G.K. Chesterton Here is a special two-in-one book that is both by G.K. Chesterton and about Chesterton. This volume offers an irresistible opportunity to see who this remarkable man really was. Chesterton was one of the most stimulating and well-loved writers of the 20th century. His 100 books, and hundreds of essays and columns on a great variety of themes have made G.K.
G.K. Chesterton Here is a special two-in-one book that is both by G.K. Chesterton and about Chesterton. This volume offers an irresistible opportunity to see who this remarkable man really was. Chesterton was one of the most stimulating and well-loved writers of the 20th century. His 100 books, and hundreds of essays and columns on a great variety of themes have made G.K. Chesterton the most widely quoted writers of modern times. Here is Chesterton in his own words, in a book he preferred not to write, but did so near the end of his life after much insistence by friends and admirers. Critic Sydney Dark wrote after Chesterton died that perhaps the happiest thing that happened in Gilbert Chesterton's extraordinarily happy life was that his autobiography was finished a few weeks before his death. It is a stimulating, exciting, tremendously interesting book. It is a draught - indeed,
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Paperback
,
336 pages
Published
April 30th 2006
by Ignatius Press
(first published 1936)
Recommends it for:
Any lovers of GKC - not a good introduction to the man, though.
I can't believe it took me so long to read this book (I began it in 1993!) and how much I enjoyed it when I finally finished it. I've learned tons more about GKC since 1993, which all added to my enjoyment of finishing this book. (Subscribing to Gilbert! Magazine helped as well!) The first sentence remains my favorite, where Chesterton pokes fun at those who dismissed him as a non-thinker because of his love for Roman Catholicism:
Bowing down in blind credulity, as is my custom, before mere auth
I can't believe it took me so long to read this book (I began it in 1993!) and how much I enjoyed it when I finally finished it. I've learned tons more about GKC since 1993, which all added to my enjoyment of finishing this book. (Subscribing to Gilbert! Magazine helped as well!) The first sentence remains my favorite, where Chesterton pokes fun at those who dismissed him as a non-thinker because of his love for Roman Catholicism:
Bowing down in blind credulity, as is my custom, before mere authority and the tradition of the elders, superstitiously swallowing a story I could not test at the time by experiment or private judgment, I am firmly of opinion that I was born on the 29th of May, 1874, on Campden Hill, Kensington.
The rest of the book is punctuated with similar droll observations, and remains one of the most complete autobios ever written, as Chesterton finished it mere weeks before his untimely death at the age of 62 in 1936. While not heavy on personal details (if you want to get the full picture of GKC's life, read the excellent Wisdom and Innocence by Joseph Pearce), it is the remarkable commentary of a very humble man trying to assess his own life.
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My father loved Chesterton, and introduced me to the Fr. Brown stories when I was in high school. I've been on something of a Chesterton binge in the last couple of years, thanks to some local Chesterterrorists. I laughed out loud several times while reading this memoir, especially when GKC confesses that he intends to ignore the ordinary responsibilities of a biographer in his own case just as much as he did when writing about other authors: "I will not say that I wrote a book on Browning; but
My father loved Chesterton, and introduced me to the Fr. Brown stories when I was in high school. I've been on something of a Chesterton binge in the last couple of years, thanks to some local Chesterterrorists. I laughed out loud several times while reading this memoir, especially when GKC confesses that he intends to ignore the ordinary responsibilities of a biographer in his own case just as much as he did when writing about other authors: "I will not say that I wrote a book on Browning; but I wrote a book on love, liberty, poetry, my own views on God and religion (highly undeveloped), and various theories of my own about optimism and pessimism and the hope of the world; a book in which the name of Browning was introduced from time to time, I might almost say with considerable art, or at any rate with some decent appearance of regularity. There were very few biographical facts in the book, and those were nearly all wrong. But there is something buried somewhere in the book; though I think it is rather my boyhood than Browning's biography."
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William
It has actually "never been bettered" as a biography of Browning, to quote my PhD supervisor, himself the world's leading Robert Browning scholar.
Jun 28, 2013 11:49AM
Martin Moleski
Wow! I didn't realize GKC's work was that well received. Good for him!
Jun 28, 2013 04:17PM
William Goldman
Yes, but he tends to be underrated, as does C S Lewis
Jul 08, 2013 02:49PM
The photo on the front of this book says it all: G.K. Chesterton is a curmudgeon, and I have a weak spot for curmudgeons. Especially when they make me laugh out loud, while making extremely insightful observations. We read this out loud.
In his own initimable way, Chesterton jokes that earlier biographies he wrote on other lives never accomplished the task of telling the story of a person's life. In the same fashion, Chesterton concedes that the story of his own life is not comprehensively told in his autobiography. The outcome of this autobiographical sketch is an introduction into the places, people, and times which shaped G.K. Chesterton. Influential as these fixtures are in the understanding of Chesterton's life, it is the l
In his own initimable way, Chesterton jokes that earlier biographies he wrote on other lives never accomplished the task of telling the story of a person's life. In the same fashion, Chesterton concedes that the story of his own life is not comprehensively told in his autobiography. The outcome of this autobiographical sketch is an introduction into the places, people, and times which shaped G.K. Chesterton. Influential as these fixtures are in the understanding of Chesterton's life, it is the life and beauty of the Invisible God which directs the dramatic events that Chesterton experiences.
Chesterton enthusiasts probably never tire of his digressions into personalities, political events, and arguments that shaped late 19th and early 20th century Britain. But the Chesterton reader who doesn't consider himself an enthusiast will experience segments of the book that plod along. There is purpose in these encounters and stories for the narrative of Chesterton's life, but the impact is not directly theological. Chesterton the journalist is on center stage in the latter half of the book, before the concluding chapters which unite the opening stories of his childhood.
As I was reading these latter chapters on Chesterton's journalistic career, I sensed I would give this life story a 3-star rating, but the final two chapters brought the narrative into a cohesive whole that transformed its parts. I have a bad habit of leaving books unfinished when I plod through successive chapters that do not interest me. Had I not been reading this work with a reading group, I may have left this book unfinished. The discipline of a reading group proves the lesson and reward for finishing a work that isn't a "page-turner." The reward awaits at the end; not so much for a cliche twist, but for the sake of uniting the final components of a story into a cohesive whole. And the whole of the book is a worthwhile read, not simply for engaging Chesterton's story, but encountering Chesterton's God and the community that made Chesterton the man he was.
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Ah, reading this book was like taking a walk through early 20th century London with my favorite author, and hearing him ramble on about people he knew, places he's been en thought's he's had (of which there are many), his stream of words often broken by a low chuckle or raucous laughter, of his own because of memories such as dressing up as cowboys with George Bernard Shaw to star in a cowboy film made by James Barrie (author of Peter Pan), or putting up a satirical play in a toy theatre with H.
Ah, reading this book was like taking a walk through early 20th century London with my favorite author, and hearing him ramble on about people he knew, places he's been en thought's he's had (of which there are many), his stream of words often broken by a low chuckle or raucous laughter, of his own because of memories such as dressing up as cowboys with George Bernard Shaw to star in a cowboy film made by James Barrie (author of Peter Pan), or putting up a satirical play in a toy theatre with H.G. Wells, but also my own laughter due to his turns of phrase, his paradoxes and self-deprecation. In everything Chesterton writes, he cannot but write like Chesterton, which means: deep and entertaining, and going on wild tangents that illumine his subject without providing a logical exploration of it. He knows this himself, and apologizes for writing biographies that were not really biographies but essays the subject sometimes entered into. Here he does not give a structured story of his own life, but a rambling tale of the mystery of it, like a detective story, with the reveal at the end. I liked the early chapters and the last the best, and some in the middle were a bit anecdotal and required knowledge about edwardian English society that I did not possess. But these tougher passages too contain veins of hidden gold, and chestertonian reflections worthy of thinking about. The Authobiography illuminated for me a thread of Chestertons thought: that of appreciation and thankfulness - leading him to the Church, for how can you be thankful if there's no one to be thankful to? And his sacramental view, which indeed allowed him to be really thankful for the joy of the creator becoming visible in nature, in other people (even when he disagreed with them) and in the church, the holy mother, confession and the eucharist. Even when Chesterton moved from a more agnostic view to a more dogmatic view (even though I identify with him in a lot of areas, even his girth, I started out in a different position, that is: in a very strict and hard church, that didn't cloud the love of God by vagueness, as with Chesterton, but with rules and dogmatism) he never lost this appreciation, this joy for life, the ability to love others well and never become an ascetic. Chesterton remains an inspiration to me, and I hope to emulate his example. And to read a lot more of what he's written ...
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Wit and excellent storytelling abound in this book, although the false modesty irritated me sometimes. Chesterton's writing style resembles little eddies in a stream, always swirling around while moving along. The prose flows and is very readable.
No one deploys verbal paradox like Chesterton, but I wonder if his rhetoric doesn’t sometimes outpace his argument. The fireworks can feel like a distraction. I suppose that’s part of what makes him a pleasure to read. You want to trust him, but don’t quite. That said, this is not his best book, though there are some worthy passages, especially in the first two and the very final chapters.
Unfortunately, some of Chesterton’s bigotry comes through. I suppose we need to keep the times in mind. I s
No one deploys verbal paradox like Chesterton, but I wonder if his rhetoric doesn’t sometimes outpace his argument. The fireworks can feel like a distraction. I suppose that’s part of what makes him a pleasure to read. You want to trust him, but don’t quite. That said, this is not his best book, though there are some worthy passages, especially in the first two and the very final chapters.
Unfortunately, some of Chesterton’s bigotry comes through. I suppose we need to keep the times in mind. I suspect that if he had lived to see Nazi Germany revealed for what it was, Chesterston might have changed his tune on a few things. But reading his acknowledgment (in the mid-1930s) of a “Jewish problem” is disconcerting. And while I can fully sympathize with the anti-imperialist position that leads him to oppose the Boer War, Chesterton acknowledges that racial prejudice played a part too. Any lingering enthusiasm he had for the conflict seems to have faded when he learned that most of the “British” subjects under threat in South Africa weren’t actually white persons.
We can’t always expect our forebears to enjoy an historical perspective more readily available only after their deaths. Still, you like to think that Chesterton ought to have known better. Some of his contemporaries did.
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I found out a good deal I didn't know before about Chesterton, which is one of the purposes of an autobiography: for instance, I learned that he wasn't converted until he had written most of his famous novels, that he knew practically everyone of his time, and that he was, presumably, alive until at least 1936, when the book was published (I am dreadfully ignorant as far as timelines are concerned). I also had a few things reinforced about Chesterton which I knew already, which is perhaps the mo
I found out a good deal I didn't know before about Chesterton, which is one of the purposes of an autobiography: for instance, I learned that he wasn't converted until he had written most of his famous novels, that he knew practically everyone of his time, and that he was, presumably, alive until at least 1936, when the book was published (I am dreadfully ignorant as far as timelines are concerned). I also had a few things reinforced about Chesterton which I knew already, which is perhaps the more important purpose of reading an autobiography: I was reminded, for instance, that Chesterton is wonderfully witty, terribly concerned about ideas, and somebody whose philosophy I admire a great deal (he says that the great purpose of all artistic life is that "a man sitting in a chair might suddenly understand that he was actually alive, and be happy.")
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As Autobiographies go this is a terrible one! Not because he is a bad writer but because he doesn't really talk about himself at all. I did get a few great quotes out of this book, but all in all I didn't learn much of anything about G.K.C. I was particularly interested in his conversion and there was virtually nothing of that in there. I will need to find some good biographies on him in order to learn more as I am really interested to learn about the man that had such a huge influence on C.S. L
As Autobiographies go this is a terrible one! Not because he is a bad writer but because he doesn't really talk about himself at all. I did get a few great quotes out of this book, but all in all I didn't learn much of anything about G.K.C. I was particularly interested in his conversion and there was virtually nothing of that in there. I will need to find some good biographies on him in order to learn more as I am really interested to learn about the man that had such a huge influence on C.S. Lewis.
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"Autobiografría" es un lujo. G.K. Chesterton es una gozada de principio a fin. Y en este libro este loco de la sensatez y el sentido común expone su vida desde un ensayo que sirve para realizar un fresco vívido y locuaz de la Inglaterra de la época (política, imperialismo, historia...) sino además de sus ideas, sus amistades... todo hecho con un humor genial y un estilo inconmensurable. Imprescindible. Como todo Chesterton.
This is a generally enjoyable read. Chesterton shares a handful of fun anecdotes and ideas. Unfortunately there was quite a bit in between that was mostly meaningless to me. Id est, lots of information about specific people or events or systems about which I didn't have enough capital to appreciate.
(Also I read an old hardcover copy from my library that had a lot of great pictures dispersed through the pages.)
This is more a series of sketches than an autobiography. But many of them are quite good sketches. And there are some wonderful anecdotes as well. Just imagine Chesterton visiting the infinitely refined Henry James for the first time, and then Hillaire Belloc storming in dressed like a beggar looking for "Gilbert! Gilbert!" If this stuff were made up it wouldn't be realistic.
Tough read - GK is always amusing, and there are some great insights and musings he shared on his life, but much of this went over my head. It would help to be very familiar with turn of the century England to really understand what he's talking about. Fascinating man!
Chestertonian to the hilt. Not all chronological. Not all on definitions or straight lines. But in whimsy and character, insight and humilty-tinged humour, it is unsurpassable.
If you like Chesterton, you can't go w rong. If you don't, you've gone wrong.
Shows how Chesterton’s original, and optimistic genius could not have developed without his family background. And reminds one of how the twisted and pessimistic outlook of other geniuses was so often the fruit of a very different family experience.
Strategically and artistically placed beginning and ending chapters were beautiful and inspiring; middle chapters lagged, but provided many details about associations, influences, and contexts for his thinking and writing.
Picked this up just to browse through for any help with the Nelly project, but loved his prose - and some of it was pricelessly funny. I couldn't say I'd read every word, some of it was very dated, but some of it was so wise...
Li por aqui, em tom desabonador, que a retórica de Chesterton tende a superar o argumento. Não sei como isso pode ser visto como desabonador, já que boa parte da graça está aí.
Gilbert Keith Chesterton (1874-1936) was born in London, educated at St. Paul’s, and went to art school at University College London. In 1900, he was asked to contribute a few magazine articles on art criticism, and went on to become one of the most prolific writers of all time. He wrote a hundred books, contributions to 200 more, hundreds of poems, including the epic
Ballad of the White Horse
, fi
Gilbert Keith Chesterton (1874-1936) was born in London, educated at St. Paul’s, and went to art school at University College London. In 1900, he was asked to contribute a few magazine articles on art criticism, and went on to become one of the most prolific writers of all time. He wrote a hundred books, contributions to 200 more, hundreds of poems, including the epic
Ballad of the White Horse
, five plays, five novels, and some two hundred short stories, including a popular series featuring the priest-detective, Father Brown. In spite of his literary accomplishments, he considered himself primarily a journalist. He wrote over 4000 newspaper essays, including 30 years worth of weekly columns for the Illustrated London News, and 13 years of weekly columns for the Daily News. He also edited his own newspaper, G.K.’s Weekly.
Chesterton was equally at ease with literary and social criticism, history, politics, economics, philosophy, and theology.
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“No man knows he is young while he is young.”
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“But there is a way of despising the dandelion which is not that of the dreary pessimist, but of the more offensive optimist. It can be done in various ways; one of which is saying, "You can get much better dandelions at Selfridge's," or "You can get much cheaper dandelions at Woolworth's." Another way is to observe with a casual drawl, "Of course nobody but Gamboli in Vienna really understands dandelions," or saying that nobody would put up with the old-fashioned dandelion since the super-dandelion has been grown in the Frankfurt Palm Garden; or merely sneering at the stinginess of providing dandelions, when all the best hostesses give you an orchid for your buttonhole and a bouquet of rare exotics to take away with you. These are all methods of undervaluing the thing by comparison; for it is not familiarity but comparison that breeds contempt. And all such captious comparisons are ultimately based on the strange and staggering heresy that a human being has a right to dandelions; that in some extraordinary fashion we can demand the very pick of all the dandelions in the garden of Paradise; that we owe no thanks for them at all and need feel no wonder at them at all; and above all no wonder at being thought worthy to receive them. Instead of saying, like the old religious poet, "What is man that Thou carest for him, or the son of man that Thou regardest him?" we are to say like the discontented cabman, "What's this?" or like the bad-tempered Major in the club, "Is this a chop fit for a gentleman?" Now I not only dislike this attitude quite as much as the Swinburnian pessimistic attitude, but I think it comes to very much the same thing; to the actual loss of appetite for the chop or the dish of dandelion-tea. And the name of it is Presumption and the name of its twin brother is Despair.
This is the principle I was maintaining when I seemed an optimist to Mr. Max Beerbohm; and this is the principle I am still maintaining when I should undoubtedly seem a pessimist to Mr. Gordon Selfridge. The aim of life is appreciation; there is no sense in not appreciating things; and there is no sense in having more of them if you have less appreciation of them.”
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Jun 28, 2013 11:49AM