
I've delayed writing about this last chapter, due to my reluctance to end this wonderful book. But, as I've started reading our next selection,
The Poet and the Lunatics: Episodes in the Life of Gabriel Gale, and am enjoying it very much, I think it is time to conclude our study of
The Man Who Was Thursday.
Well, many readers get to this chapter, finish the book, and then say, "What in the world just happened?" Did that happen to you?
I have the "Annotated" Thursday, so I get a lot of extra stuff at the back of my book. For example, Martin Gardner, the person who annotated the book, includes, in the Appendix, all of the explanations Chesterton himself offered, during his lifetime, of his book. These (he explained himself at least 5 different times) are enormously helpful. He wrote it, he knows what he meant. Of course, readers read into it what they may, and that's good. So these aren't exhaustive or exclusive.
So, back to chapter 15.
The beginning is very interesting, of the six guys making their way to their chairs. The descriptions are wonderful:
--a robe of starless black
--the perfect pattern of black and white expressed the soul of the Secretary
--no smell of ale or orchards could make the Secretary cease to ask a reasonable question (I love that!)
--Syme was a poet who always seeks to make the light in special shapes
--dressed as a windmill, an elephant, a balloon, all things they've seen along the way
--like a living question
which reminds me that
ChesterTeens has a picture of a
cuttlefish. I think you ought to see a
hornbill as well, since it's mentioned several times in this book.
The seven great chairs reminds me of C.S. Lewis' four thrones in Narnia.
"But you are men. You did not forget your secret honour, through the whole cosmos turned an engine of torture to tear it out of you. I knew how near you were to hell. I know how you, Thursday, crossed swords with Kind Satan, and how you, Wednesday, names me in the hour without hope."
and Syme's moment of truth:
"I see everything," he cried, "everything that there is. Why does each thing on tyhe earth war against each other thing? Why does each small thing in the world have to fight against the world itself? Why does a fly have to fight the whole universe? Why does a dandelion have to fight the whole universe? For the same reason that I had to be alone in the deardul Council of the Days..."
And then, the break where the dream ends...I mean the nightmare ends, and the story resumes. And the great ending, Syme "felt he was in possession of some impossible good news, which made every other thing a triviality, but an adorable triviality."
Wow. A great book. A great rip-roaring jaunt through one man's enormous imagination. Wouldn't you like to chat with Chesterton, just once?