G. K. Chesterton Books

This is one of my favorite books by Chesterton. He relates the dangers of Big Business and Big Government. The amazing thing is the way the Big Business argument has withstood the test of time.
Most importantly it is Chesterton, get it, enjoy it, love it.

At least as far as the ones I have read (several).

Chesterton's short essays in this book can be read almost independently with much satisfaction. The world has changed a bit since the early 1900's but it is astonishing how prescient this work truly is. It might be hard for modern readers to realize how different the current issues of poverty are from those of his day and the forces that contribute to it are focused in different areas, but the fundamental analysis is impeccable.

What Chesterton does beyond all comparison is foundational thinking. His wit and paradoxical prose force the reader to consider problems from an entirely different perspective. In this sense Chesterton truly is a revolutionary conservative. When he asks if it is possible to "set back the clock" we suddenly discover that he is dead serious and that it is a very desirable thing to do.

All in all, this is a non-religious book and a good introduction to Chesterton's work. He keeps the sermons to an absolute minimum and makes an awful lot of sense.

Chesterton was undoubtably a genius. I am certain that this book has great value and meaning but I found it beyond my ability to dig it out. The language is full of idoms and references from late nineteenth and early twentieth century England which I could not comprehend without tremendous effort. I gave up on it. I suppose this is more of a reflexion of myself than Chesterton.

I think the collection of essays are generally well written, but there are some issues. Before I start, yes; I know WWWtW was written nearly 100 years ago for a primarily British audience. There are parallels with today's culture, but the book was written for quite a different population facing similar evils.

This may be petty, but the use of the "n" word really bothered me. I know Chesterton was a wordsmith, and was not a racist, but the use of that word really offended me. I know...different age and different culture, but I live in 21st century New York, not 20th century England. Is the use of the word meant to be offensive? I don't believe offense was Chesterton's motive. Chesterton even calls poor East Enders "guttersnipes", but this is his way of wordsmithing and even here the euphemism is not meant to be offensive, but clever. However, in spite of Chesterton's love of euphemisms and cleverness, I find the "n" word to be a huge stumbling block.

Chesterton's idea of the fundamental difference among the sexes is accurate. However, the whole objection to women not voting is rather unsettling. I know...different age and different culture, but it still bothers me. However, the notion of the Industrial and Post Industrial age forcing women into the workplace so that families can survive is an acute assessment.

What's not to like about Hudge and Gudge?

I think Chesterton is the Epitome of an age long since past. He chose not to pursue formal education, but the man was a generalist, and that suited him. There are too many specialists in the world, with large student loan debts, who cannot figure out why pulling on a push door will not open the door. If we had more Chestertons, I think the world would be a better place; there is always the need for generalists in a specialized world.

This is a wonderful edition of What's Wrong With the World. If you have read much of Chesterton's social commentary or essay work, you know that he makes many allusions to people, places, and ideas that were common to him in the early part of the 20th Century. Ignatius Press did a great job footnoting many of these references, which makes this amazing work of Chesterton's much more accessible to the common man, whom he loved so much.

The heading is a joke, by the way. I will say that when compared with abortion and some of the other big science/big brother things going on in the present, early 20th century Eugenics does seem almost quaint.
As for the work itself, it is bright and clever and witty as noted by many reviewers here, but give me C.S. Lewis any day for a novel. Chesterton also bashes Calvinists a bit, and as a Calvinist I think he is a bit misguided on this point. Maybe we're not a laugh a minute but I don't think we're the sorry example of Christianity he purports us to be.
Much of the book is edited, and I really like the editor's observations. I had a few quibbles though, he says 'woe' one place where he means 'woo', stuff like that. I guess if you're the editor you still need someone to edit you. Again, a quibble, but that combined with the anachronistic quality of the subject gave it a less than polished feel.
Still, I would recommend this book as a glimpse into what inspired C.S. Lewis' space trilogy as well as for a raw view into what goes on when government decides they know what is best for you.

Nothing by G.K. Chesterton is ever disappointing, but this is/was downright prophetic. It's a must read for all who seek a better understanding of the negative utopian forces and their politically correct power at work in society today.

It helps to explain historically how one politically correct slippery slope can and has led to another, (within public accepted opinion and mores), and the real and present danger of dismissing the amoral indifference toward human life of the left and some members of the right. It argues against a religion of science and/or government, of any man being bright, wise, trustworthy, enough to determine who has reproductive "rights," for others.

Since any argument against anything is an argument pro something, or some things, this is an argument pro human dignity, the value of life, the dignity and rights of family, the rights of man to be free from the tyranny of science and government "elitists," who deem themselves to be "supermen" and everyone else to be subjects under their rule.

Eugenics is a GREAT EVIL. Margaret Sanger, the founder of Planned Parent Hood, was associated with Adolph Hitler. She wanted birth control for only people of color, the poor and the catholics. When the Holocost came up front, they pulled back. But, the philosophy hasn't changed. They are fighting to export abortion to foreign countrys. I really think that we really need to wake up. We have professors that think we should kill babys born with Down's Syndrom and Spina Bifida. This is after they are born. What more do we need to know? Pax

For a collection of essays written prior to the first World War, Chesterton may have been addressing a modern audience rather than his contemporary one; yet anyone who has read Chesterton could say that regarding any number of his books. True, this book was published after WWI, much of it was written as a response to what Eugenicists were asserting at the time. A note for the editor: have the copy proofread prior to publishing. There are many errors which ought to have been caught before printing. The idea of re-printing the Eugenic articles is a novel idea.

On a final note, much of the eugenic ideal has been absorbed into modern thinking. The hate has been better disguised, but the hateful ideas are well incorporated into the fabric of modern life.

I'm a brazilian(unemployed) agronomist.I read this good book free on internet.This is a good book.
When this good book was writen, eugenics was supported by great scholars,famous politics, famous doctors(Dr. Morris Fishbein, the AMA's President), famous americans presidents,etc.
Against all of these stooges, came Gilbert K. Chesterton, a writer catholic man.
After all, Roman Catholic Church and G. K. Chesterton were right about eugenics.
After nazism, eugenics became so ridiculous, that now, eugenics has a new name:Ecology.

"The Flying Inn" is neither Chesterton's best novel nor his worst. It is not his funniest novel, but it may be the one that hits the widest variety of topics. One might summarize the plot of "The Flying Inn" (two lovable rogues run around with a keg of rum after alcohol is outlawed in England), but that would be like saying that "The Odyssey" is about a guy on a boat. The best I can do is to say that "The Flying Inn" is a travelogue. For a certainty, Captain Dalroy and Humphrey Pump are involved in a real battle against England's enemies, both external (Islam) and internal (rich people). But on their march to war, they have plenty of time to sit back with a cup of ale, sing a drinking song or two, and enjoy life. And also to take some swipes at the irksome facets of modernity, such as timid newspapers and non-rhyming poetry.

"The Flying Inn" sells itself. Anyone who's read and loved Chesterton will have to pick it up, and anyone who reads the first few chapters will be hooked. There's nothing more I can say to encourage you to read it. I will say that Chesterton's fiction supports his non-fiction, and vice versa. Read his essays and you'll better understand the themes of his novels. Read the novels and you'll see the ideas behind the eassys presented in all their glory. You really can't get enough of this guy, but "The Flying Inn" comes close.

Even fans of Chesterton's fiction like Martin Gardner have reservations about this story. It's not subtitled "a nightmare" as is The Man Who Was Thursday, but in some ways it is, moreso than Thursday. Written as a serial, it's full of short bits, laced with slapstick and undisguisedly attacks GKC's favorite hobby horses.

But there's method to his madness, and by the end it almost seems like a different book. Along the way, parts of it are almost non-fiction. For instance, the text is sprinkled with light-hearted poems, such as Song of Quoodle, ostensibly about a dog, but likely about something else. There's also a line "cocoa is a cad" which GKC reveals in his autobiography referred to Cadbury's chocolate, GKC at once expressing his preference for beer and making a political point.

The beginning of this book seemed to me so odd that I just kept reading without trying to figure it out. Some ninety years after he wrote it (1914) this story seems prescient. One asks oneself what about Victorian England could inspire a tale that so resonates with the changing world of today.

The plot initially seemed to me rather thin, but, as I ought to have known, it was merely a tributary of the real plot. "Flying" in the title means "moving", and the Inn consists solely of a wheel of cheese and a keg of beer. From that Chesterton not only weaves a light-hearted and entrancing story, but also makes salient points about what is really important. All of which made me want to fly into the local inn and raise a toast to GKC.

Chesterton produced yet another masterpiece in The Flying Inn, which describes the state of England after it's political leaders begin to merge with Islamic philosophy in an attempt to unify the two cultures. Chesterton does a fantastic job of showing how the ideals of Islam and the Christian West are quite opposite, and how Islam destroys a culture. As previous reviewers have noted, Chesterton is not the least bit worried about being politically correct, and has no qualms about showing the inferiority of the Islamic religion.

In addition to deep philosophical and theological discussions intersperced througout the book, Chesterton provides many, many very humerous scenes and conversations as well. The whole story is centered around a pub-owner and a sailor/Naval officer who travel around England with a barrel of rum and a wheel of cheese (the sale of alcohal had been banned under the new government) which pass out to citizens to keep up the spirits of the common man. They are chased all over the country by the police, always managing to stay a step ahead through a hilarous sequence of events. He includes a number of drinking songs in this book, all of which are very fun to read and had me laughing.

This is definitely a book worth reading. It's probably hard to find, but it's worth the effort.

Overall grade: A

"The Flying Inn," first published in 1914, is a toned-down science-fiction novel by Chesterton in which (a then-future) England is taken over by an aggressive form of Islam, and Christians are pretty much on the run. The story centers around the hijinks of the screwball duo, Humphrey Pump and Captain Dalroy, as they make their way around England trying to avoid the new Prohibition.

I know what you're thinking: What a great idea! I think I'll read it, since that's kinda sorta what's happening today, right? Should be engrossing!

Alas! The whole thing is a dreary waste of time. Chesterton, despite his reputation, knows precious little about Islam (other than that in it you're not supposed to drink and sing songs, and you can marry more than one woman).

For example, all the women in the now supposedly-Muslim England don't have to veil (there is no mention whatsoever of the veil), not to mention prayer call, Sharia, dhimmitude, jihad, Jew-hatred, or sectarian strife. If Chesterton had done a little research (or traveled much in Muslim countries), he would certainly have explored these possibilities in a much more relevant and informed way.

Unfortunately, in the author's mind, Islam appears (!) to have been an almost perfect substitute for Christianity, with the exception that there is to be no beer or songs. Hence most of the novel centers around the efforts of his main characters to reassert their Englishness by drinking and singing for pages on end. Like I said, a total waste of your time.

As if that wasn't enough, it's not a very good novel, even on its own terms. The characters are not sketched memorably, an elliptical treatment of the backstory severs your emotional connection to the plot, and the whole thing is far too stiff and wordy.

In all, the thing has nowhere near the relevance, humor, and power that its premise might suggest to the modern reader.

Don't believe those other reviews: anybody who had actually read it wouldn't recommend it. The book is deservedly obscure.

(A cracking good read by Chesterton is "The Man Who Was Thursday," although that has nothing to do with Islam.)

The Flying Inn defied many of my expectations of the book, but is imbued with Chesteron and his many unique prophetic touches. Throughout, the story is a meandering dash of unlikely heroes, pitted against all the forces of "modern" society. In this respect, the book is a clear precursor to CS Lewis' "That Hideous Strength", and bears a great deal of similarity to Chesterton's "The Ball & The Cross". From the standpoint of the characters and the plot, "The Flying Inn" is hilarious. I read it on the airplane and caught myself laughing out loud.

But then there is the tragic component of the story, which is that the prophetic vein has proven all too true. Certainly the west never embraced and incorporated Islam to the extent that Chesterton portrays - the temperance movement is quiescent for the moment, and although everything from fast food to meat is under assault from the nanny state, the attack doesn't bear the hallmarks of a crypto-islamic ethic.

But, Chesterton accurately portrays the weakness of the West as it abandons its underlying moral strength as it abandons Christianity, leaving it at the mercy of societies in which self-hatred and tolerance are not treated as virtues. There is a strong Chesterbelloc tone to the book - Hillaire Belloc's catalog of the enemies of the Church are well represented. Indeed, "The Flying Inn" demonstrates Chesteron's gift at immortalizing concepts, where Belloc's more lucid expositions are dated and flat.

Where Chesteron's "The Ball & The Cross" illustrates a dystopia of modernism and apathy, "The Flying Inn" illustrates a dystopia of oligarchic cultural relativism. And it is just such an assault that has rendered the West so vulnerable to the current assault by Islam - an assault not by violence and conquest (despite the activities of terrorists), but an assault of belief and energy. Muslim immigration has transformed Europe, and outside of England and Poland, there is little resistance left in the weak old secular dominions. Chesterton's world is coming to pass - the green banners of "the prophet" fly ever more freely in Europe.

And yet, despite the enormity of both the portrayal and realization of the death of a great civilization, Chesterton's romping tale leaves you hopeful and cheerful. Ultimately, Merrie England and its children will have the final laugh - precisely because we CAN laugh, and our enemies cannot.

This, to me, is a good example of a book that is primarily premise. The idea of London being broken up into little city states is amusing, but Chesterton doesn't do enough with the comic possibilities. It was difficult for me to enjoy this book, while constantly being reminded of "Passport to Pimlico," a much more whimsical take on the notion.

G.K. Chesterton has seen the future of men.
Auberon Quin, a man who takes nothing seriously. He is chosen as a leader that runs his country as a joke.
Mr. Buck, a man who takes himself too seriously. He accepts Quin's eccentric leadership as long as it doesn't stand in the way of progress.
Adam Wayne, a man who takes everything and everybody (except himself) too seriously. He believes Quin's way of the world is not a joke, but romantic and truthful. He fights for it with all his might!
These men help take the reader on an adventure of exploration of our life, our actions & our deepest beliefs. And what's more ?
-- a defense of our sense of "home" and our sense of "humor"!

This short book, The Napoleon of Notting Hill, written 100 years ago, is a futuristic fantasy, a political satire, a prophetic tale, and a comic novel, all intertwined. Published in 1904, The Napoleon of Notting Hill was G. K. Chesterton's first novel. It has been called the best first novel by any author in the twentieth century.

It has been some years since my first reading of The Napoleon of Notting Hill. Once again I find it to be enjoyable, humorous, highly entertaining, and decidedly thought provoking.

The setting is London in the year 1984, 80 years in the future. Chesterton had tired of endless predictions of futuristic technologies. His future London is identical to Edwardian London - all technological advance halted in 1904. One change is notable: the people have lost faith in political revolutions. Only slow, gradual change, akin to Darwinian evolution, was fashionable. No one was interested in voting, and consequently, democracy had withered away. A ruling monarch, a king, was selected in some capricious, random manner from the governmental class. All was well until Auberon Quin was chosen to rule as king.

As a lark, the new King designs colorful, medieval style uniforms, required dress for all governmental representatives of the London boroughs on official occasions. Reluctantly, city officials comply with the king's ridiculous wish to revitalize local patriotism. Unexpectedly, the Provost of Notting Hill, a sober young man named Adam Wayne, a man without humor, takes the King's command seriously. An attempt by other London boroughs to route a major thoroughfare through Notting Hill leads not only to acrimony, but to actual warfare.

The first chapter is Chesterton's scholarly criticism and friendly ridicule of contemporary (that is, early 1900) prophecies of scientific and technological changes, especially the more utopian futuristic projections, and is titled Introductory Remarks on the Art of Prophecy. The actual story does not commence until chapter two.

This inexpensive Dover edition includes a lengthy, interesting introduction by Martin Gardner. The artist W. Graham Robertson penned seven full page ink drawings and a map of the seat of the war.

The theme of the Napoleon of Nottingham Hill is that it is better to live a short exciting life than a long boring one. GKC would argue that the moment when you are most lucid and the world is convinced that you are mad is exactly when you are the most sane. The Napoleon of Nottingham Hill is the story of how an irrational war among London's suburbs finally gives meaning to the lives of moderns who have become so board with living. The book also explains what humor is and how man can stand proud without sinning. If you read one book by GKC, let it be this book.

Not Chesterton's best work, this quirky debut novel is still a must-read for anyone who appreciates the "Prince of Paradox" and his quirky sense of humor. It begins with a humorous overview of some of the more ridiculous social theorists of the day. (Science fiction fans will surely get a kick from a brief mention of H. G. Wells and his far-fetched visions.) Then we observe London society in 1984, changed very little from the early twentieth century, because the drudgery of capitalism and bureaucracy have worn down the human spirit to the point where it can barely stand. When a pint-sized clerk named Auberon Quinn ius randomly selected as head of state, he decides to turn London into a mideival carnival for his own amusement.

One man, Adam Wayne, takes the order to heart. He sets out to organize the neighborhood of Notting Hill, drafting an army to fight invaders from other streets who are trying to run over his corner of London. At first Wayne's behavior baffles everyone, but eventually his dedication to the cause proves infectious, with delightful results. At a thin 174 pages (including illustrations), the story goes by in a flash. Comedy galore, along with plenty of offbeat characters and bizarre unfolding events.

As I said, it's not Chesterton's best book. The writing is somewhat rough, particularly in two large leaps of time between chapters. Moreover the characters are abusrd in ways that don't add up too much; the brilliance of later works like "The Man who Was Thursday" and "The Club of Queer Trades" is that everyone's behavior makes perfect sense in the context of the story. But "The Napoloen of Notting Hill" is still well worth reading.

For a book that's as short as this one, "The Man Who Was Thursday" is pretty packed.

G.K. Chesterton's classic novella tackles anarchy, social order, God, peace, war, religion, human nature, and a few dozen other weight concepts. And somehow he manages to mash it all together into a delightful satire, full of tongue-in-cheek commentary that is still relevant today.

As the book opens, Gabriel Symes is debating with a soapbox anarchist. The two men impress each other enough that the anarchist introduces Symes to a seven-man council of anarchists, all named after days of the week. In short order, they elect Symes their newest member -- Thursday.

But they don't know that he's also been recruited by an anti-anarchy organization. And soon Symes finds out that he's not the only person on the council who is not what he seems. There are other spies and double-agents, working for the same cause. But who -- and what -- is the jovial, powerful Mr. Sunday, the head of the organization?

Hot air balloons, elaborate disguises, duels and police chases -- Chesterton certainly knew how to keep this novel interesting. Though written almost a century ago, "The Man Who Was Thursday" still feels very fresh. That's partly because of Chesterton's cheery writing... and partly because it's such an intelligent book.

He doesn't avoid some timeless topics that make some people squirm. Humanity (good and bad), anarchy, religion and its place in human nature, and creation versus destruction all get tackled here -- disguised as a comic police investigation. And unlike most satires, it isn't dated; the topics are reflections of humanity and religion, so they're as relevant now as they were in 1908.

But the story isn't pedantic or boring; Chesterton keeps things lively by having his characters act like real people, rather than mouthpieces. From Symes to the Colonel to the mysterious Sunday himself, they all have a sort of friendly, energetic quality. "We're all spies! Come and have a drink!" one of the characters announces cheerfully near the end.

And of course, once the madcap police investigations are finished, there's still a mystery. Who is Sunday? What are his goals? And for that matter, WHAT is Sunday -- genius, force of nature, villain or god? The answer is a bit of a surprise, and as a reflection of Chesterton's beliefs, it's a delicate, intelligent piece of work.

And what of Martin Gardner's annotations? Well, they vary in usefulness -- sometimes he adds to your understanding of Chesterton's interests and possible intentions, and sometimes he goes off in rambling tangents that choke the original text.

"The Man Who Was Thursday" is a wacky, literate little satire that will both amuse and educate you. Not bad for a book often subtitled "A Nightmare."

The obvious (and probably most common) comparison is to Joseph Conrad's "The Secret Agent." Both explore anarchy and revolution and have at their centers double agents. In many ways, though, the two works don't compare. Conrad's work is much darker; his London is infinitely bleaker and grosser than Chesterton's. Indeed, Conrad spends much more time describing his settings and creating the dark mood. Moreover, Conrad is more concerned than Chesterton with the psychological motivations underlying anarchy. These are not at all shortcomings in Chesterton's brilliant work; the two writers, each excellent in their own ways, simply focused on different things and had different goals and lessons to teach.

On its surface, "The Man Who Was Thursday" is the tale of a detective who infiltrates the inner circle of a group of anarchists and assumes a position on its board, whose seven members all bear names of days of the week. Syme, the detective, is Thursday; the mysterious, enigmatic leader is Sunday. Much of the fun of this book is in the twists and turns, so I won't give anything away. Some of the surprises (or revelation) are predictable, but many are not, and one typically builds on all the rest--keeping even the most predictable of them fresh and intriguing. At a deeper level, Chesterton explores the nature of good and evil, of fate and free will, of order and chaos, and also of faith. Indeed, Chesterton's vision of Christianity penetrates his work, sometimes explicitly (particularly the concluding chapters) and often implicitly and more symbolically. It underlies much of the book.

"Thursday" is a difficult book to understand, and the allegory is not easy to see or decipher. This is certainly a book that deserves many re-readings. On this note, Martin Gardner's introduction and notes provide a great framework for beginning to penetrate the book's deeper meanings. Moreover, his descriptions of the relevant geography and landmarks of London prove both helpful and fascinating.

This is a true masterpiece, unfortunately overlooked by far too many who have never heard of Chesterton or who don't know he wrote excellent fiction in addition to his fine Christian apologetics. Anyone stands to profit from reading "The Man Who Was Thursday." And this edition only enhances the experience.

If you have never read this book, DO IT NOW! And buy this copy. For just a little more than the paperback, you get Gardner's notes which help to shed some light on the neighborhoods of London and Chesterton's story. I was not familiar with the layout of London and his annotations gave some interesting facts and tidbits. Also, this is a hard text to tackle and Gardner's thoughts help introduce new ways to understand Chesterton's work.

Definition is impossible : The Man Who was Thursday is not quite a political bad dream, nor a metaphysical thriller, nor a cosmic joke in the form of a spy novel, but it is something of all three. What it has most of is a boys' adventure story, which might help to explain my early excitement but not so much my continuing devotion. And what a title! I will not divulge its meaning here, but I cannot resist saying that anybody who at the sight of it does not feel a faint tingle of excitement and a breath of wonder is not really a fit person to be reading the book. -Kingsley Amis, Introduction to the Penguin Twentieth-Century Classics version

G. K. Chesterton's classic novel manages to provide a thriller that starts out like a Sherlock Holmes adventure and ends like Raiders of the Lost Ark, while at the same time offering a profound contemplation of the existence of evil in the world, the role of free will in the universe, the willingness of God to allow Man to suffer, and various other vexing metaphysical questions. Both the basic story and the religious philosophy are exciting, and though generations of readers have complained that the final chapter is too difficult to follow, the Annotated version has explanatory essays by Martin Gardner and there's an excellent essay of his available online, which do a great job of explaining just what Chesterton is up to. It is very much a Christian fantasy (or "Nightmare" to use Chesterton's own subtitle) but can be read with enjoyment by anyone who loves a good adventure yarn and doesn't mind being made to think.

GRADE : A-

I feel a little deflated after completing "The Man Who Was Thursday." I would like to be able to imagine what it would have been like to read this book when it was first printed, before having Gardner & Chesterton explain the meaning of the "Sunday" character. Not that I would have figured it out on my own...

If you haven't read TMWWT before, I suggest you skip over Gardner's introduction and dive right in. Then go back and read Gardner's introduction and afterword to see if you've caught Chesterton's meaning. Granted, the text of the book doesn't go to any lengths to make its allusions unmistakable. Without Gardner and Chesterton's explanations, I believe you could take Sunday about any way you liked, somewhat like the Old Monk Michael in "The Ball and the Cross".

While the foreword and afterword are thorough and interesting, Gardner's annotations through the text are a bit of a mixed bag. Sometimes he rambles on over two pages of footnotes, bringing in ancillary details about London notables who lived near the setting of the action. Other times he waxes eloquent about scientific principles tangentially related to Chesterton's story. While many of his footnotes are exceedingly helpful, others are just weird. It appears, for example, that Gardner is a big Sherlock Holmes fan, given the relatively large presence that Holmes has in the footnotes.

Anyway - a great book with a worthy annotation.

To the text widely considered to be Chesterton's masterpiece, Martin Gardner (who has also provided notes for Alice in Wonderland among others, along with writing widely on mathematical puzzles) adds helpful explanatory notes. The book also includes illustrations, some more helpful than others. While Gardner's notes are valuable, some elements perhaps deserving of a note do not receive one (for instance, a line of Old French from the Song of Roland). Gardner's introduction advances his (persuasive) reading of Thursday, which along with the notes makes this volume interesting, engaging and especially helpful for those teaching Thursday

This novel is very eccentric, strange and unclassifiable. As Kingsley Amis says in the introduction, it is a mix between political nightmare, metaphysical thriller, and cosmic joke in the shape of a spies' novel. Turns out there is, apparently, a secret anarchist movement set to destroy the world. There is, also, a "philosophical police" whose end is to inflitrate and tear apart the movement. Gabriel Syme, a young poet-policeman, manages to infiltrate and be chosen as "Thursday" (the Central Committee is composed of seven guys, each one code-named a day of the week). There is much to give away, so I'll just say that little by little, after a series of impossible, fantastic, and terrifying adventures, Syme discovers the secret of the sect. More than the plot, though, what is remarkable about this book is the mixture of British wit and the capacity for paradox, with profound (but never pedantic) reflections on the stupidity, simpleness and perversity of anarchism and terrorism. What starts as a somewhat conventional novels develops into a fast and crazed journey throught the abysses of fanaticism and the limits of reason. Full with images reminding of fantasies like Bulgakov's "The Master and Margarita", the novel eventually resembles the nightmares we all have, but that only a genius like Chesterton manages to remember, record and illustrate. It is seldom that you can accurately use the term "hallucinating" to depict a novel, and this one certainly deserves it.

The man in the dark who hired Syme was huge. Syme, even though he couldn't see a thing, knew that the speaker was of massive proportions.

Then, at the first council breakfast, we see that Sunday is a big big man, too big for the balcony. At that moment we know that the two men are one and the same. So, Syme's and others' continuing wonders of who Sunday is or who the man who hired them is comes across as childish. We suspect it, why can't they?

Also, after the first "spy" we know that all of them will turn out to be police officers, so that was a little tiresome too.

But, I really enjoyed some scenes. For instance, Syme's anticipated dialogue with the Marquis:

'Has it by any chance occurred to you,' asked the Professor, with a ponderous simplicity, 'that the Marquis may not say all the forty-three things you have put down for him?'

Connection to current events: The police (symbolizing all the ruling powers) is as ridiculous as the terrorists. In fact, in the book there are no anarchists, except maybe for Gregory (that poor man, I felt so sorry for him). I am thinking that maybe we can adapt the moral of the story to the current paranoia. We started to think that everyone might be a terrorist. London police killed an innocent man mistaking him for a terrorist.

The silliness of the police also reminded me a little of a certain president, how he must have felt after going to war to find weapons of mass destruction and then admitting that there never was any.

Lale

This was a pretty good book, as others have attested. My beef is with the worthless annotations. Actually, they are less than worthless because they contain major plot spoilers. As far as I can tell, the notes break down as follows:

40% Numerous descriptions of London streets, neighborhoods that have absolutely no bearing on the plot and can easily be obtained on the Web by anyone who really cares about things like exactly where Charing Cross is and what kinds of shops it has in it.

35% Irrelevant literary cross-references that have no bearing on the work's plot or themes. These are most likely to occur when the annotator is reminded of some poem from the same period from another one of his books, and wants to speculate on whether Chesterton might have read it.

17% Corrections of Chesterton's own quotes and allusions, which apparently he did mostly from memory and so misses a word or two here and there

3% plot spoilers.

5% I guess were sort of useful, though the annotater is so pretentious it's hard to admit. But you should avoid reading them, because you never know which ones might be plot spoilers.

I would also comments that most of the cultural references that actually caused me to pause and question the text were not footnoted.

In his defense, I will say that the annotator provides a fairly good introduction. But don't read it until after you've read the book (more spoilers).

For a book that's as short as this one is, "The Man Who Was Thursday" is pretty packed.

G.K. Chesterton's classic novella tackles anarchy, social order, God, peace, war, religion, human nature, and a few dozen other weight concepts. And somehow he manages to mash it all together into a delightful satire, full of tongue-in-cheek commentary that is still relevant today.

As the book opens, Gabriel Symes is debating with a soapbox anarchist. The two men impress each other enough that the anarchist introduces Symes to a seven-man council of anarchists, all named after days of the week. In short order, they elect Symes their newest member -- Thursday.

But they don't know that he's also been recruited by an anti-anarchy organization. And soon Symes finds out that he's not the only person on the council who is not what he seems. There are other spies and double-agents, working for the same cause. But who -- and what -- is the jovial, powerful Mr. Sunday, the head of the organization?

Hot air balloons, elaborate disguises, duels and police chases -- Chesterton certainly knew how to keep this novel interesting. Though written almost a century ago, "The Man Who Was Thursday" still feels very fresh. That's partly because of Chesterton's cheery writing... and partly because it's such an intelligent book.

He doesn't avoid some timeless topics that make some people squirm. Humanity (good and bad), anarchy, religion and its place in human nature, and creation versus destruction all get tackled here -- disguised as a comic police investigation. And unlike most satires, it isn't dated; the topics are reflections of humanity and religion, so they're as relevant now as they were in 1908.

But the story isn't pedantic or boring; Chesterton keeps things lively by having his characters act like real people, rather than mouthpieces. From Symes to the Colonel to the mysterious Sunday himself, they all have a sort of friendly, energetic quality. "We're all spies! Come and have a drink!" one of the characters announces cheerfully near the end.

And of course, once the madcap police investigations are finished, there's still a mystery. Who is Sunday? What are his goals? And for that matter, WHAT is Sunday -- genius, force of nature, villain or god? The answer is a bit of a surprise, and as a reflection of Chesterton's beliefs, it's a delicate, intelligent piece of work.

"The Man Who Was Thursday" is a wacky little satire that will both amuse and educate you. Not bad for a book often subtitled "A Nightmare."

I do not know if G.K. Chesterton can be matched in all of detective fiction. He combines fascinating plot lines, delicate and humorous characterization, with philosophy, religion, and an intense sensitivity to beauty and to the human spirit. One reads not just for the "knot," but for the discussions and their ideas, the descriptions, and the narrative unveiling of human vices and virtues. And they're fun to read!

I have been trying to recall, but I can't ever remember reading a stranger or more disappointing book than `The Annotated Innocence of Father Brown'. The text itself may be passed over, of course - it is the first collection of Father Brown mysteries by the great Edwardian writer G. K. Chesterton, and they are superb. Luckily they are available in many other editions than this one.

No, the sour note comes from the annotator, elucidator and irritator Martin Gardner. As a devout Carollian, I have owned and treasured his `Annotated Alice" and his `Annotated Snark' for many years, and I consider them absolutely indispensable. But in these Carrollian books he displays none of the cranky egomania he parades in this Chesterton volume.

He begins the edition with a furious tirade against a fellow self-important prig called Owen Edwards, about their conflict over some Chestertonian tidbit which would possibly be of slight interest to eight people in the world, and infuriating to no one. It is a hallmark of certain academics that, although they often take themselves with almost Ciceronian seriousness, they always end up behaving like children fighting over the best marbles.

Gardner also seems to have no concept of the pacing and careful building of suspense necessary in a mystery story, interrupting the action regularly to give us discursive information - for example, that Swinburne once lived in Putney, what `billiard chalk' is, who lived in Hampstead that was fantastically famous, and who Father Christmas is. Most amazingly, he takes a teeny-tiny reference to `Sunny Jim', an old advertising character for cereal flakes, from `The Three Tools of Death', and writes three entire pages of footnotes on Sunny Jim's history, nothing of which has the slightest connection with the Chesterton story and seem merely an excuse for Gardner to show how much more useless effluvia he knows than you do.

Charles Kinbote merely misrepresented the poetry of John Shade in Nabokov's story for his own selfish ends - Gardner seems completely undirected in his attitude towards Chesterton. He alternately gives the impression that G.K. was a deluded Catholic (Gardner himself is proud to tell you, in the introduction, that he is a `creedless philosophical theist' - which means, I think, if it means anything, `someone who is always right about everything and is ever so smug about it'), an admirable Thomist, a genius, a hack, and so on. Granted, Chesterton was many things, perhaps even all of these. But he was a humane and huge and vital man, and Gardner in this book seems like nothing more than one of those little gray fish that attach themselves to enormous sharks and then swim around with them for life, probably telling themselves `Hey look at me! I'm a great big shark!'

If you still like to be aggravated by this particular annotator, get this edition. If you like to read Chesterton, get another book.

I've read a lot of Chesterton in the last year or so, and I guess I have mixed feelings about his work in general and this book in particular. Chesterton provides extraordinarily beautiful word pictures. I feel like taking a trip to England just to see if the real English sky can match a fraction of the descriptions Chesterton gives it. (Smog abatement measures may have made a fair comparison impossible.) Chesterton's love of paradox can be fun, but it may be best to take it in small doses for optimal enjoyment. The Father Brown stories are short enough that the character development suffers in comparison with G.K.'s novels; on the other hand, these stories benefit from omission of some of the more bizarre flights of fancy found in his longer works.

Now for the footnotes. I've been reading Martin Gardner for a long time. As a young boy, I spent many hours in the local library reading and enjoying his columns in archived copies of Scientific American. I must say that I find his footnotes in this book somewhat obtrusive. They seem to give away too much of the plot too early, and are probably, therefore, best for a second reading of the text. Gardner has deep philosophical differences with Chesterton, and although he does a fairly good job of restraining himself, there are occasions when he apparently can't resist giving us his two cents. I found that a little annoying. The footnotes in the Ignatius edition of _The Man Who Knew to Much_ are an example of what I would have preferred in this book.

Anyone who would like to become aquainted with the great Father Brown could do no better than to start with this, the first-published collection of stories about the clerical sleuth. It has two of my all-time favorites - "The Hammer of God" and "The Eye of Apollo". These are two stories that will boggle the mind with their incredible plot twists. "The Blue Cross" was the first Father Brown story ever published, and it shows Flambeau still in his criminal stage. When British film-makers decided to make a movie of Father Brown in 1954 with Alec Guinness, this is the story they chose. I had a tough time getting through some of the other stories in this collection; but the good thing about this series is that there is no continuing plot, so you can pick and choose. The footnotes by Martin Gardiner are interesting and stimulating, but are a bit too much at times. If you don't like distracting annotations, then buy another edition.

The Father Brown stories are a bit fantastic and improbable, but that is true of Sherlock Holmes too. For the reader unfamiliar with G. K. Chesterton's creation, this quiet, somewhat shy priest will be a surprise.

Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson are so familiar that today's readers sometimes need to remind themselves that these two friends are indeed fictional characters. For many it may be difficult to imagine, much less accept, that other private detectives were also at work unraveling crimes in the fictional realm of Sherlock Holmes.

Father Brown coexisted in London with Holmes (during Sherlock's later years), but it is not obvious that they ever collaborated. While both exhibited a unique genius, their cases and their methods were indeed different. The solutions to Father Brown's mysteries are often improbable, but logically consistent, and usually have a metaphysical or moral aspect. Father Brown is not a sheltered cleric unaware of sin and evil, but just the reverse. He is able to place himself in the mind of the perpetrator, thereby seeing solutions that the reader fails to notice. Like Holmes, he is often more interested in understanding and solving a mystery, rather than meting out human justice.

Matin Gardner's extended footnotes clarify references that otherwise might be obscure today such as Edwardian manners, outdated technology, London landmarks, literary references, etc. The footnotes are not essential, but I found Gardner's annotation useful and entertaining.

The five Father Brown collections (53 stories in all) begin with these 12 stories,"The Innocence of Father Brown". Father Brown won't displace Sherlock Holmes, but you will not regret getting to know Holmes's clever contemporary.

This compilation is a classic collection of short-story murder/mysteries. Father Brown is a compelling figure throughout. The collection is large enough to spend days reading, if you like, but arranged in such a way that you can sneak in little bits of Father Brown as you are able.

This collection is comprised of 12 mysteries featuring Father Brown, a Roman Catholic priest who uses his knowledge of human nature and his intellect to solve the mysteries that seem to pop up around him. At times the solutions to the cases seem a bit fantasic and a little bit out-of-the-blue. However, all the solutions are logical and make sense when you think about them.

Furthermore, Chesterton's writting is brilliantly descriptive and really helps the the reader visualize the scene. As one of the other reviewers said Chesterton's writing ability really is extraordinary.

My personal favorite in the collection was "The Sign of the Broken Sword."

I would recommend this collection to any fan of mysteries and especially those who enjoy Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes and Agatha Christie's Poirot.

Father Brown is first introduced to readers as a kindly, clumsy little priest who prattles naively about the valuables he's toting, and keeps dropping his umbrella.

But appearances, G.K. Chesterton reminds us, are deceptive. "The Innocence of Father Brown" is the first collection of stories about the kindly, eccentric detective who has an uncanny cleverness that nobody guesses. Chesterton wraps each story in his warm, sometimes entrancing writing and a very odd assortment of crimes.

The first story opens with French detective Valentin on the hunt for the great thief Flambeau, and along the way encounters a little priest who is telling people about his "silver with blue stones." Turns out that the little priest is the target of Flambeau's crime, and the priceless sapphire cross he's carrying is about to be stolen -- but Valentin discovers that Father Brown is a lot cleverer than he seems.

In the stories that follow, Father Brown is involved in a series of strange crimes -- a cold-blooded beheading from religious bigotry, "a cheery cosy English middle-class crime" for Christmas, an Italian prince's invitation ends with revenge, a mysterious fall, a murderer in the open that nobody sees, precious gems, headless skeletons, and a suicide note that reads: "I die by my own hand; yet I die murdered!"

Chesterton's mysteries are often ignored next to Agatha Christie and Arthur Conan Doyle, which is odd when you consider his uncanny knack for making mysteries that are simple, yet incredibly hard to figure out. And each mystery is accompanied by little insights into human nature -- such as the one man whom you could see going to a crime scene, but wouldn't notice.

The mysteries are usually written very casually and a little humorously, but with an oblique wall of clues that don't make sense until Father Brown reveals the motives. And Chesterton's crowning achievement is a writing style is absolutely exquisite ("Between the silver ribbon of morning and the green glittering ribbon of sea"), something that not many mysteries have.

Three characters are really important here: little gnomish Father Brown, whose innocuous appearance hides a shrewd knowledge of crime and evil. There's Flambeau, a master thief who is impressed by Brown's intelligence and understanding, and the rabidly bigoted French detective Valentin, whose dislike of Brown takes an unexpected turn early in the book.

"The Innocence of Father Brown" is a solid little collection of Chesterton's detective stories, starring one of the least likely detectives you could pick. Definitely a good read for mystery buffs.

What an absolutely delightful set of stories! Each is gem of superb writing that is clever and perceptive. G.K. Chesterton serves up short detective stories, each of which is solved by the insightful intuition and logic of his Catholic priest hero, Father Brown. The situations Brown finds himself also illuminate 19th-century British class distinctions and pre-occupations. The characters are well drawn and intriguing. The 12 Fishermen is an aristocratic men's club with no apparent purpose other than to meet yearly in an exclusive restaurant. Inspector Valentin, the "greatest detective in the world," is an avowed atheist who is repelled by Brown's religiosity and irritated by his cleverness. Flambeau the exquisite thief starts out as a fairy-like phantom figure before becoming Brown's confidante. The murders and killings in the book are varied and fantastic -- everything from beheadings to duels to suicides are trotted out for us to decipher. But though Chesterton lays out his clues in the open, no case has an obvious solution, and all involve twists of identity. Red herrings abound, mostly of the reader's own conjuring. It's a wonder to read how the simple priest is able to see clearly where others see not at all.

Chesterton's evident humanity and views on life fairly leap off the page. His heros and villains are of the upper classes and include an odd menagerie of soldiers, doctors, poets, socialists and aristocrats. Chesterton sympathizes (to a point) with the socialist young, the romantic and even the repentant ne'er-do-well. He finds amusement at those who dabble in foreign religions. But he is wary of atheism, the occult and the anti-clericalism. Yet whatever his feelings, he gives to each of his characters the Christian opportunity to change and the very human reluctance to do so.

Worth reading or listening to over and over to appreciate GK's craft!

G. K. Chesterton had a writing ability that is nothing short of extraordinary. He could craft landscapes, settings, and locations with vivid textures, and possessed a cunning knack that made the ordinary seem thoroughly outlandish and the peculiar rather tame. This collection of short mysteries aptly shows off his skill as a writer; whereas most authors would use an entire novel to build tension, cultivate atmosphere, and weave a complex mystery, Chesterton could do all that in a few brief pages - and at a much higher level of quality too! Reading this book is like reading twelve beautifully crafted novels in one, such is the quality.

I won't spoil the stories for you; reading this book is a rewarding journey for the imagination, meeting many characters fantastic in their normalcy or surprisingly believable and realistic in their peculiarity, visiting locations stunningly brought to life with a writing skill that is second to none, and delving into mysterious events that are often confusing, complex, and entertaining for the brain. Don't pick this book up if you want some pedestrian tales; pick it up if you want first-class storytelling that will keep you both guessing and thinking.

Orthodoxy is probably Chesterton's best work and a deep read. His attempts at giving modern humanism a proper burial are well thought out, although it is worthwhile for the reader to get some historical background to the debate that Chesterton was having with McNabe.

Chesterton's both/and approach to the need of incorporating mystical beliefs and reason rather to understand truth, beauty and faith are timeless.

Chesterton is one of the most influential writers in Christian history. His works (about 100 books & thousands of articles) are becoming important again to the Christian community. We are finding his world views to be timeless and his insights critical to understand the issues facing us in our world today. I recommend this book to anyone searching for answers about the problems we face today.

This book is both dull and magnificent. Chesterton's writing style is brilliant even though often his writing is pointless. Like a trial lawyer engaged in circle talk he says a mouthful but at the same time, although eloquent, it is a mouthful of nothing. Much like a gorgeous flower it is best to view it than ingest it. So this book too is better lightly read than seriously studied.

G.K. Chesterton is the intellectual father of greats like C.S. Lewis and Josef Pieper...that's really enough said, but this particular work is my favorite...after reading it 3 or 4 times, I am still blown away each time by his brilliance.

These three novels are wonderful and the introduction and notes superb. Highly recommended for anyone who has been waiting a long time to find these rather rare books in a ready format.

I must say that I immensely enjoyed these three books by Chesterton. Manalive was my favorite of the three, followed by The Ball and the Cross, then The Flying Inn. I have individually reviewed each of the three, so I won't go into them here (just look up the books individually if you want to read about them). A previous reviewer said that The Flying Inn was the only book in this collection worth reading. I strongly disagree. Manalive and The Ball and the Cross became two of my favorite books after reading them. Manalive is definitely one of the best five books that I have ever read.

As to this specific edition, I was very pleased with the in-text notes. They really explain a lot of issues, and give information about many of the (somewhat) obscure historical figures that Chesterton referrences a lot (obscure in our time, not his). I do have one complaint about this edition, though: the introductions. I do not like to have the ending spoiled for me, and I knew that introductions to Chesterton's The Man Who Was Thursday had spoilers in the editor's introduction, so I decided to put off reading the introduction to this collected work until I had read the works. I am glad I did, because there are spoilers for both The Ball And The Cross and Manalive in the introductions, so DO NOT READ THE INRODUCTIONS unless you want to be deprived of the surprise which Chesterton indended for readers reaching the end of his books. I am very disappointed that Chesterton's editors repeatedly feel the need to give away the endings before the book even begins. Other than that, though, this was an excellent editions of some very hard to find Chesterton novels.

Overall Grade: A (Chesterton: A+, This edition: A-)

You gotta be careful with Chesterton. When he's at his best, he can't be beat, but he was also responsible for some clunker novels. Even Chesterton's most avid readers have to admit this.

Well, such are the first two novels in this omnibus: forgettable.

The only one of them worth reading -- but it's REALLY worth reading -- is "The Flying Inn" about a future England which has fallen under the spell of a super-virile form of Islam.

However, if you are going to only read this novel (a course of action I heartily recommend), there's a much cheaper edition out there, the Dover Thrift edition: ISBN 048641910X, also available on Amazon. A much more prudent purchase.