This was my first dive into G.K. Chesterton's fiction, with previous glimpses from quotes and a Vanity Fair profile, and I must say that it was thoroughly enjoyable.
It was delightful to have another genre of fiction to read; for although I loved The Age of Innocence, I knew I needed a break from that type of literature. The Man Who Was Thursday is only 155 pages, so I thought it would be a relatively easy read.
Well, that was a misconception! Chesterton writes a dense 155 pages, and for all the surprises and twists in the story, the book did not move very fast at all. You had to hike through paragraphs of philosophy and word play (which I loved, by the way) to understand everything in the story. Then Chesterton spews out more philosophical musings and rants in overwhelming paragraphs at the ending that trap you in a dilemma of curiosity about the ending versus curiosity of the depth of each symbol. It's quite a journey, I tell you, as I had been warned myself in its introduction.
I can't tell you much about the story for fear of giving away pleasant surprises that are much better as surprises, but I will tell you that should the book interest you any, look for the countless religious inferences and allusions. I hope that doesn't turn away as much as it does shed some light on aspects of Christianity that may elude many people today. The ending bordered platitudinous cheese, but for some reason, in those moments of reading and concluding the story, it worked.
So hats off to you, Chesterton. I have put your Father Brown stories and The Ball and Cross on my reading list.
But up next is...Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov! Reasons for choosing this one will be coming soon in another post.
