highly recommend it. For me personally, it’s really helped reinforce something I’ve been trying to convince myself of for some time: to actually engage in my curiosity, to try and learn and widen the scope of my knowledge, rather than convince myself that it’s pointless, or I won’t have time.

So on a personal level, 10/10.