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4.08 AVERAGE
4.08 AVERAGE
Ah Chesterton. Always entertaining. Always witty.
This seemed to be a collection of newspaper columns he had written. As such, some are amusing and entertaining. But some are very much of the moment, or require a familiarity with certain places and people, and are not quite as good.
This seemed to be a collection of newspaper columns he had written. As such, some are amusing and entertaining. But some are very much of the moment, or require a familiarity with certain places and people, and are not quite as good.
WHAT A FLIPPING DELIGHT THIS MAN MUST HAVE BEEN TO KNOW. HE IS HONESTLY SO WONDERFUL AND CRAZY AND FAT AND POETIC AND HE GOES ON POETIC TIRADES ABOUT WOOD AND CHEESE AND GOING THE WRONG WAY AND WHITE CHALK. WHAT A GEM. YET EVERYONE HE TALKED TO WAS JUST ALL 'HO HUM, SHUT UP, GKC.' I DON'T UNDERSTAND. I WOULD HAVE LAUGHED MYSELF TO DEATH FROM SHEER DELIGHT.
THIS MAN IS A TREASURE.
THIS MAN IS A TREASURE.
A fun and witty little volume full of the usual Chestertonian warmth and quotability. Here Chesterton writes a smattering of short "trifles" all related to common things. He talks about white chalk, railways, and croquet (among other things) but through writing about common objects, he shows us that even ordinary life can be uncommonly adventurous after all.
lighthearted
reflective
slow-paced
I am not a fan of the writing style and the references are obviously outdated. Harsh, sure but glob durnit my opinion matters.
Isaac Brock is probably a big fan.
Isaac Brock is probably a big fan.
The most honest quote in this book is: “I tend, like all who are growing old, to re-enter the remote past as a paradise or playground” (211).
Chesterton is that customer at the grocery store who, when the item doesn’t ring up, guffaws that “It must be free!” And then, when no one laughs, goes home to write an angry Facebook post about how the new generation has no sense of humor or artistry, in dialogic form, assigning all the cleverest bits of speech to himself.
Chesterton is that customer at the grocery store who, when the item doesn’t ring up, guffaws that “It must be free!” And then, when no one laughs, goes home to write an angry Facebook post about how the new generation has no sense of humor or artistry, in dialogic form, assigning all the cleverest bits of speech to himself.
Some chapters were fantastic like 34th or any of which I pulled out citation. Some chapters I couldn't understan the point of, some didn't resonate, some were uterly boring. And, like always, Chesterton is paradox, sometimes his writing is hevenly, sometimes so bad I ask myself why am I even reading.