I discovered Chesterton in seminary, which isn't really a shock. He's such a fantastic thinker and so quick-witted and joyful. I'd put his wit up with Oscar Wilde, but it has a very different flavor. I'd have loved to watch him debate. However, I actually read my first Father Brown mystery, "The Blue Cross", this year in an anthology. I'm a big fan of murder mysteries because they are the most moral fiction we have.
In seminary, I came up with a theory that the chubbier a theologian was the jollier his theology. Take John Newton. He was rotund at the height of his writing on grace. Take the Desert Fathers; they thought laughter was bad for the soul. But, I think my theory explains the difference between Martin Luther and John Calvin... and their followers.
Father Brown's character is a lovable little mole of a man. He's nothing to look at and terribly odd, but he's terribly keen and wise. He understands human nature at a fundamental level. The plots are not always brilliant, but there's always a haunting idea embedded in the story. And, Chesterton's writing is phenomenal.
Father Brown on crime as a work of art:
"A crime," he said slowly, "is like any other work of art. Don't look surprised; crimes are by no mean the only works of art that come from an infernal workshop. But every work of art, divine or diabolic, has one indispensable mark-- I mean, that the center of it is simple, however much the fulfillment may be complicated...." He then goes on to prove his theory with Hamlet; he makes numerous literary allusions which are fun and accurate. (from The Queer Feet, p.57)
On politicians:
"Men may keep a sort of level of good, but no man has ever been able to keep on one level of evil. That road goes down and down. The kind man drinks and turns cruel; the frank man kills and lies about it. Many a man I've known started like to be an honest outlaw, a merry robber of the rich, and ended stamped into slime." (The Flying Stars, p. 73).
On conversation:
"Have you ever noticed this-- that people never answer what you say? They answer what you mean-- or what they think you mean...." (The Invisible Man, p. 89)
On Sleep:
"Sleep!" cried Father Brown. "Sleep. We have come to the end of the ways. Do you know what sleep is? Do you know that every man that sleeps believes in God? It is a sacrament, if only a natural one. Something has fallen on us that falls very seldom on men; perhaps the worst thing that can fall on them."
Craven's parted lips came together to say, "What do you mean?"
The priest had turned his face to the castle as he answered:
"We have found the truth; and the truth makes no sense."
... when they reached the castle again he threw himself upon sleep with the simplicity of a dog." (The Honour of Israel Gow, p. 102)
On miracles and the modern mind:
""The modern mind always mixes up two different ideas: mystery in the sense of what is marvellous, and mystery in the sense of what is complicated. That is half its difficulty about miracles. A miracle is startling; but it is simple. It is simple because it is a miracle. It is power coming directly from God (or the devil) instead of indirectly through nature or human wills...." (The wrong shape, p.121)
On humility:
"....Humility is the mother of giants. One sees great things from the valley; only small things from the peak."
....
"I am a man," answered Father Brown gravely; "and therefore have all devils in my heart...." (The Hammer of God, pp. 158-9)
Example of his poetic language (and literary illusion):
The thousand arms of the forest were grey, and its million fingers silver. In a sky dark green-blue-like slate the stars were bleak and brilliant like splintered ice. All that quickly wooded and sparsely tenanted countryside was stiff with a bitter and brittle frost. The black hollows between the trunks of the trees looked like bottomless, black caverns of that Scandinavian hell, a hell of incalculable cold.... (The Sign of the Broken Sword, p.176)
My recommendation: buy this book at a used bookstore to pick up when you want to smile and think for a bit.
No comments:
Post a Comment