Fairy Tales and the Cosmos - quote by G.K. Chesterton

My last post was about how fairy tales prepared G.K. Chesterton's heart to recieve the gospel. Here is one of the choice quotes: 

Cinderella had a glass slipper, and it cannot be a coincidence that glass is so common a substance in folk-lore. This princess lives in a glass castle, that princess on a glass hill; this one sees all things in a mirror; they may all live in glass houses if they will not throw stones. For this thin glitter of glass everywhere is the expression of the fact that happiness is bright but brittle, like the substance most easily smashed by a housemaid or a cat. And this fairy-tale sentiment also sank into me and became my sentiment towards the whole world. I felt and feel that life itself is as bright as the diamond, but as brittle as the window-pane; and when the heavens were compared to the terrible crystal, I can remember a shudder. I was afraid that God would drop the cosmos with a crash.

(from page 86 of Orthodoxy)

Blessings,

Orthodoxy by G.K. Chesterton

G.K. Chesterton is one of the great thinkers of the 20^th century, but sometimes his brilliance can be blinding, and I struggle to grasp his meanings. That certainly hasn’t kept me from trying (as my book log of 17 of his titles shows!)

Chesterton is best remembered for responding to the famous skeptics of his day (George Bernard Shaw, Oscar Wilde, and Frederick Nietzsche, to name a few) with his hard-hitting yet witty counter-arguments against their staunch atheism. Orthodoxy, his best-known rebuttal, outlines his reasons for embracing Christian truths. His principal reason was that Christianity is the only religion that gives a sane explanation for this world. But he is quick to say that it is more than a conglomeration of right opinions: I will not call it my philosophy; for I did not make it. God and humanity made it; and it made me.

One quote from the book has stayed with me for many weeks. What we suffer from today is humility in the wrong place. Modesty had moved from the organ of ambition and has settled upon the organ of conviction, where it was never meant to be. A man was meant to be doubtful about himself, but undoubting about the truth; this has been exactly reversed. Nowadays the part of a man that a man does assert is exactly the part that he ought not to assert – himself. The part he doubts is exactly the part he ought not to doubt – the Divine Reason. This seems to define so much of the thinking I see in our culture (i.e. the triumph of self-delusion over clear biblical precepts).

Chesterton’s sense of wonder and “joie de vivre” keep his writings from being too didactic. I especially loved Chapter 4 on how fairy tales shaped his heart to believe in God. I had always believed that the world involved magic; now I thought that perhaps it involved a magician. Later he remarks, I left the fairy tales on the nursery floor and have not found any books so sensible since. (!)

His closing chapter was on the healthful confines of Christianity. Within its supposedly constricting limits, there is unrestricted joy. He writes, Catholic doctrine and discipline may be walls, but they are the walls of a playground. He writes beautifully of the freedom and exhilaration of knowing one’s Creator and of knowing one’s purpose as His creatures (as opposed to the despair of nihilism.)

I’ll leave you with one final quote by G.K. on the Trinity: It is indeed a fathomless mystery of theology. Suffice it to say that this triple enigma is as comforting as wine and as open as an English fireside; this thing that bewilders the intellect utterly quiets the heart.

This was my bedtime book for many months. I read two to three pages per night because that was all my brain could handle. But I think Chesterton is better read in small, well-chewed bites. It doesn’t do to read him in a hurry. 

Blessings,

Reading Year in Review 2024

It's always fun to look over the year and pick out my favorite books. The most challenging books still "haunt" me many months later - probably because they demanded so much of my heart and mind when I was reading them. Here's the list:

Favorite Light Reads: The last eight books in Jan Karon's Mitford series (four of which were new to me) and three Agatha Christie mysteries: Sad Cypress, Five Little Pigs, The Secret of Chimneys

Most Challenging: Till We Have Faces (The Lit Life Podcast episodes from 2020 added helpful commentary.)

Favorite Audio: The Iliad (lectures by Elizabeth Vandiver) 

Favorite Non-fiction: When Morning Gilds the Skies (reviewed here)

Favorite Vintage: Set in Silver (reviewed here)

Most Delightful Discovery: The poetry of William Wordsworth

Classic that I Tackled (for the second time): Dante's Inferno. I have physical copies of  Ciardi's translation, but longed for something more beautifully written. Happily, I found Hollander's delightful audioversion on Chirp for 99 cents! Reading along with the 100 Days of Dante group was one of the highlights of my year.

The Book That I Loved In Spite of Myself: The Power and the Glory by Graham Greene. Such a dark story, but so beautifully written. Many important religious themes.

Favorite of the Year: The Christmas Pig by J.K. Rowling. Brilliant storytelling (reviewed here)

This link  to Goodreads shows all 95 books that I read in 2024.

It was a very good year for building my literary muscles! What about you? Did you read something good that caught you by surprise?

Blessings,

Silent Nights: Christmas Mysteries edited by Martin Edwards

It is not uncommon in anthologies for one or two stories to fall flat, but Silent Night: Christmas Mysteries had good variety and good quality throughout. In addition to well-known authors such as Dorothy Sayers, G.K. Chesterton, and Margery Allingham, there are lesser-known writers such as Marjorie Bowen and Leo Bruce. Edgar Wallace is an author I’ve often seen mentioned, but had never read before. H.C. Bailey, too, has fallen from favor, but Agatha Christie was a big fan of his.

All of the story choices were quite good and most were more suspenseful than I was expecting. Because of my enormous love for all things related to John and Charles Wesley, I got a huge kick out of the mention of their family ghost in Edmund Crispin’s story.

In spite of the title, I would not classify this as a cozy read. I can only remember one story that was light-hearted. An example of the general tone of the stories can be found in this paragraph from “Cambric Tea.” Bevis Holroyd went angrily upstairs; he felt as if an invisible net was being dragged closely round him, something which, from being a cobweb, would become a cable; this air of mystery, of horror in the big house, this sly secretary, these watchful servants, the nervous village doctor ready to credit anything, the lovely agitated woman and the sinister sick man with his diabolic accusations, - a man Bevis had, from the first moment, hated – all these people in these dark surroundings affected the young man with a miasma of apprehension, gloom and dread.

This collection is part of the British Library Crime Classics. Some writers from the golden age of detective fiction have not held up well, but after this anthology I’d be willing to trust any book put together by Martin Edwards.

Blessings,

The Everlasting Man by G.K. Chesterton

I've read over a dozen books by Chesterton, but The Everlasting Man was one of the toughest to get through. Written as a rebuttal to H.G. Wells An Outline of History, Chesterton wrote the book to refute the idea that man is merely a part of the animal kingdom and that Jesus Christ was just an influential teacher.

Unfortunately the first half on the development of man and religion is quite a slog. If you can hang on until the chapter on the incarnation, "God in the Cave," you will be richly rewarded with G.K.'s insights into the first Christmas. Some of it is simply astonishing. He talks of Christ's birth as a cataclysmic event of good against evil.

Unless we understand the presence of that Enemy, we shall not only miss the point of Christianity, but even miss the point of Christmas. Its unique note is the simultaneous striking of many notes: of humility, of gaiety, of gratitude, of mystical fear, but also of vigilance and drama. There is something defiant in it also; something that makes the abrupt bells at midnight sound like the great guns of a battle that has just been won.

I had heard that this book was instrumental to C.S. Lewis' conversion so I read it looking for clues as to influential passages. Certainly "The Riddle of the Gospel" contained ideas that Lewis would later make famous in his Mere Christianity.

In the chapter on "The Witness of Heretics," Chesterton defends unchangeable biblical truth. What the denouncer of dogma really means is not that dogma is bad, but rather that dogma is too good to be true. Dogma gives man too much freedom when it permits him to fall. Dogma gives even God too much freedom when it permits Him to die. To them it is like believing in fairyland to believe in such freedom as we enjoy. It is like believing in men with wings to entertain the fancy of men with wills.

I can't recommend this unequivocally because it is a lot of plain, hard work, but if you like Chesterton, this would be a worthwhile effort. (In the future I will probably re-read just the second half!)

Blessings,

Appreciations and Criticisms of the Works of Charles Dickens by G.K. Chesterton

Even though the title is a mouthful, this book isn't as hard to understand as many of Chesterton's other works. Appreciations and Criticisms of the Works of Charles Dickens is simply a compilation of introductions that G.K. Chesterton wrote for each of Dickens' novels. He reviews the books in chronological order and shows how Dickens developed as a writer. He praises Dickens' genius while at the same time commenting on some of the weaknesses of his works.

There are occasional Chesteronian phrases like: It is not the death of Little Nell, but the life of Little Nell, that I object to. and You cannot love a thing without wanting to fight for it. You cannot fight without something to fight for. To love a thing without wishing to fight for it is not love at all; it is lust. (p. 23) But for the most part, Dickens, and not G.K., is on center stage.

Some samples of his commentary:

Pickwick Papers will always be remembered as the best example of everything that made Dickens great; of the solemn conviviality of great friendships, of the erratic adventures of old English roads, of the hospitality of old English inns, of the great fundamental kindliness and honor of old English manners. First of all, however, it will always be remembered for its laughter. (p. 24)

Oliver Twist is by far the most depressing of all his books; it is in some ways the most irritating; yet its ugliness gives the last touch of honesty to all Dickens' spontaneous and splendid output. Without this one discordant note, all his merriment might have seemed like levity. (p. 39)

What I loved the most was this observation: All of Dickens' books are Christmas books. All of them have the element of drama, of waiting anxiously for something to happen, "a crisis of happiness" (advent). Secondly, they all take place in the "winter" of hardships where characters manage to celebrate in spite of the cold. And thirdly, is the element of the grotesque. Poets and painters have striven to express happiness by means of beautiful figures. Dickens understood that happiness is best expressed by ugly figures: the corpulence of Tony Weller and the red nose of Mr. Stiggins.

He goes on to describe The Christmas Carol as the best of the Christmas books because it has those three elements in spades: the sudden conversion of Scrooge, the winter scenes, and the undignified rejoicing of Scrooge's final happiness. The turkey that Scrooge bought was so fat, says Dickens, that it could never have stood upright. That top-heavy and monstrous bird is a good symbol of the top heavy happiness of the stories. (p. 112)

If you are not already a Dickens fan, you might find the book dry. But it made me want to read the whole canon. Also, each chapter contains spoilers so it's probably best to read the novels first and then see what Chesterton thought about them.

Blessings,

A Year With G.K. Chesterton: 365 Days of Wit, Wisdom and Wonder

I've written before that Chesterton is good in small doses. His genius is so far beyond me that I'm happy when I understand a tenth of what he is saying. So, a daily "bite-sized" devotional book is a clever, manageable way to become acquainted with his way of thinking. Each reading includes a verse, two short paragraphs from his writings (strangely, the source of the first one is never given) and a "this-day-in-history" entry showing what G.K. was doing on that particular day (lecturing, releasing a book, traveling, etc.)

A Year with G.K. Chesterton is not a typical devotional in the sense that it gives daily inspiration from Scripture. Because of his strong Catholic beliefs, his essays presuppose the existence of God. But many readings are critiques of writers such as Dickens, Milton and Bunyan.

So why read it? Frankly, because a daily dose of sparkling lucidity braces you to face the ever increasing foolishness of our culture and our world. Somehow the air I was breathing felt clearer after a page of  G.K. His fierce optimism and childlike wonder were a daily uplift. As was his beautiful language.

On the trinity: God himself is a society. It is indeed a fathomless mystery of theology. Suffice it to say here that this triple enigma is as comforting as wine and as open as an English fireside. This thing that bewilders the intellect utterly quiets the heart.

On how fairy tales reflect the gospel: In the fairy tale an incomprehensible happiness rests upon an incomprehensible condition. A box is opened, and all evils fly out. A word is forgotten, and cities perish. A lamp is lit, and love flies away. A flower is plucked, and human lives are forfeited. An apple is eaten, and the hope of God is gone.

A lovely book. If you adjust your expectations to this as a "devotional" (as something mentally rather than spiritually invigorating), it would make a great addition to your daily quiet time.

One of Chesterton's critic's described him well: His wordy rockets soar desperately into the dark, pause, break into a cascade of stars, and, there, to our astonished gaze, lie momentarily revealed the peaceful landscape of simple truth.

Brave New Family by G.K. Chesterton - Part 2

G.K. Chesterton is better understood in bite-sized chunks so I greatly appreciated the editor of Brave New Family compiling G.K’s wisdom on the subject into digestible paragraphs and chapters.

In my last post I quoted a few of his thoughts on marriage and this week I want to highlight his insights into motherhood, especially the idea that mothers should work and let someone else raise their children. (Although written 100 years ago, his words are quite contemporary.)

The State thinks think they can do a better job and leave the mother to do something more meaningful. The actual effect of this theory is that one harassed person has to look after a hundred children, instead of one normal person looking after a normal number of them. Normally that normal person is urged by a natural force, which costs nothing and does not require a salary, the force of natural affection for his young... If you cut off that natural force, and substitute a paid bureaucracy, you are like a lunatic who should carefully water his garden with a watering can, while holding an umbrella to keep off the rain. (p. 56)

A woman's function is laborious, because it is gigantic, not because it is minute. I will pity Mrs. Jones for the bigness of her task; I will never pity her for its smallness. (p. 113)

And my favorite: Progressive people are perpetually telling us that the hope of the world is in education. Education is everything. Nothing is so important as training the rising generation. They tell us this over and over again, with slight variations of the same formula, and never seem to see what it involves. For if there be any word of truth in all this talk about the education of the child, then there is certainly nothing but nonsense in nine-tenths of the talk about the emancipation of women. If education is the highest function of the State, why should anybody want to be emancipated from the highest function of the State? If education is the largest thing in the world, what is the sense of talking about a woman being liberated from the largest thing in the world? (154)

Brave New Family by G.K. Chesterton - Part 1

I just finished reading the horribly depressing, The Flipside of Feminism by Venker. (My review on Goodreads is here.) Thank heavens I could balance it with Chesterton’s humorous and insightful Brave New Family. BNF is an anthology of his writings on marriage, sex, and motherhood. Chesterton cannot be improved upon so I without further ado, here are some of his choice quotes on marriage.

Of all human institutions marriage is the one which depends upon slow development, upon patience, upon long reaches of time, upon magnanimous compromise, upon kindly habit. (p. 23)

I have been requested to write something about Marriage and the Modern Mind. It would perhaps be more appropriate to write about Marriage and the Modern Absence of Mind. In much of their current conduct, those who call themselves "modern" seem to have abandoned the use of reason; (31)

They have invented a phrase, a phrase that is a black and white contradiction in two words: 'free love,' as if a lover ever had been, or ever could be free. It is the nature of love to bind itself, and the institution of marriage merely paid the average man the compliment of taking him at his word. (p. 51)

I was pleasantly surprised at Chesterton's frank discussion of sexuality (100 years ago!) and appreciated this quote:

The moment sex ceases to be a servant it becomes a tyrant. (p. 187)

Stay tuned for more in my next post. . .

Lunacy and Letters by G.K. Chesterton

I grasp only half of what G.K. Chesterton writes. But what I do understand is so astonishingly clear and profound (and witty) that I keep coming back for more. My latest foray into Chesterton has been Lunacy and Letters, a book of essays published posthumously by his secretary Dorothy Collins.

I loved the undercurrent of humor - such as the time he defended himself against the accusation of wife-beating by calling it "a pastime for which I lack the adequate energy." (p.134)

Chesterton is the king of paradox. He describes the man who wants to leave his boring city to find adventure and excitement. He contends that the opposite is true. The man is afraid of the unpredictability of real life. The reason we fly from the city is not in reality that it is not poetical; it is that its poetry is too fierce, too fascinating and too practical in its demands. (p. 23) In a later essay he writes, Let no one flatter himself that he leaves his family life in search of art, or knowledge; he leaves it because he is fleeing from the baffling knowledge of humanity and from the impossible art of life. (p. 60)

He writes of the sanctity of sleep; The greatest act of faith that a man can perform is the act that we perform every night. We abandon our identity, we turn our soul and body into chaos and old night. We uncreate ourselves as if at the end of the world; for all practical purposes we become as dead men, in the sure and certain hope of a glorious resurrection...It is in vain for us to say that we think the ultimate power [is] evil when every twelve hours we give our soul and body back to God without security. (i.e. guarantee) p. 30

Lunacy and Letters was recommended to me for the essay "Good Stories Spoiled by Great Authors" (in which Chesterton writes a scathing review of Milton's Adam from Paradise Lost). But the essay that I most loved was the last one called "The Roots of the World" which describes how "the enemies of religion cannot leave it alone." In their fruitless attempts to destroy it, however, they end up smashing everything else. (p. 191)

In Lunacy and Letters, G.K. is insightful, funny and hard-hitting. And worth the effort.

Although several of these essays were perplexing, the ones I understood were pure delight.

Tess of the D'urbervilles by Thomas Hardy

After listening to Adrian Praetzellis read Treasure Island, I downloaded his version of Tess of the D'urbervilles. I had a vague recollection of having read this for a college lit class but all that I remembered was that Tess was a fallen woman. I will do my best to write about the book without any more spoilers than that. Beautiful (but poor) young Tess is taken advantage of by a rich young man early in the novel. Thankfully, Hardy spares us the sordid details and spends the greater part of the novel revealing the effects of Tess's transgression. Hardy makes it clear he sees her as more sinned against than sinful. I was completely blindsided by the ending (I must have slept through that lit class!), but I have no excuse for that since I knew from previous experience that Hardy is a gloomy gus.

In spite of the unhappy conclusion, I strongly recommend this book for its fine prose, compelling story, and for its vigorous portrayal of the "evils" of Christianity.  Our hero, ironically named Angel, declares he has no use for doctrines, but, is "of course, a believer in good morals." (p. 225) A few pages later Hardy compares a mill that is situated next to a crumbling abbey. He observed that the one continued to thrive because "food is a perennial necessity; [but] the abbey had perished, creeds being transient." (234) Clearly Hardy believes the world would be a better place without the doctrines imposed by the Church.

The religious people in the book are either hardhearted or hypocrites. Those who have rejected Christianity want morality without dogma. But the horrible result is that there is only law and no grace. And nothing shows this more than Angel's reaction to Tess's confession. Since he has rejected the articles of Christian faith, he has no basis for forgiveness. She has broken the law and she must pay. And pay, she does!

Although Hardy himself rejected Christianity, he was clearly familiar with the Bible which makes this book rich in biblical allusions. I found great pleasure in those references and in his excellent writing. I only wish he could have known that Christ's teachings are not "suffocating creeds" as much as they are liberating truths.

Nobody says it better than G.K. Chesterton in his book Heretics: The vice of the modern notion of mental progress is that it is always something concerned with the breaking of bonds, the effacing of boundaries, the casting away of dogmas. But if there be such a thing as mental growth, it must mean the growth into more and more definite convictions, into more and more dogmas. The human brain is a machine for coming to conclusions; if it cannot come to conclusions, it is rusty. When we hear of a man too clever to believe, we are hearing of something having almost the character of a contradiction in terms. It is like hearing of a nail that was too good to hold down a carpet; or a bolt that was too strong to keep a door shut.... When [a man] drops one doctrine after another in a refined skepticism, when he declines to tie himself to a system, when he says that he has outgrown definitions, when he says that he disbelieves in finality, when, in his own imagination, he sits as God, holding no form of creed but contemplating all, then he is by that very process sinking slowly backwards into the vagueness of the vagrant animals and the unconsciousness of grass. Trees have no dogmas. Turnips are singularly broad-minded.

Although I disagree heartily with Hardy's worldview, I see the value in reading his books because instead of glorifying a world without religion, he is honest enough to admit it would be hell. 

G.K. Chesterton's New Year Quote

Diane at An Extraordinary Day has a nice printable of G.K. Chesterton's New Year quote: "The object of a new year is not that we should have a new year, but rather that we should have a new soul."

A Christmas Carol by G. K. Chesterton

The Christ-child lay on Mary’s lap,

His hair was like a light.

(O weary, weary were the world,

But here is all aright.)

The Christ-child lay on Mary’s breast,

His hair was like a star.

(O stern and cunning are the kings,

But here the true hearts are.)

The Christ-child lay on Mary’s heart,

His hair was like a fire.

(O weary, weary is the world,

But here the world’s desire.)

The Christ-child stood on Mary’s knee,

His hair was like a crown,

And all the flowers looked up at Him,

And all the stars looked down.

(The poem set to music can be heard  here.)

The Man Who Knew Too Much by G. K. Chesterton

The Man Who Knew Too Much is not a novel as much as it is eight short stories with the same man as their protagonist.  It was written in 1922 and is not to be confused with the Alfred Hitchcock film of the same title about a kidnapping in Morrocco.

Horne Fisher is a rich, seemingly lazy, man who is so brilliant that he solves crimes without much effort. He is described as someone who was "born tired." Yet he is the "man who knows too much" because he is related to several people in powerful political positions and has inside knowledge of how the English government is being run.  Many of the stories have a twist in which Fisher has to let a crime happen (or go unpunished) for the greater good of the country.  Harold March is the journalist friend who gets to watch the mastermind at work.

It is classic G.K. Chesterton with enigmatic phrases ("You never know the good in man until you've seen him at his worst") and surprising twists (especially Chapter 7.)

The original book has 12 chapters but the audiobook I listened to only had the chapters that included Horne Fisher. My version was excellently done by B.J. Harris over at Classic Tales Podcast.

Another Chesterton Quote on Doctrine

Man may be defined as an animal that makes dogmas.   As he piles doctrine on doctrine and conclusion on conclusion in the formation of some tremendous scheme of philosophy and religion, he is, in the only legitimate sense of which the expression is capable, becoming more and more human.  When he drops one doctrine after another in a refined skepticism, when he declines to tie himself to a system, when he says that he has outgrown definitions, when he says that he disbelieves in finality, when, in his own imagination, he sits as God, holding no form of creed but contemplating them all, then he is by that very process sinking slowly backward into the vagueness of the vagrant animals and the unconsciousness of the grass.  Trees have no dogmas.  Turnips are singularly broad-minded.

(from Heretics by G.K. Chesterton, p. 288-289) -

Father Brown on Kindle

For those of you who can never have enough books on your Kindle, I thought this deal from Amazon.com was pretty good: The Complete Father Brown Mysteries. I know Chesterton's stories are great, but I can't vouch for this version since I haven't read it yet.  Still, it's not a bad way to spend 99 cents.

The Carved Lions by Mary L. Molesworth

The Carved Lions is another title from my personal Victorian challenge.  It was published in 1895 and is the story of a little girl sent to an English boarding school because her father has been assigned a job in South America.  She’s very unhappy, but manages to squeeze a cheerful ending out of all of her trials.  (The definitive book with the same theme is, of course, Frances Hodgson Burnett’s A Little Princess, which had been published seven years earlier.)

There was nothing dreadfully wrong with this book.  It was not overly didactic or moralistic - even though young Geraldine reads quite a few preachy books that were popular in the 1850’s.  My main complaint against the book is that Geraldine is an unappealing heroine. As narrator, she makes too many excuses for herself and for the faults of others. All the mistakes she made in her school had to do with her being sick and not hearing well, or being naive and not responding well.  She never seems quite real.  Or likable.

The end of the book contained fascinating reviews written during Moleworth’s lifetime:  “Christmas would hardly be Christmas without one of Mrs. Molesworth’s stories.  No one has quite the same power of throwing a charm and an interest about the commonplace everyday doings as she has, and no one has ever blended fairyland and reality with the same skill.”  Her stories were referred to by one Victorian critic as “neo-fairy” stories. Another referred to her as “the queen of children’s fairyland.”  The words “healthful moral tone,” were often used to describe her writing.  

That last phrase made me wince since I'm suspicious of any author who sets out to write a book to teach children something. I don't mind books with a healthful, moral tone, IF they don't make me feel like I'm taking my vitamins.

Chesterton mentions Mrs. Molesworth in his The Victorian Age in Literature as a writer of true talent and compares her with two other writers for children, Juliana Ewing and Charlotte Yonge. (p. 32) Both Ewing and Yonge are on my list to read this year so I look forward to comparing them myself.

The Marriage of Elinor by Margaret Oliphant

Why, when Chesterton recommended Oliphant’s finest novel to be A Beleaguered City, did I pick the first free Kindle title that came up on the screen?  The Marriage of Elinor was one of over one hundred books written by Mrs. Margaret Oliphant (1828-1897) and, obviously, not her best work.

I tried very hard to like this book, but the main character, Elinor Compton, was so willful and headstrong that it was hard to root for her.  Everyone knows she is heading into a disastrous marriage, but she refuses the counsel of her best and dearest friends and marries badly.  George Eliot wrote two books about women with bad marriages (Middlemarch and Daniel Deronda) but the heroines endure, they grow, and they come out better than when they went in.  But throughout Oliphant’s book, Elinor stubbornly denies the consequences of her bad choices and continues ignoring the loving advice of close friends. She goes her own way for the entire (very long) book. She suffers, but never shows signs of growth.  In the end, when it all comes crashing down upon her, you almost don’t care anymore.

In The Victorian Age in Literature, G.K. Chesterton calls Oliphant a successful, but second tier author (George Eliot, Charlotte Brontë, etc. being first tier).  Interestingly, he labeled Oliphant “a much mellower and more Christian Eliot.” And he esteemed her for infusing her “timid Victorian tales with a true and intense faith in the Christian mystery.” (p. 116-117)

That said, I did not find Marriage of Elinor to be particularly preachy. (Thank goodness!)  Although I did not love this book, I cannot write this author off.  Because of Chesterton’s raves, I plan to give her another try, but probably not anytime soon.

This is the second title in my Personal Victorian Challenge.

The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins

I read The Moonstone as a part of my Victorian Challenge because when G. K. Chesterton called it “the best detective tale in the world,” I couldn’t resist.

I had previously enjoyed Wilkie Collins’ A Woman in White and was surprised at their difference in tone.  Woman in White is straight drama. The first fourth of Moonstone, however, is written from the tongue-in-cheek perspective of the Verinder’s trusted family servant, Gabriel Betteredge.  His commentary is so humorous that I initially had a hard time taking the book seriously.  His self-deprecating witticisms and his devotion to the book Robinson Crusoe (as a cure for every ailment) had me chuckling throughout.

The moonstone is a diamond with a troubled history.  Stolen from a hindu temple in India it has been smuggled to England where it is given to Rachel Verinder on her 18th birthday.  The uncle who willed it to her had a grudge against the family and some believed that he willed it to her out of spite because of the curse connected with it.  The diamond is stolen the night of the birthday party.  Suspicion points to the servants, those who attended the party (including Miss Verinder herself), and to the three mysterious men from India who have been snooping around the neighborhood.

Add to that a former thief who works at the house as a servant, a self-righteous old biddy who hands out tracts,  the rose-loving Sergeant Cuff, Miss Verinder’s two suitors, the ostracized Ezra Jennings and Gooseberry the messenger boy, and you have quite a cast of characters. You'll never guess who did it!

May I make a confession here?  Although I liked Moonstone, I did not think it was the best detective tale in the world.  Granted, it was one of the first detective novels ever written and Chesterton didn’t have much with which to compare it.  I thought the writing was good, but not terrific, and that the novel took way too long to reach the denouement (after which it rambled on a bit more). Having just read Josephine Tey, I was homesick for her fine, tight prose.

Still, I’m glad I got to read the “granddaddy” of all detective novels.

Personal Victorian Challenge

In 1913 G.K. Chesterton’s published The Victorian Age in Literature in which he expressed his opinions about several dozen writers of the Victorian period. These authors were fresh on the minds of his readers.  Therefore he assumes much and explains little.  Also, this is not a treasure trove of the theological and philosophical maxims that make Chesterton’s writings popular even today.  So I can’t heartily recommend the book.  

BUT since I am a fan of classic literature, I enjoyed his many references to beloved authors and he piqued my interest in several names with which I was unfamiliar.  

Based on Chesterton’s critiques, I’ve decided to read one Victorian author per month in 2013 (not in any particular order).  With each review I will add an applicable quote from Victorian Age.  Should be interesting.

1. George Eliot - Adam Bede - finished 9/12/13
2. Wilkie Collins - The Moonstone - finished 1/18/13
3. Robert Louis Stevenson - The Master of Ballantrae - finished 8/17/13
4. Charles Dickens - Dombey and Son switched to David Copperfield
5. Anne Brontë - Tenant of Wildfell Hall - finished 10/12/13
6. Margaret Oliphant - The Marriage of Elinor - finished 2/7/13
7. Charlotte Yonge - The Heir of Redclyffe
8. Mary Louisa Molesworth - The Carved Lions - finished 2/28/13
9. Juliana H. G. Ewing - Fairy Tales - finished 7/10/13
10. Thomas Hardy - A Pair of Blue Eyes - finished 3/29/13
11. Matthew Arnold - Sohrab and Rustum and other Poems - finished 7/15/13
12. Anthony Trollope - The Claverings - finished 5/6/13

Alternate titles: North and South, Agnes Grey

I'll continue with my Classics Club Challenge as well.

Postscript: Wrap-up is posted here.