A jack of just how many trades?

I don’t often take book recommendations. I think far too highly of my own guiding interests. But a few months ago my in-laws insisted I read Irving Stone’s 1961 novel The Agony and the Ecstasy. Perhaps Stone’s most famous biographical novel, it tells the story of Michelangelo Buonarroti and his endless ups and downs navigating the artistic and political worlds of the Renaissance.

It’s a wonderful story. The characters and artwork come to life, as does Michelangelo’s illuminating theological journey. I’m not sure about the book’s reputation as an accurate portrayal of history, but it did tap into the single question I agonize about most in life: Is it better to become great at one thing? Or pretty decent at a number of things?

Heading into the book I had this concept of the Renaissance man, the DaVinci type who excels in a number of fields. The idea was to become well rounded, holistic, complete—the Renaissance ideal. But Michelangelo’s desires disrupted this notion. He had only one thing on his mind: sculpture. Political and economic necessity forced him into ironwork and painting, most famously with the Sistine Chapel. He did this begrudgingly; it was his agony. All he wanted was to do one thing, and to do it better than anyone else ever had.