Help out Enchiridion

There is a Christendom student, who is planning on attending the Chesterton conference, who posted GKC's poem about Mr. Ford and a few comments about trying to understand distributism.

A fellow wrote back, and I think we here should be able to come up with a good answer to his comments, which are WAY off base. Here's what he said:

"...with all due respect, the Industrial Revolution happened. Commerce *is not a sin.* Indulging in agrarian fantasies is a waste of time! Indulging in a potbellied aristocrat's agrarian fantasies is almost uncharitable!

We need poets and critics who can make sense and beauty out of the present time, our time -- out of the suburban postmodern anomie that is our current experience. Pining for another time and another country which we never knew (and wasn't that great, anyway) is not very useful. Instaurare Omnia in Christo--this does not always translate to in Chesterbelloc."

FIRST of all, Chesterton could NEVER be described as an "aristocrat." That's pure nonsense. Saying that even *thinking* about Chesterton's distributism model is "uncharitable"? Huh?

Second of all, isn't he arguing that only the modern person can understand the modern age...

OK. Maybe you guys can come up with a retort and post it over there to help her out. The post is here. Thanks.

Rome discusses Chesterton and Harry Potter

Stratford and Leonie Caldecott were there.

Now This is a Summer Reading Program!

Ignatius Press says Happy Birthday to GKC

Chesterton and Friends Celebrates for 16 days

What a great idea (wish I had thought of it here, oh well, at least someone is doing it). Chesterton and Friends (specific post linked above) including writer's such as Furor (Nick Milne), Eric Scheske, Kyro Lanstberger, Alan Capasso and Lee Strong will be producing an extended and informative look at Chesterton's life and the Chestertonian Life during the period of May 29 to June 14 inclusive. These are the dates, of course, of Gilbert's birth and death, respectively, and it is our aim to present a microcosm of that life during this time.

From the first post, it looks very good.

The Distributist Review Celebrates Gilbert's Day

A Writer on Chesterton

Happy 132nd Birthday Gilbert Keith Chesterton!

Join us in prayer

If you are so inclined, please join us in praying for the work of Gilbert and the American Chesterton Society. We know that if the Holy Spirit guides us, we'll be on the right track, doing the work we should be doing. Thanks.

Gilbert Columnist

Gilbert columnist Kyro (an interesting name, I wonder where it comes from?) has written here on somewhat of the same topic as we had here and ties it in to the weekend holiday.

Literary Prizes

Chris Chan had a thoughtful essay in the last (March) issue of Gilbert on Literary Prizes.

I don't have that much experience with the Pulitzer or the Nobel, but being in the world of children's lit, I know about the Caldecott and the Newberry, and when I see those lists I often wonder if those aren't really the books children should avoid.

The children's lit books that are noticed these days often are referred to as "edgy" and "pushing the envelope." That means they want kids to deal with such issues as childhood abuse, gay parents, their own "emerging" homosexuality, or other such issues that used to be labeled "not for children."

The problem, as I see it, is that adults are deciding what is good for children to read. Adults who often have agendas. Adults who often have no children of their own. Adults who often swing left of center.

So I agree with Chan. He says, "Over the last several years there have been numerous writers whose work I find crude and whose views I find reprehensible that have won some of the world's top literary prizes."

Maybe we need a new literary prize. The Chesterton Prize. And only good writing that reflects the true, the good, and the beautiful can win. And that means good story-telling, honest to goodness characters, and a plot that goes somewhere. And the endings must make sense. And the detectives must leave clues so that the reader can follow the mystery. Let's start a fund for it.

Conference info for those attending and needing internet access

I'm passing along this information because I would have liked to have known this last year for the conference.

I checked into the computer situation over at St. Thomas, where the conference is. (Please note that on this map, it looks like parking is a millions miles away, when actually, you can park where the "W" is.) Here are the campus maps.

The closest library to the conference is the Archbishop Ireland Memorial Library. According to the library information, computers are available with internet access. Summer Hours are Thursday 8 to 8, Friday 8 to 4:30pm, and Saturday 10 to 5pm.

The library also notes they have outlets for laptops. In addition, there is wireless available, and it is supposedly also available in the dorms. You need a student ID and password normally, but I've researched this and found that guests can get 24 hours (renewable) for free.

So, your technology can come with you to the Chesterton Conference.

The Archbishop Ireland library information line is 651-962-5450 if you have any other library-type questions.

Fanaticism

I really liked Father Schall's essay on Fanaticism.

First of all, I was amazed that he found an essay of Chesterton's that he'd never read.

OK, here are the passages I loved:

"Already for a half century before his time, Chesterton noted something that is very common today, namely the view that religion is the origin of 'fanaticism.' There is a whole literature today whose thesis is that religion causes 'fanaticism.' Indeed, this is the major issue of our time, so that the taming or eliminating of religion is the way to peace....Scientists and politicians, Chesterton thought, are just as capable of being 'fanatics' as priests, perhaps more so."

"....mysticism has help men sane. It is the mystic who is open to all things, even if they seem at first not to make sense."

"[Chesterton] chastisied the Augustinians and the platonists for their withdrawl from things to contemplate the One as if they could not also find the One through particular things which after all originated in the same One."

"[Chesterton] was a Thomist...he held that logic will not save us."

And this, the best line of all:

"The "fanatical" concern about the religious cause of "fanaticism" has blinded us to the "fanaticisms" that stem from science itself and has caused us to misunderstand what it is within Islam that often makes it so "fanatical.""

Lost in Space

The editorial in the current issue of Gilbert might also be titled, "Lost in Science."

It was kind of a continuation of the Darwinian ideas from last month (it seemed to me).

It argued, and this was something I hadn't considered before, that if we ever did find life somewhere else in space, that despite our recordings of peace and music, they might just want to eat us for dinner.

That doesn't mean we can't go on looking for life out there, it just means that we can't be so sure that aliens will be like us, if there are aliens.

When I remember the nightclub scene from Star Wars, I know that in our imaginations, aliens are usually NOT like us. I suppose that's why we call them aliens. But then there are the "men are from mars/women are from venus" people who feel that even the opposite sex is an alien life form.

The editorial argues that Science's hidden agenda should be exposed.
I think it would be a difficult task to find a scientist who even agrees that there is a hidden agenda. Or a dogma. or a statement of faith.

Which then reminds me of Chesterton's statement about the two kinds of people: those who operate under dogmas and those who operate under dogmas but think they don't.

A Real Surprise

Well it's a darn good thing I have a good strong heart.
I was absolutely stunned today when the mail came.
Yes, folks, that's right. Stunned. And pleased.
The April/May issue of Gilbert actually came, hold the phone, IN MAY. And it's really not even close to being the end of the month.
Yes.
Rumors were rampant that the Gilbert people were attempting to "catch up" and trying to get back on schedule, but you know how things like that get around, and maybe they're true and maybe they're from people who just wish it were so.
But this, obviously, is the real deal.
They're catching up.
And it's a good thing I finished reading my last Gilbert last weekend.
Never have the issues come so close before where there was true danger of receiving a new issue before finishing the old one!

Oh. Here's clue for those of you following this story.

Go to the latest issue (April/May) to the last of the Tremendous Trifles. There is your clue.

Back from the Weekend

So, what's up?
Does anyone here care about the DaVinci Code? Did you do the "othercott" thing and see Over the Hedge?

I (finally) got a chance to read my Gilbert magazine front to back, and liked GKC's response to "Concerned About What People Are Reading"'s question (in the "Chesterton's Mail Bag" feature, which I enjoy reading--someone is very clever to dig through GK's stuff and come up with these questions!) about whether or not to condemn Da Vinci Code.

In other news, it did NOT rain at our art fair (yippee!) we did NOT take any special orders (ddoouubbllee yyiippee!!) and we made it home with only a very few Chicago traffic slowdowns (shew!). (For art fair information, see www.michaelbrown.com)

I am working on a speech, I won't give away the details, but will tell you it has something to do with evolution and an author and a blogg.

And, my eighth grader will graduate next week, and so I will officially become the parent of a High Schooler. Wow. Time flies.

Advice about The Surprise

Now, I'm asked if people should read The Surprise before the performance, as I just have.

I don't quite know what to say.

To be true to the title, and if you want it to really be a surprise, then I really recommend that you don't read it ahead of time, as I just did.

In one way, I spoiled it for myself, having read it yesterday. However, it was so good, that I'm reading it again today, this time with a highlighter.

And now I can't wait to see it performed, because I think it will be very powerful. But in a little way, I wish I hadn't read it, so that the surprise could really shock me when it comes.

So there. I don't know if I've given anyone any advice or not. You decide.

The Surprise

I really, really, really would love to read The Surprise before seeing it at the Chesterton Conference. I haven't found it anywhere. Was it published? Has anyone ever read it?

And secondarily, who is putting it on? Who are the actors? How did they become involved in this?

Ignatius looks at Chesterton's Autobiography

See Where Mr. Ahlquist is This Week

ACS Conference Secret

I got a mailing today from the ACS asking me to come to the conference, did you get yours?

I'm already signed up, so I just browsed throught the brochure, looking forward to some great speakers.

But I know a secret about the conference, a presentation that will be made, that's not on the brochure!

Which is appropriate, because one of the really fun things I'm looking forward to is a live production of Chesterton's play called "The Surprise" which was never produced during his lifetime.

I'll tell you when: Right before Joseph Pearce talk. (Which is right before "The Surprise" is staged.)
I'll tell you who: A twelve year old Chestertonian.
I'll tell you what: Something about The Ballad of the White Horse
I'll tell you what else: It will bring you to tears. Or at least, the women in the audience. Maybe even the men. It will be that amazing and surprising.

I hope you're coming, because it will be a real treat.

Evolution Editorial

from the latest Gilbert:
(Regular type is the editorial, italics is my question/commentary)

Evolution

The discipline of science arose within a Christian intellectual climate.
Anyone want to dispute this?

Yet this debt of origins is vigorously denied by secular scientists, who persist in promulgating the fiction that science is opposed to religion in general and Christianity in particular.
Why do they do this? What purpose does it serve them? What proof can they offer than science didn't arise within a Christian intellectual climate?

They present with persistent but false claims that science and religion are opposed when it comes to evolution.
Are you saying they are being dogmatic about their claims?

The problem, unfortunately, is compounded by other almost equally vocal scientists who, in their defense of religion, deny scientific evidence for evolution, easily playing into their opponents’ hands.
Someone's ignoring something here. For there is, indeed, evidence for evolution. Where's our Fr. Jaki expert? Doesn't he have something to say about this, being both a scientist and a religious man?

As always, we are fortunate to have G.K. Chesterton as our guide. Chesterton was not a critic of evolution per se, but he was a critic of Darwinism.
The media, the culture, and the school system often treat the two as one, don't they?

He was not afraid of scientific theories (providing they were scientific) but he was very much a critic of making social and religious philosophies based on scientific theories: “Science must not tell us what to think any more than the telephone must tell us what to say.”
Why must science not tell us what to think? Isn't that what scientists are searching for? The answers to life's questions, and therefore the ability to be able to think scientifically, which would greatly improve society, which tends to think dogmatically in religious terms?

Class, I'm out of town (writing this from the public library in downtown Birmingham, MI), so I'll leave this to you to discuss this over the weekend.

P.S. If the first paragraph of this editorial intrigues you, go get your subscription right now and ask to start with this issue. Then you can find out how our supremely talented editorial board concludes this editorial.

Get Your Own Gilbert

Naturally, you want your own Gilbert. And we want you to have it. It's really very simple.

You can either:
Pay $35.00 and subscribe to Gilbert,

or

you can join The American Chesterton Society for $35 and get a membership PLUS a Gilbert subscription.

You math majors will be able to figure this one out pretty quickly.

Gilbert Here: Darwin

The "Darwin" issue should have arrived in your mailbox by now, with an illustration of Darwin atop a turtle with a finch on his head.

It seems to me as though Chesterton handled the evolution people well 100 years ago, his arguments still work, and can be used today.

I think it good to note that at least four of the "trifles" mentioned in the editors column were first noted right here on the ACS blog.

Any articles you particularly enjoyed or provoked thought?

Chesterton's Uncanny Predictions

John Peterson has collected a bunch of these, and I'll post them from time to time. Here is one that is timely:

Preliminary: From Frank Sheed's "Compilers Note," The End of the Armistice (1940)

"A word of explanation is needed as to how this book came to be. I was reading through a mass of Chesterton essays with the idea of selecting enough of them to make a book rather like The Thing. But I had not been reading long before I realised that, as far back as the middle twenties and continuously up to his death in 1936, his mind had been dominated by the present war. It is scarcely too much to say that he took it for granted as a simple fact of future history. That is to say he saw it not as possible, nor as probable, but as a thing already on the way and humanly speaking, certain to arrive. He saw how it would arrive. Germany would attack Poland; he saw closer still, that Germany would do so in agreement with Russia.

"Now when a man is as right as that in his forecasts, there is some reason to think he may be right in his premises. That is why I have sorted out and arranged these essays as his analysis of the whole problem of Germany in Europe."

1926. "It is infinitely more likely at this moment that wars will be waged for the possession of oil-fields than it ever was that they would be waged for the possession of hop-fields. It is much more likely that a million men will die because there is oil in Mexico or Mesopotamia than that even a hundred will ever die because there are vineyards in Burgundy or orchards in Hereford." (Illustrated London News, 5/22/26)

From the post office

I had a letter today, a sort of confession, from a Past-Clerihew Judge admitting that he/she had a tin ear for rhyme.
I think that explains a lot.

More Clerihew Advice

A Clerihew Complaint (sent to me via John Peterson)

by Gramps

My friends, a heavy sense of duty requires me to add my voice to the chorus of complaints against the Annual Midwest Clerihew Contest.

However, I am not going to complain about the judges. Instead, I am going to
complain about the contestants.

Mine is not a general complait. No, in general, I find our clerihews of a very high quality, as clever as they are absurd. Can any conception be more pleasantly preposterous than that of Jim Wenders when he mixes up the cello with T.S. Eliot’s Four Quartets? What could be more deliciously gouche than Joe Theriault’s description of St. Peter as “a toughie named Rock”? And how do we top the impertinent anachronism of Father Max Barrett, who thinks Adam and Eve quoted St. Augustine? No, these conceptions are sufficiently outlandish to satisfy the most fastidious of students of the clerihew.

My complaint is simply that too many of our clerihew contestants seem to have only the vaguest conception of what is meant by the word “rhyme.” Clerihews are supposed to rhyme. In fact, it is the rhyming that offers most of the challenge and much of the fun of this elusive verse form.

It is true that rhyme is a matter of the sound of words, and regional differences in pronunciation can make us differ about how words are properly pronounced. I know some Yoopies who think “boat” rhymes with “go at.” But it is not regional differences that I am complaining about here.

My friends, “invention” does not rhyme with “Jim Henson,” nor does “boardman” rhyme with “Michael Jordan,” nor does “fame to all” with “Andy Warhol,” nor “the cello yet” with “T.S. Eliot,” nor “old” with “Helmut Kohl,” nor “at a mall” with “Bernard Shaw,” nor “stilton” with “Edward O Wilson,” nor does “understanding” rhyme with “Cardinal Manning.” They don’t rhyme.

Yet all of these appeared in clerihews that won prizes or honorable mentions in recent Chestertonian clerihew contests.

Perhaps our poets are confusing the requirement for irregular rhythm with a call for irregular rhyme. I don’t know what is causing this failure. And I’m certainly not saying that a word can’t be twisted and bent and tortured in order to get a rhyme out of it. That’s the fun of it. When E. Clerihew Bentley told us that “the Duke of Wellington was reduced to a skellington,” he was pushing the clerihew to a new plateau of applesauce.

He also said of Newton that “some people will have it he discovered gravity” and gave us “the friends of Mr. Pendlebury his body in the end’ll bury” and “said Mr. Gladstone, the land thou formerly hadst—own!” and “Mr. F. Anstey drank, when he had the chance, tea” whilst GKC was offering “Solomon you can scarcely write less than a column on” and “Lawrence Olliphant observed ‘what a jolly font!’ ”

Midwest clerihewists, let us declare war on the boring rhyme as well as the non rhyme. What is the fun and where is the wild invention in rhyming “tune” with “moon” or “sun” with “fun”? Lost opportunities all.

Let’s go for it!

David Beresford, did you really rhyme “Kipling” with “sing”? In a poem that speaks respectfully of drinking gin, did not the word “tippling” even flit across your mind? No?

Dale Ahlquist, could you not improve on “back” as a rhyme for “black”? In a poem about the tribulations of the Hebrews, I would hope for something at least as foolish as having Pharaoh appeal to “Abednego, Meshach, and Shadrach.”

And surely, John Peterson, you could have found something, anything, more amusing to rhyme with “Lois Lane” than the bland and obvious “must be insane.” You could have reached for “using legerdemain” or at least tried “champagne, cocaine, and/or hurricane.” But the ho hum “insane”? Please.

No rhyming bright spots, then, Gramps? Well, for those who are somehow still reading this harangue, I will admit to having some admiration in the Rhymes Department.

I think Ron McCloskey was out and out inspired when something made him write of the Egyptian Queen, “Maybe Cleo had B.O.”

I would have given all available bonus points to Mike Foster for his grotesque,
“Sir Lancelot wore iron pants a lot.”

And I would award as big a bonus to Jim Wenders for “by our folly, peccatum originale.”

Also the 1996 contest sorely missed Frances Farrell’s well-crafted nonsense, such as her outrageous “Venus de Milo was heard to sigh low” from 1995.

So, I challenge all future clerihew contestants to aim higher (or do I mean lower?) and shun the shopworn, Tin-Pan-Alley, Golden-Oldie rhymes of the June-moon-croon-tune-swoon-soon variety. Let’s reach for the fiddlesticks! And I also challenge the judges to run roughshod over all lazy rhymesters of the future.

I suppose you readers expect me to end this column with a silly and showy rhyme. Sorry, but that’s not the kind of columnist I’m. # #

A Report on the Rochester, NY Chesterton Day

Thanks, Liz. It was fun to read your report, and sounds like it was a wonderful day. Thanks for posting and for hanging out here, too.

An Thorough Explanation of Clerihews from John Peterson

What Is a Clerihew?

Chestertoniana
by Gramps

Here, for all you accomplished as well as aspiring clerihewists, is a brief discussion of that elusive literary form. We will note the clerihew’s peculiarities and give some recent examples—as well as examples from the clerihew’s early heyday.
Edmund Clerihew Bentley, Chesterton’s boyhood and lifelong friend, invented the form of light verse called "the clerihew" in about 1893 when was sixteen years old.
The first clerihew from Bentley’s pen, if not brilliantly funny, does show all of the distinguishing features of the form:

Sir Humpry Davy
Detested Gravy.
He lived in the odium
Of having discovered sodium.

Thus the clerihew was, and ever has been, a verse of four short lines, rhyming AA-BB, with a studied irregular rhythm. Bentley’s clerihews have one, two, or three beats (or accented syllables) to the line, and four-beat lines are rare.
The subject is invariably biographical, and it is almost always the case that the first two lines are built upon rhyming the surname of some personage of celebrity or notoriety (as in the above example, Davy / gravy). This rule is analogous to the limerick’s convention of ending the first line with a geographical location (as in Edward Lear’s "There was an old man of Quebec," or "There was a young lady of Portugal"). The opening two lines of Bentley’s clerihews show this feature clearly:

‘No sir,’ said General Sherman,
‘I did not enjoy the sermon.’

Rupert of the Rhine
Thought Cromwell was a swine.

The views of Pizarro
Were perhaps a little narrow.

In the above examples, we note that the second line comes to a full stop, making the two lines a so-called "closed couplet," and that also is a characteristic of the early clerihews.
Much of the wit or foolishness of clerihews derives from the rhymes, which range from the humorously flat-footed, to the brazenly outrageous. Thus Bentley insisted on
rhyming chorus / ichthyosaurus — Binks / Sphinx — get any /litany — Compt / romped — annoyed / spheroid— in toto / photo —Belloc / ad hoc and Lord Rosebury / nose bury.
The final couplet of the four-line clerihew concludes with a foolish or clever comment on the life and times of the famous or infamous subject of the poem. Here are examples of Bentley’s clerihews:

Professor Dewar
Is a better man than you are.
None of you asses
Can condense gasses.

Martin Tupper
Sang for his supper;
Though the supper wasn’t nice,
It was cheap at the price.

It was a weakness of Voltaire’s
To forget to say his prayers,
And one which to his shame
He never overcame.

Of course Ranjitsinhji
Was quite right not to be stingy,
But I never could quite see the relevance
Of his keeping nine thousand elephants.

Whether an insipid foolishness or a lurking cleverness is the essence of the clerihew’s comedy, has been disputed. The humor on display in many of Chesterton’s clerihews stemmed from a studied distortion of history, which might remind one of a clever young school boy who has not quite mastered his lessons:

Whenever William Cobbett
Saw a hen-roost, he would rob it.
He posed as a British Farmer,
But knew nothing about Karma.

Richard Brinsley Sheridan
Is now a buried one.
He was not a Goth, much less a Vandal,
As he proved by writing The School
for Scandal.

But humor in the early clerihews ran just as often to satire, pure nonsense, verbal tricks, and other clever displays of wit. The following, by Bentley, is one of my personal favorites (because it makes me laugh right out loud):

Adam Smith
Was disowned by all his kith,
But he was backed through thick and thin
By all his kin.

Ah, taste, there is no accounting for it! What is in and out of clerihew fashion these days may be judged from the variety of approaches and styles taken by winners of the Annual Midwest Clerihew contest in the most recent four years:

One March day, Julius Caesar,
With cannibalistic fever,
Refused his bread and garlic roots
And ate two brutes.
~ Joe Theriault (1992)

G.K. Ches-
terton, unless
you sort of stretch the rules, doesn’t fit well into
a clerihew.
~ Dale Ahlquist (1993)

Noah’s
Boas
Kept his hares
In Pairs.
~ Sue Lampi (1994)

Aristophenes
Was terrified of Bees.
He hid from them in bogs
And made the acquaintance of Frogs.
~ Jennifer Accardo (1995)

It remains my firm conviction that the clerihew is the easiest of the light verse forms to write. However, writing a really good clerihew is another matter entirely.
Good or bad, we can say with some confidence what the attributes of the clerihew are to be summarized thusly: a clerihew is a humorous, unmetrical, biographical verse of four short lines—two closed couplets—with the first rhyme a play on the surname of the subject.
Rather than conclude with such stuffiness, let us end with another favorite, this one penned by Judith Harden of Westland, Michigan, to win first prize in the Writer’s Digest clerihew contest of 1991:

George Orwell
Answered the doorbell.
Big Brother’s Pizza at the door,
Two with pepperoni, $19.84.

Tally ho! # #

(Thanks, John!)

A Portugese Blogger

His name is Pedro Ventura, which translates to "Peter Happiness" in the translation program I used for this page.

I am not quite sure what the "Far from Lepanto" name exactly means, or even if I have it translated correctly, but Senor Ventura wanted us to know about him, so here it is.

This one is too good

A developer from GK Development in Barrington, IL wants to build a big box store in Chesterton, Indiana.

Naturally, Chesterton opposes the big box store development.

A Racehorse in Aussieland named Chesterton

Highly unusual. They don't mention how the horse got his interesting name.

Ladies and Gentlemen: Start Your Clerihews

I am not sure whether or not I should admit this. Last year there were threats of hangings for this type of heresy at the Chesterton conference. Last year, at the Chesterton conference I was a {shh--looks furtively both ways} Clerihew Judge.

I doubt whether anyone who reads this blog is unfamiliar with Clerihews, but just in case, it is a form of poem, invented by Chesteron's good friend, Ed Clerihew Bentley, the name taken, as you can see, from Mr. Bentley's middle name.

A detailed description of how to write such a biographical poem is here.

I suggest that even if you think you know how to write one, you may wish to re-read the rules. Because after last year's judging, it was apparent that there are very few skilled in the ways of the Clerihew.

That said, I suggest sharpening your pencils. Because the all new and improved 2006 Clerihew contest is going to take place at the 2006 American Chesterton Society Annual Shin-Dig taking place in just about 7 weeks. And we NEED some {good} Clerihews! Clerihews that really are Clerihews. And the judges, a-hem, have read the rules and will eliminate any that don't follow good form.

I'd really like to see some great Clerihews this year, so why not start now?

We're in the News!

Naturally, I think we had an "in" because the author of this column for NCR(egister) is our own beloved Eric Scheske, former editor of Gilbert magazine.

But it is still very cool that he did a column on Chesterton.

Hurry Up with those Essays

The Gilbert and Frances Scholarship deadline is today.
I know a few college kids that have applied, I hope they win!