Orthodoxy by G. K. Chesterton: A Book Review

I’ve tried to read G.K. Chesterton before. My eldest daughter, a fan of the Father Brown Mysteries, often encouraged me to catch up so we could discuss the stories together. I was sure Lapanto was a story I should know something about, until I discovered it was in poetic form. Ballad of a White Horse sounded impressive, but alas, another epic poem. A friend started an online Chesterton discussion group but, I could not keep up with the style.  It ended up to be a compiling of favored weekly quotes, to which there was an endless supply. Finally, with a move to the country and a strong interest in the self-sufficient lifestyle, The Outline of Sanity seemed to be my best bet at completing a

Chesterton book. My copy even had a quaint country scene on its cover which made it visually appear to be exactly the sort of inviting book to finish off my country days each evening. I read far enough to learn Chesterton was not in favor of socialism and definitely not a capitalist, but favored "distributionalism." "What? Oh! That's distributism. Hmm, that sounds like socialism." I was so confused. And, tired. I was halfway through my tenth pregnancy and easily falling asleep after two paragraphs, sometimes much less. I did make it far enough to learn, however, that distributism was not redistribution of wealth and he spoke of bringing policies and politics closer to the family by way of local government, which all sounded very Catholic and comforting to me. I really don’t know why I did not finish the book. I suppose I simply moved on to that new little baby and Goodnight Moon at some point. Nonetheless, my brief, unfinished brushes with Chesterton were enough for me to claim I loved Chesterton. (I just couldn’t seem to finish any of his books.)

It did not take long, this time around, for me to realize what it is about Chesterton that makes finishing one of his books such a challenge: each sentence he writes is a detainment to the next.

Almost every sentence he writes makes me stop and think. Again, I found myself able to only digest one to two paragraphs at a time. The most peculiar thing, paging back to write this review, is it seems as though the sentences I underlined and noted in the margins were new to me and even those not underlined were just as profound.

I found my hook in the second paragraph of Orthodoxy where Chesterton wrote, “ I have often had a fancy for writing a romance about an English yachtsman who slightly miscalculated his course and discovered England under the impression that it was a new island on the South Seas.” Chesterton speaks of the delight of discovering a new land only to have it end up be more glorious because it is actually the very place you’ve always lived.[1] He tells us that he is the yachtsman,which makes me realize Chesterton's own hook: his honesty.[2] “For this book explains how I fancied I was the first to set foot in Brighton and then found I was the last.”[3] Reading this made me think about my conversation about "Apophatic Theology" with Father Nathan Kroll and how excited I was to discover something new, only to find further satisfaction that it had been discovered long ago. 

I knew by page four that Orthodoxy would be the first Chesterton book I would read from cover to cover, but it was going to take awhile!

Orthodoxy was Chesterton’s answer to the Modernism all around him. Each chapter deserves a book review all on its own. I found many connections within my own life as it is still relevant today, even though it was written in 1908.

In "The Maniac,"  he compares the age old debate about human sin between the Atheist and the Christian with the new theologian’s solution to get rid of the sin.[4] He says things like, “ If you argue with a madman, it is extremely probable that you will get the worst of it; for in many ways his mind moves all the quicker for not being delayed by the things that go with good judgment.”[5] And, I thought about all of the time I’ve wasted arguing with madmen.

In "The Suicide of Thought,"  he points out that “It is idle to talk always of the alternative of reason and faith. Reason is itself a matter of faith. It is an act of faith to assert that our thoughts have any relation to reality at all.”[6] And I thought about the conversation I once had with a young woman who stated that reason is all the faith a person needs. Not much has changed; the ideologies of Chesterton’s age are the same as they are in mine. 

With "The Ethics of Elfland," Chesterton moves into a defense of fairytales of which I am grateful because I have spent so much time encouraging my children to read them. As local libraries have discarded their Grimm books in favor of disneyfied versions, our shelves have bowed under the weight of good stories. My favorite of this chapter is when Chesterton points out, “Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, “Do it again”; and the grow-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony.”[7] And, I resolve the next time my two-year old says, “Do it again!” I shall. Again, and, again, while thanking Chesterton for my change of attitude. All of a sudden monotony becomes something I wish to exult in rather than listen to the world tell me it is dull and boring. That is the power of Chesterton, right there. I get it now.

"The Flag of the World" reassured me that “Love is not blind; that is the last thing that love is. Love is bound; and the more it is bound the less it is blind.” I was immediately back to pushing that two-year old in the swing again and again but, this time, while thinking about my daughter who blindly says she loves a young man who is a spiritual none.

"The Paradoxes of Christianity" brought me to the present state of contemplating Pacifism as I finished up a Sociology class. "Christianity is the reason for the Pacifism," I think, "while it is also the cause of the war. Chesterton is the balance.

In "The Eternal Revolution," Chesterton talks about reform and how we have actually mixed up two opposite things in our age. “Progress should mean that we are always changing the world to suit the vision. Progress does mean (just now) that we are always changing the vision.”[8] I thought about how the Catholic Church has constantly reformed itself to suit the vision Christ had for unity of faith and how imperative it is that we grasp the meaning of this by studying all of history from a Catholic perspective. I think about my own domestic church and how we are doing the same; constantly reforming ourselves. So, why then do I feel like I have failed as a parent in so many ways when, instead I should realize, more probable than failure, this is a time of reform? God is sustaining this family and will bring us into the next just as he always does.

Chapter eight, "The Romance of Orthodoxy" in all honesty, won the first round of my fight to stick with it and work toward comprehension and understanding. I’m not even going to try to pretend that I understood much of it. But, I read it; I made it through and I will read it again, for this is the sort of book you do not tuck away on the shelf when you are finished reading it. Instead, it remains on the nightstand and you pick it up at those times when you feel defeated and exhausted; knowing you will only need to read a paragraph at most to find encouragement.

The final chapter of Orthodoxy, "Authority and Adventure," however, brought me to the present Church History class of this blog when he said, “Christianity was the one path across the Dark Ages that was not dark. It was the shining bridge connecting two shining civilizations. If anyone says that the faith arose in ignorance and savagery the answer is simple; it didn’t."[9] He goes on to speak of the Church as the ship that has sunk, only to come up again repainted and glittering; the sunken ship turned submarine. That little baby, I spoke of at the beginning who, five years ago, wore me out enough to not care if I read more than children’s books, asked me the other day if Jesus laughs. Does he? We can be certain he does, he was fully human after all and we all know how good it is to laugh but, where is our proof? For it is not written that Jesus laughed in any Gospel story. I am immediately thankful that sola scriptura is not a part of my Catholic faith. Instead, this simple question made me realize how important reason is to my Catholic faith and in that moment, I understood the importance of Orthodoxy; I understood the importance of tradition.

Chesterton shows that what was not written is just as important as what was written. 

My favorite passage of the entire book of Orthodoxy came at the absolute end of the book, which was delightful for me to discover.

"The Stoics, ancient and modern, were proud of concealing their tears. He never concealed His tears; He showed them plainly on His open face at any daily sight, such as the far sight of His native city. Yet He concealed something. Solemn supermen and imperial diplomats are proud of restraining their anger. He never restrained His anger. He flung furniture down the front steps of the Temple, and asked men how they expected to escape the damnation of Hell. Yet He restrained something. I say it with reverence; there was in that shattering personality a thread that must be called shyness. There was something that He hid from all men when He went up a mountain to pray. There was something that He covered constantly by abrupt silence or impetuous isolation. There was some one thing that was too great for God to show us when He walked upon our earth; and I have sometimes fancied that it was His mirth.”[10]

G.K. Chesterton: Orthodoxy. New York: Barnes & Noble, 2007. vi-153 pp. $8.95.

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G. K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy (Barnes & Noble: New York, 2007), 2.

Chesterton, Orthodoxy, 3.

Chesterton, Orthodoxy, 4.

Chesterton, Orthodoxy, 7.

Chesterton, Orthodoxy, 11.

Chesterton, Orthodoxy, 25.

Chesterton, Orthodoxy, 51.

Chesterton, Orthodoxy, 97-98.

Chesterton, Orthodoxy, 139.

Chesterton, Orthodoxy, 152-153.
All Images: Lisa King