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First, another vocabulary term: "diablerie". It is a word which, according to my mother's turn-of-the-century dictionary, refers either to devilry and mischief or to magic arts and incantations.* Chesterton uses in the latter sense, as implying devilish magic – a use I found quite evocative.
That facility with language is actually the first characteristic I want to mention in my review. G. K. Chesterton is a good writer. I compared him to Dorothy Sayers, to Jerome K. Jerome, and to Charles Dickens – I stand by each of those comparisons, that to Dickens the most. His language is literate, it is evocative, and, most importantly, it is precise. Like a classical artist, Chesterton simultaneously makes his language beautiful in itself and makes it always serve the story.
Ah, but the story...! I cannot appreciate it.
The entirety of The Man Who Was Thursday, from start to finish, is an allegorical Christian apologetic. I am not a Christian, but as one who is vaguely familiar with the outlines of Christian theology, I must say it is so far as I can tell an excellent Christian apologetic. As an allegory, it is also skillful; thinking back on the early parts of the book I can recognize many references and suggestions that escaped me on my first reading. It is not until one passes the final revelation of the allegorical nature of the tale that Chesterton attempts any maneuvers that do not cohere without knowledge of the story's true meaning.
In fact, save for a few details about which I may easily be mistaken, and for the fact that I was able to easily guess part of a major plot twist long before it occurred, there is only one respect in which the book is less than stellar. And that is as a spy novel.
G. K. Chesterton would have been able to write an excellent spy novel, I am sure. His depiction of the tensions of his main character in the first part of the story, of hidden motives interacting with overt actions, of any number of the aspects of the "thriller" genre, are all masterful throughout the beginning parts of the story. Further, his apparent premise is ingenious, his flair for dramatic setting undeniable. I would even go as far as to say that for the first seven chapters (with the exception of Chapter IV) The Man Who Was Thursday is, in fact, an excellent spy novel.
However, to read the whole story as a spy novel is impossible. It begins to decline as a thriller shortly after those first seven chapters (although slowly), but at one point near the end the story transforms from dramatic to quite frankly farcical in the space of a few pages. However, close upon the heels of this sudden transformation comes the revelation of the allegory, which would probably redeem the change in the eyes of a Christian reader.
But not in mine.
* "Diablerie" is also a term which, according to Wikipedia, refers to a particular action that can be taken in the Vampire: the Masquerade et al. games from White Wolf. I image a number of modern readers will have a pretty odd reaction when they see the word in The Man Who Was Thursday.
That facility with language is actually the first characteristic I want to mention in my review. G. K. Chesterton is a good writer. I compared him to Dorothy Sayers, to Jerome K. Jerome, and to Charles Dickens – I stand by each of those comparisons, that to Dickens the most. His language is literate, it is evocative, and, most importantly, it is precise. Like a classical artist, Chesterton simultaneously makes his language beautiful in itself and makes it always serve the story.
Ah, but the story...! I cannot appreciate it.
The entirety of The Man Who Was Thursday, from start to finish, is an allegorical Christian apologetic. I am not a Christian, but as one who is vaguely familiar with the outlines of Christian theology, I must say it is so far as I can tell an excellent Christian apologetic. As an allegory, it is also skillful; thinking back on the early parts of the book I can recognize many references and suggestions that escaped me on my first reading. It is not until one passes the final revelation of the allegorical nature of the tale that Chesterton attempts any maneuvers that do not cohere without knowledge of the story's true meaning.
In fact, save for a few details about which I may easily be mistaken, and for the fact that I was able to easily guess part of a major plot twist long before it occurred, there is only one respect in which the book is less than stellar. And that is as a spy novel.
G. K. Chesterton would have been able to write an excellent spy novel, I am sure. His depiction of the tensions of his main character in the first part of the story, of hidden motives interacting with overt actions, of any number of the aspects of the "thriller" genre, are all masterful throughout the beginning parts of the story. Further, his apparent premise is ingenious, his flair for dramatic setting undeniable. I would even go as far as to say that for the first seven chapters (with the exception of Chapter IV) The Man Who Was Thursday is, in fact, an excellent spy novel.
However, to read the whole story as a spy novel is impossible. It begins to decline as a thriller shortly after those first seven chapters (although slowly), but at one point near the end the story transforms from dramatic to quite frankly farcical in the space of a few pages. However, close upon the heels of this sudden transformation comes the revelation of the allegory, which would probably redeem the change in the eyes of a Christian reader.
But not in mine.
* "Diablerie" is also a term which, according to Wikipedia, refers to a particular action that can be taken in the Vampire: the Masquerade et al. games from White Wolf. I image a number of modern readers will have a pretty odd reaction when they see the word in The Man Who Was Thursday.
