A man like Mr. Shaw has the deliberate intention of getting people to listen to what he has to say; and therefore he must be amusing.

Have left this far, far too long. Can't remember most of the books I've read since... when did I last post here? July? :-/ Wow. Sorry. I've done tons of reading since then, but time has placed too large a barrier in between me and most of the books, so I can only give you the few recent ones I remember well enough.

Common Sense 101: Lessons from G. K. Chesterton

I love G. K. Chesterton and his work - but, oddly, not as much as the author of this tome - a Dale Alquist. In theory this book was a really good idea - and it still is, if you can get past the irritating voice in which it's written. The author's reverence for Chesterton becomes overblown and annoying really really quickly - and I found his zealous adherence to Chesterton's (sometimes inaccurate/fallacious) beliefs and policies infuriating. The first half of the book is readable; the second half annoyed me to the point of writing furiously in the margins - which I have never done before in my life. Chesterton and Alquist both have a very poor understanding of the differences between Catholicism and Protestantism; I can deal with Chesterton's ignorance because firstly, he writes with wit and humour and secondly, he died in 1936. Alquist has no humour - his style comes across as somewhat whingy and his dogma is clumsy and has none of the elegance of Chesterton's.
I'm not going to dissect all the problems that I have with the assertions made in the second half of the book - if you want a sensible, clear-headed analysis of the Catholic/Protestant question read Nothing in My Hand I Bring by Ray Galea - which I meant to discuss in this blog but never did (oops!).
The first half of Common Sense sums up Chesterton's inimitable, original viewpoints on journalism, education, God, poetry, science, democracy and lots of other topics - the hero worship is a little overdone, but if you want a quick and concise introduction to Chesterton, read the first fourteen chapters.




Diary of a Nobody by George and Weedon Grossmith

 It might sound like an odd thing to say, but to me this book felt just like a cross between Diary of a Provincial Woman and Three Men in a Boat - though it was more like the former than the latter. Would love to see the musical!




The Happiest Refugee by Ahn Do

I have already expressed my love of autobiography here - particularly my love of autobiographies in which the author can look back with gratitude and perspective. This is definitely one of those books. Though some of the stories are heartbreaking, terrifying, even, the book is told with genuine affection and a lovely sense of hope breathing through it. I'm not familiar with Ahn Do's other work - in comedy and film, but this book has got me interested!


George Bernard Shaw by G. K. Chesterton

I really enjoyed reading Chesterton's opinions and analysis of Shaw (who was a good friend and rival of his) - I was quoting and highlighting away all through this slightly patronising but very loving interaction with the life and works of one of last century's most famous playwrights. I wasn't quite sure what to take away from the book in the end - but as a pleasant journey through Shaw and Chesterton's brilliant brains, it was quite sufficient.

A Man's Brain Must Expand, If It Takes Up The Universe!

Reading: The Man Who Was Thursday by G. K. Chesterton This is the first of Chesterton's fictional works that I have really been able to get into - and it's pretty unputdownable! Chesterton's prose is as unexpected and strangely lyrical as his philosophical work. Not finished it yet, but enjoying very much. Murder on a Midsummer Night by Kerry Greenwood This book... was OK. I mean, not badly written, nice imagery, cool 192o's setting, pretty usual murder mystery plotline (although the plot really isn't the point of the book, one realises) and the protagonist was perfect. Don't get me wrong, that doesn't mean I liked her. Phryne Fisher (catchy name, much?) is the self sufficient daughter of a baronet; she's a private detective, stunningly gorgeous and graceful, socially adept, art critic, gourmet, owns a lovely big house in Melbourne with two adopted daughters. Her problem? She has no problems. I found Phryne incredibly annoying in this respect - and her habit of walking all over the other characters really got to me by the end of the book. And the fact that she has a casual sexual relationships (not to mention her continually blase attitude towards debauchery in general - I mean, one passage had me wondering if she had experimented with bestiality. Ew.) just seemed implausible, considering the setting. The Female Brain by Louann Brizendine This book is rather different to those above... in that it isn't a novel, let alone a mysterious thriller. It's a book about how women's brains are different from men's.I found it very interesting and informative - plenty of stuff that I'd already figured out for myself, but it's nice to have scientific writing backing you up, isn't it? I was annoyed by all the 'when we were cavemen' imagery - particularly considering that I have read other (secular, if it matters to you) scientists decry the use of such outdated anthropological suppositions as 'neanderthal man' and his animalistic behaviour. Oh, and Louann Brizendine is a big advocate for hormone therapy, which I'm not entirely cool with. But certainly a fascinating read.

There is a great deal of difference between an eager man who wants to read a book and the tired man who wants a book to read.

Back again...

So, recent reading.

I've been away lately with my family - only just returned. This time I only took a few books with me and *trumpet blast* my kindle! Which is fantastic in terms of lightweight luggage, but not so brillliant considering I only have about 15 books on it at present, and those are free classics from google books and the book depository. So, of those I have been reading a great deal of G. K. Chesterton and a little J. M. Barrie. Chesterton wrote a ton of detective stories, plays, newspaper articles, Christian apologetics - but besides all this he wrote a ton of essays. 4000 essays. Seriously.
So of the two books of his that I finished, one was a book of essays. I don't agree with everything Chesterton says all of the time - I mean, for example, he wasn't in favour of female suffrage because none of the women he knew wanted it... whenever I hear that argument I just want to scream at the person, 'Dude! You need to get out more!' Like young artists who say they don't know anyone who isn't in favour of gay marriage. I mean, I'm not saying you have to change your opinion, folks, but please, please, be a bit more broadminded. The fact that you don't know anyone who has a different opinion doesn't mean yours is the only one - it does mean that you're limiting your experience of people to those that are just like you - and that's unhealthy.

Back to Chesterton. The man was a genius. Even when I don't agree with him (and I rarely disagree with him) his mastery of words and ideas nearly convinces me in spite of myself. Pure genius. And he had a fantastic sense of humour, which interweaves everything he writes. I can't really give you an idea of everything I read of his, so I can't critique it properly - the subjects ranged from politics to gender roles to economics to culture - without breaking stride. Go, find one of his books, and read it. I actually prefer the essays and apologetics to the fiction.


I haven't yet finished reading The Little White Bird by J. M. Barrie, but I am fascinated by it. I almost would like to hand it to a trained psycologist and get them to analyse Barrie's deepest darkest mind. If you've read any biographical material about Barrie, you'll understand.
That besides, it's quite a charming book, once you get used to the odd, sarcastic, introspective viewpoint of the narrator. The story is from the perspective of a middle-aged man who covertly watches a young woman go through the stages of courtship, marriage and motherhood, before becoming non-anonymously a part of her life through a friendship with her little son. It's strange. I'll have to read the rest before I can form a full opinion.


I'm also re-reading The Light Princess by George Macdonald, which is a beautiful 'light'-hearted but deep-souled fable. If you ever see a copy at the library or a bookshop, snag it for yourself and read it. Only 110 pages, but totally worth it. I have the Maurice Sendak illustrated paperback - but if you want an ebook here it is.