Chesterton is full of cynicism and hope

 I recently reread Tremendous Trifles, a collection of essays by Gilbert K. Chesterton from the early part of the last century. And when I say recently, what I actually mean is that I would read an essay when I wanted to take a break from something else I was reading. So, all in all, it took me about five months to read the whole thing and I only stopped because I ran out of essays.

Tremendous Trifles wouldn't make my top ten books by Chesterton. Which doesn't mean it isn't worth reading. It just means that I would recommend you read some of his other works and only pick up Tremendous Trifles if you decided that you wanted to become a Chesterton fan.

I also realized that reading the book stretched out the way I did this time was actually a better way to do it. Because if I had read the whole thing in a day or two, it all would have blurred together and I'd have only really remembered or been struck by one or two things. However, treating each essay as its own little standalone bit. (Although I can accept the argument that reading it all at once and only taking a couple gems away means you singled out the best of it)

Two aspects of Chesterton (who is a complex literary figure and if you hate him, I think there are valid reasons for doing that) that really struck me over my months of casually reading this collection. One is his charming, almost twee way of presenting the world as a more simple, more innocent place than I have any reason to think that it is. Showing the world as a literal fairy tale.

And then there are the single sentences that hit me right between the eyes with their brutal and accurate cynicism. Something that makes me think "That's true. That's still so true' 

Just picking one essay, the Riddle of the Ivy had 'And the American has become so idealistic that he even idealises money' and 'In a cold, scientific sense, of course, Mr. Balfour knows that nearly all the Lords who are not Lords by accident are Lords by bribery'

Lord knows I don't agree with everything that Chesterton wrote (Don't even get me started on The Flying Inn) However, he sometimes writes something that I feel cuts right to the bone of a topic and I didn't even know he was holding the knife. A thought that seems so relevant that I feel like it ought to have been written last week, not over a hundred years ago.

I have many friends who despair over the state of the world and the sky is falling. Chesterton, I suspect, would say that the sky has always been falling. At the same time, I think he would also say that doesn't mean we should be complacent. That the fact that we are still here doesn't mean we will always be here but that we need to always be struggling.

Going back to the hidden depths of the Paradoxes of Mr. Pond

When I first decided to start reading Gilbert K. Chesterton in college, the first book I found in the college library was the Paradoxes of Mr. Pond. Ironically, that was also the last mystery book he wrote. And, while not it’s one of Chesterton’s greats, it is still a fun, enjoyable read.

(Although, to be fair, Chesterton’s fiction seems to be break down to the Father Brown stories, the Man Who Was Thursday, and then everything else. I have no idea how to rank his writing past those two works. Frankly, if you like his quaint and quirky style, you will like any given book.)

The Paradoxes of Mr. Pond is a collection of mystery stories about a bureaucrat who is able to figure out what’s really going on in seemingly nonsensical situations. Sometimes, he actually solves the crime and other times he just explains it. 

I recently reread the collection because I wanted to reread just one of the stories, the Ring of Lovers. The title is a pun because the story has both a ring sent by a lover and a group of men gathered together because a husband knows one of them is having an affair with his wife.

Rereading the story after I was older made much more of an impression on me when I had a better idea of what it was really about. The point of the story isn’t about the crime, it’s the realization of Mr Pond’s friend Captain Gahagan that getting invited to this party meant people thought he was that kind of guy and that didn’t sit well with him. 

Having read a lot of Chesterton since I first read the Paradoxes of Mr Pond, it’s not hard to see parallels between the book and his other works. The quiet but vastly observant Mr Pond can’t help but remind me of Father Brown. Captain Galahan feels like a more flawed version of Flambeau.

But the work I really found myself thinking of was The Man Who Knew Too Much. Horne Fisher and Mr Pond are both characters who know quite a bit about the underside of politics and human nature. However, Fisher ends up jaded and fatalistic by his experiences while Mr Pond uses his understanding and knowledge. It feels Chesterton explored the disillusioned idealist with a Fisher and the practical humanitarian with Pond.

I went back to the Paradoxes of Mr Pond because of one story but I knew I would get the most out of it by reading the whole book. While it is a collection of short stories and they were originally published in magazines (Heck, the collection wasn’t published until after Chesterton’s death), there is still an overall larger story in it. Captain Gahagan has a definite character arc. And there is a definitive message about being responsible, even when the world doesn’t seem to encourage it.

The Club of Queer Trades is a little taste of Chesterton

Every year or so, I reread Gilbert K. Chesterton’s Club of Queer Trades.

It’s not because it’s one of his masterpieces. In all honesty, The Man Who Was Thursday and any given volume of Father Brown are Chesterton’s truest masterpieces in my eyes. And I can think of other books by him, The Man Who Knew Too Much or the Paradoxes of Mister Pond, that I also think are much stronger.

So why do I keep rereading it? Well, because it’s a quick read but still carries the charm and wit that made Chesterton so brilliant and so much fun. I am always finding new books to read by Chesterton and rereading others but The Club of Queer Trades is a reliable little sip of Chesterton.

A collection of six stories, The Club of Queer Trades is bound together by the idea that the characters are discovering strange situations that turn out to people who have come up with entirely new ways to make a living.

The detective role in the stories is held by Basil Grant, a former judge who is definitely whimsical and who might also be a little insane. Amusingly, a reoccurring character is his brother Rupert, who actually is a detective, although apparently not a very good one. And, at the end, it’s pretty obvious Basil solved most of the mysteries by already knowing what was really going on.

Two of the stories have really stuck with me over the years.

The collection starts with The Tremendous Adventure of Major Brown, which is the strongest story in the book and up there in the Chesterton cannon in general. It elevates the whole book.

* SPOILERS * SPOILERS* SPOILERS*

Major Brown apparently has stumbled across a conspiracy to kill him. In actuality, he actually got mixed up with someone who subscribes to a service that is basically a LARP. The fact that the queer trade actually exits now just adds to my entertainment.

I also like how the actress involved in LARP ends up falling for Major Brown because she knew lots of men who were brave when they knew it was fake but Major Brown is the only man she knew who went down into a cellar believing a killer was waiting for him.

The other story that remains with me is the Singular Speculation of the House Agent. The twist is that the man sells tree houses, which is also a real profession these days. However, what made it stick with me is how well Chesterton describes the characters dreamy, twilight journey through wilderness to find that tree house.

The Club of Queer Trades isn’t a perfect book. While it’s bound together by an idea, it doesn’t have the thematic through line that Chesterton’s later books have. It isn’t the book I’d use to introduce someone to Chesteron’s fiction (that’d be the Innocence of Father Brown, by the way) But it is a nice Chesterton snack.

http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/1696