Showing posts with label Father Brown. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Father Brown. Show all posts

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Chestertonian Homework Help

I recently had an email from a young University student who thankfully is studying Chesterton. Since there aren't Spark or Cliff notes for Chesterton's work, students can feel at a loss for help with Chesterton assignments.

I'll post her question first:
We are to write about the moral discoveries that Father Brown made in “The Mistake of the Machine.” However, I am having a very difficult time since, as I stated above, I can not fully grasp what the writing means.
So here's my answer:
I guess I want to suggest reading it again, with some thoughts in mind. There are two very major themes in this story. One is that Man is NOT a machine, although Father Brown calls Man a machine several times, just to confuse you. But the contrast of Man and Machine is a theme. Can a machine tell one the truth? Can a MAN tell one the truth? Can a machine lie? Can a man lie? Can a machine read a man's heart (motives, for example)? Can a person act in a way contrary to his human nature?

The second theme is the assumption of who a person is based on appearance.

Both of these themes take place within the conversation between Father Brown and the Governor/Detective Greywood Usher, Greywood taking the "scientific" view point, Father Brown taking the more reasonable, faithful view point, the view point that allows for man to act as a man, and not as a machine (scientifically, in other words, science cannot explain a man's motives, his "heart") which was brought out in the beginning by talking about blood and circulation, etc. The word blood is repeatedly used, in both scientific terms and in terms of class "blue-blooded" etc. to emphasize the assumption that blood makes a man what he is, which science or even aristocrats may believe. But a rational person like Father Brown knows that blood is just blood, and tells one nothing about man's soul.

So, I hope I've pointed you in the right direction and given you some clues and hints to work from.

Chesterton is difficult. I totally understand that. When I had to read Chesterton in college, I really, truthfully, hated it, because I couldn't understand it. But hang in there, he does get better with time.
And the young student said it helped her write her paper. So there you go, we'll call them ChesterNotes.

Monday, October 26, 2009

Israel Gow: The Movie

Have you seen it on EWTN? Need to see it again? Order it here.

Friday, October 02, 2009

EWTN: The Honour of Israel Gow

Theater of the Word, Episode 8: The Honor of Israel Gow: A Fr. Brown Mystery will have one prime-time airing in addition to the regular time slots. So the complete list of airtimes is:

Thursday, Oct. 15 at 10pm Eastern

Wed., Oct. 21 at 1pm Eastern

Thurs., Oct. 22 at 5am Eastern

Sat., Oct. 24 at 4pm Eastern

I've seen this. It premiered at the Seattle conference. It's great, and I can't wait to see it again!

If you don't get cable or your cable doesn't have EWTN, you can watch it on line streaming live. Be sure to check your time zone.

Monday, January 12, 2009

Father Brown

I'm working on a project that involves Father Brown, and it has taken about three or four readings of the same story each time for me to be truly amazed at Chesterton's depth of knowledge about everything.

Right now, I'm working on the Perishing of the Pendragons, and there is an amazing amount of nautical information in there. Did Chesterton have to look things up to write that? I doubt it.

And his vocabulary! Yesterday, I was making french toast with my girls, and we were sprinkling the pieces with cinnamon, and I was reminded that Chesterton used a word in the book mentioned above that I had to look up. This word
cop·pice (kŏp'ĭs) n. A thicket or grove of small trees or shrubs, especially one maintained by periodic cutting or pruning to encourage suckering, as in the cultivation of cinnamon trees for their bark.
coppice, which I was unfamiliar with. Since the definition mentioned cinnamon, I remembered it when we were making french toast.

Chesterton's vocabulary was HUGE. Enormous. WAY bigger than mine. I'm looking up words at least twice per page. And every time, my amazement at him grows.

Here is just a short list of words I've looked up. See how many you know:
mousquetaire
osiers
prow
funnel (in a ship sense)
piebald
fissiparous
paling (in terms of a fence)
spud (not in terms of a potato)

Monday, December 29, 2008

NRO Interviews Father Brown (as played by Kevin O'Brien)


Kevin O'Brien was recently interviewed by John Miller of National Review Online, and it's quite interesting. Listen here.

Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Ahlquist and GKC go to IHOP

From Dale:
I just returned from EWTN where Chuck Chalberg taped his segments as G.K. Chesterton for the 5th season of “The Apostle of Common Sense”, which will be aired next fall. I was down there in August, taping my segments along with the dramatic vignettes (featuring, among others, the infamous Stanford Nutting, played by Kevin O’Brien). We also taped an entire Fr. Brown story, “The Honour of Israel Gow” which will be included in Kevin’s upcoming “Theatre of the Word” series for EWTN. “Israel Gow” will have its premiere at the Chesterton conference in Seattle in August. It’s going to be really good! I saw a first edit while I was at EWTN this week, and I was very impressed with the high quality of the production.

Chuck and I arrived late in the day and started taping right away in the evening. At the end of the shoot, we needed to be fed, and the only place open was the local International House of Pancakes. There was no time for Chuck to change out of costume, so GK Chesterton went with me to the IHOP. The amazing thing is, no one noticed. In fact, he wasn’t even the most interesting looking person there!
Thanks for the update, Dale, sounds like a fun time.

Now we all have an extra reason to get ourselves to Seattle in August: to see the debut of The Honour of Israel Gow.

Monday, December 15, 2008

Father Brown, Columbo, and Kevin O'Brien

Kevin O'Brien was interviewed by National Review Online Thursday about Father Brown and the audio book. The interview will be a podcast and will be put up next week sometime on NRO and also on itunes. (I'll give you the link when Kevin sends it.)

Also, Kevin'll be on "The Journey Home" live Monday night (Dec. 15) on EWTN talking about his conversion, and Chesterton's role in it. And he'll be on EWTN's "Bookmark" talking about the audio book as well - though he doesn't know when that airs.

One of the things he discovered in preparing for these interviews was confirmation that Columbo was based in part on Father Brown.

This is from "How We Created Columbo" by the creators themselves, Levinson and Link.
When we created Columbo, we were influenced by the bureaucratic Petrovitch in Crime and Punishment and by G.K. Chesterton's marvelous little cleric, Father Brown. But [Peter] Falk added a childlike wonder all his own. He also added the raincoat. We had given Columbo a wrinkled top coat in our play, but during the filming of "Prescription: Murder," Falk dug out one of his old raincoats from the back of a closet and never took it off. He wore the same suit, shirt, tie, and shoes for the entire 10 year run of the series, giving "Columbo" the somewhat dubious distinction of having the lowest budget for male wardrobe in the history of the medium, with the possible exception of Big Bird.
Kevin would like to give special thanks to Dr. Thursday who helped him prepare for the interview.

Be sure to watch EWTN tonight!

Tuesday, December 09, 2008

What have you done lately to promote Chesterton?

The ACS exists to promote Chesterton. YOU are the ACS. Together, we try to figure out ways to promote the work of one of our favorite journalists.

Ways to help: Become a member of the ACS. Give gift subscriptions to Gilbert for Christmas. Read Chesterton. Quote Chesterton. Try to obtain a Chestertonian way of thinking and responding to the arguments of the day. Use logic and reason and a heavy dose of humor. Start a Chesterton Society in your local area. (Anyone want to form one half way between Milwaukee and Chicago?) Join a local Chesterton Society in your area. Attend the annual Chesterton meeting this coming August in Seattle. Watch the EWTN shows of The Apostle of Common Sense. Order the DVDs for your family and friends. Invite people to your house and have discussions and debates along with the steak and potatoes, cigars and wine.

If you are a student, ask your teachers to teach Chesterton. When you write a paper, quote Chesterton. When pondering a moral or ethical situation, read Chesterton.

What am I doing? I'm currently working on my second childrens adaptation of Father Brown mysteries. After that...oh ho! A writing project for homeschoolers and high schoolers using the work of Chesterton to help students learn to write. After that...another adaptation, but not Father Brown...

What are you doing? Any interesting ways of promoting Chesterton? I'd love to hear about it.

Friday, October 03, 2008

Re-reading Father Brown

I was just re-reading a Father Brown story this morning (The Wrong Shape) and realized that it never registered with me that Father Brown was at St. Mungo's. That's the third time that name has come up recently, and it is also a name used by JK Rowling in her books.

Who is St. Mungo?

OK troops, I'm heading to St. Louis for an art show, and contrary to all that's good, the hotel looks like it charges for internet, something which goes against my natural thriftiness. Unless I can get a free connection, I won't see you till Monday. Have a good weekend!

Thursday, May 22, 2008

Demons and Democracy: the Strange Color of the Nearby

(If you are reading along: Orthodoxy Chapter IV "The Ethics of Elfland" first five paragraphs CW1:249-252)

I told you last week there would be no demonism on our adventure into Elfland... and there won't be. Except in one punning way, which is one of the really beloved lines spoken by Father Brown. You will perhaps disagree. I think it reveals his humility, and the too-easily forgotten fact that priests must themselves confess their sins:
"I am a man," answered Father Brown gravely; "and therefore have all devils in my heart."
[GKC, "The Hammer Of God" in The Innocence of Father Brown]
One of the prayers the priest says at Holy Mass hints at this authentic view of the priesthood:
"Accept O Holy Father, Almighty and Eternal God, this spotless host, which I, your unworthy servant, offer to You, my living and true God, to atone for my numberless sins, offenses, and negligences; on behalf of all here present and likewise for all faithful Christians living and dead, that it may profit me and them as a means of salvation to life everlasting. Amen.
But we are not here to examine liturgy... but rather demon... ahem, excuse me. I mean democracy.

No, not as in the opposite of "Republican"! (And I thought I was skating on thin ice with the reference to magic. Hee hee.)

But - as I warned you last time, you must pay very close attention to the words here. There will be some words you know, and perhaps have some strong feelings on - like "democracy" and "liberal" and "tradition". Most importantly you need to know that these terms are being used in their full, classical, "rich" or perhaps "proper" sense (in heraldry, something "proper" means it is shown in its true colors), and emphatically not as political terms.

You are puzzled. We have crossed a bridge, into a world which I have rather carefully avoided naming (though you are all writing "May 22 - entering Elfland" down in your hiker log books). You thought we would be meeting strange, remarkable, unexpected, surprising creatures - hobbits and elves or dwarves (dwarfs, if you are not a Tolkien person) or maybe Milo or Bastian or that Poppins woman - or at least Spock or E.T. or even Mr. Potter (it is a wonderful life, you know?) And instead I bring up GKC's drudgery of what sounds like government or maybe education. Oh, how surprised you'll be... we shall indeed meet some remarkable creatures. You must be bold... and you will be surprised!
Wave wand here if you feel bold.

Now, having mentioned Milo, the bored hero of The Phantom Tollbooth, you will be surprised, as I was, in what we find in the very first sentence from our chapter:
When the business man rebukes the idealism of his office-boy, it is commonly in some such speech as this: "Ah, yes, when one is young, one has these ideals in the abstract and these castles in the air; but in middle age they all break up like clouds, and one comes down to a belief in practical politics, to using the machinery one has and getting on with the world as it is."
[CW1:249, emphasis added]
If you've never read that book, you must know that "The Castle in the Air" is the prison to which the princesses of Sweet Rhyme and Pure Reason were banished, and the demons guard the path to it... Ah, so you are starting to feel something? Good, good. It's starting, then.

The start is a bit slow. As usual, GKC uses a rather complex analogy, drawn from his own late Victorian youth, and the world he knows, to try to explain something even more complex. It is a kind of parable, laden as usual with verbal fireworks, and a confusing term or two, but it contains something striking, which is like chrome. For "the strong chromium" as a friend of mine says, "has the strange color of the nearby". Yes, chrome and so many metals act as mirrors when polished. And this is the first kind of magic GKC reveals to us.

We must understand what GKC is doing. He now has "to trace the roots of my personal speculation" - that is, explain how he started to get to HIS view of things, which is so different from what we saw in the previous chapters. He believes in "Liberalism" - but not in "Liberals". Note! I have no time to give you the grand explanation of what these words meant in England of 1908 - but that precision hardly matters to us. You will see it clearly, as in a mirror (!) very shortly, as GKC proceeds. But... if you find this too confusing, read these lines:
They said that I should lose my ideals and begin to believe in the methods of practical politicians. Now, I have not lost my ideals in the least; my faith in fundamentals is exactly what it always was. What I have lost is my old childlike faith in practical politics. ...

I was brought up a Liberal, and have always believed in democracy, in the elementary liberal doctrine of a self-governing humanity. If any one finds the phrase vague or threadbare, I can only pause for a moment to explain that the principle of democracy, as I mean it, can be stated in two propositions. The first is this: that the things common to all men are more important than the things peculiar to any men. Ordinary things are more valuable than extraordinary things; nay, they are more extraordinary. Man is something more awful than men; something more strange. The sense of the miracle of humanity itself should be always more vivid to us than any marvels of power, intellect, art, or civilization. The mere man on two legs, as such, should be felt as something more heartbreaking than any music and more startling than any caricature.
[CW1:249-250]
(Yes, there's a ref. to Manalive where a telegram reads "Man Found Alive With Two Legs" - what you haven't read it yet? Get busy.)

Verbal fireworks? Or words on fire doing work? You will hunt very hard to find a real politician, in either England of 1908 or America of 2008, who acts on these terms, who sees the miracle of humanity.

But (you say) I thought you said it wasn't going to be about politics?

GKC dragged it in, not me. But proceed, and be surprised:
This is the first principle of democracy: that the essential things in men are the things they hold in common, not the things they hold separately. And the second principle is merely this: that the political instinct or desire is one of these things which they hold in common. Falling in love is more poetical than dropping into poetry. The democratic contention is that government (helping to rule the tribe) is a thing like falling in love, and not a thing like dropping into poetry. It is not something analogous to playing the church organ, painting on vellum, discovering the North Pole (that insidious habit), looping the loop, being Astronomer Royal, and so on. For these things we do not wish a man to do at all unless he does them well. It is, on the contrary, a thing analogous to writing one's own love-letters or blowing one's own nose. These things we want a man to do for himself, even if he does them badly. I am not here arguing the truth of any of these conceptions; I know that some moderns are asking to have their wives chosen by scientists, and they may soon be asking, for all I know, to have their noses blown by nurses. I merely say that mankind does recognize these universal human functions, and that democracy classes government among them. In short, the democratic faith is this: that the most terribly important things must be left to ordinary men themselves - the mating of the sexes, the rearing of the young, the laws of the state. This is democracy; and in this I have always believed.
[CW1:250]
Now, the well-read Chestertonian will immediately hear the echo of a very famous quote: "if a thing is worth doing, it is worth doing badly." [GKC, speaking of Woman in What's Wrong With the World CW4:199] And, for completeness, this idea of "blowing your own nose" also appears in Heretics, and I leave it for anyone who wants a nice workout side hike; you can find it in CW1:203.

Again, you are wondering: where is the magic? Where are the strange beings?

YOU ARE SEEING THEM. Elvish zoologists call them "humans". (You'll find out about the magic soon enough.) GKC supposes that there is some fundamental law which underlies all sorts of things - which he sums up in the idea that we ought to do certain things for ourselves, as much as we possibly can. (In another context, this idea is a part of the design method called "Subsidiarity" - an ancient idea, and part of Catholic Social Teaching, and about which I have written elsewhere.) But as a broadly used term in government, not delving into the depths or distinctions of some governing mechanism, "democracy" means "rule by the people" - the people choose the arrangements. Like Athens of long ago... Ah, so nice. The splendid happy life of ancient Greece and all that. Houses, Senates, meetings, elections... Ahem. But GKC does not sit and bask in the Mediterranean warmth. He reveals some real depths to this supposedly well-known term, and gives us some singularly rich insights:
But there is one thing that I have never from my youth up been able to understand. I have never been able to understand where people got the idea that democracy was in some way opposed to tradition. It is obvious that tradition is only democracy extended through time. It is trusting to a consensus of common human voices rather than to some isolated or arbitrary record. The man who quotes some German historian against the tradition of the Catholic Church, for instance, is strictly appealing to aristocracy. He is appealing to the superiority of one expert against the awful authority of a mob. It is quite easy to see why a legend is treated, and ought to be treated, more respectfully than a book of history. The legend is generally made by the majority of people in the village, who are sane. The book is generally written by the one man in the village who is mad. Those who urge against tradition that men in the past were ignorant may go and urge it at the Carlton Club, along with the statement that voters in the slums are ignorant. It will not do for us. If we attach great importance to the opinion of ordinary men in great unanimity when we are dealing with daily matters, there is no reason why we should disregard it when we are dealing with history or fable. Tradition may be defined as an extension of the franchise. Tradition means giving votes to the most obscure of all classes, our ancestors. It is the democracy of the dead. Tradition refuses to submit to the small and arrogant oligarchy of those who merely happen to be walking about. All democrats object to men being disqualified by the accident of birth; tradition objects to their being disqualified by the accident of death. Democracy tells us not to neglect a good man's opinion, even if he is our groom; tradition asks us not to neglect a good man's opinion, even if he is our father. I, at any rate, cannot separate the two ideas of democracy and tradition; it seems evident to me that they are the same idea. We will have the dead at our councils. The ancient Greeks voted by stones; these shall vote by tombstones. It is all quite regular and official, for most tombstones, like most ballot papers, are marked with a cross.
[CW1:250-251]
If you don't already know it, "tradition" comes from a Latin verb, trado which means "I hand over, hand on, pass on" - and "I entrust". So many things you have, and think of as your own, have actually been handed on to you, often with great expense and at great effort on the part of others who were holding them in trust... you are so used to them you have forgotten where they came from - and (alas) you are most often utterly unaware of the power, the intense and extraordinary thing (for which "magic" might be the only good term) that you are capable of wielding with them.

What, for example? Do you really need me to tell you? OK: by what power are you reading this? (I don't mean the computer; I mean your ability to read, and to understand what I have written.) Your language is a tradition. No revolutionary, no "liberal" - in our modern sense - can escape it. Every science, every field of study presupposes language as a basis for its work; in that sense, even the hardest of the hard sciences is just another Liberal Art.

Ah. But consider this sentence again: "Tradition is the democracy of the dead." Are you starting to feel something powerfully magical here? Not just the idea of fairy tale, of some fanciful story told in the nursery. No; the idea that something - ah, like a magic wand - something almost unimaginably powerful was given to you long ago - given as your very own inheritance - and you've always had it. But you never really paid any attention to it, never thought of it as important: that odd wooden stick you've carried, dangling from your belt, or the sparks that flew out when your hand is near it... You don't like that hint of the "m" word? Then think of a pencil in your pocket, and its graphite smears on your hand. (Milo is given such a wand by the Mathemagician.) Not personal enough? Then how about speech? You do not even understand the power of your tongue? Why are so many powerful things attributed to speech? (Read the Epistle of St. James for details!) You have indeed inherited rich, oh, so rich, gifts. You abandon or neglect them at your peril.

One more paragraph brings us to the end of today's leg of our journey, and it is a very elegant summary of today's topic:
I have first to say, therefore, that if I have had a bias, it was always a bias in favour of democracy, and therefore of tradition. Before we come to any theoretic or logical beginnings I am content to allow for that personal equation; I have always been more inclined to believe the ruck of hard-working people than to believe that special and troublesome literary class to which I belong. I prefer even the fancies and prejudices of the people who see life from the inside to the clearest demonstrations of the people who see life from the outside. I would always trust the old wives' fables against the old maids' facts. As long as wit is mother wit it can be as wild as it pleases.
[CW1:251-2]
That word "ruck" is not a typo. (Yes, I had to look it up; I like to look things up, it's fun, you can find so many other things while you are looking!) "Ruck" means "the undistinguished multitude, the crowd of ordinary persons or things". It is one of GKC's favourite topics - you can find all kinds of references throughout GKC's writing to "The Common Man" - there's even a book called that.

GKC wants us, just to begin with, to see ourselves in a mirror (the magic thing with the strange color of the nearby!) It is magic, not because of the mirror, but because of us. We are unusual, we are marvels, we are extraordinary - because we are simply ordinary. And we have not even ventured into preternature (the land of fairy and magic), much less supernature (the Land of the Living, where He dwells in Whose image we are made.)

So - the next time you see a mirror, stop and behold the image and the likeness of God. A broken, sad, weak, confused, often whiney, nasty, mean and rude image, perhaps insanely preferring a demon as a model - but still His image: "For religion all men are equal, as all pennies are equal, because the only value in any of them is that they bear the image of the King." [GKC, Charles Dickens CW15:44] Nothing in the kosmos, except the Most Blessed Sacrament, is as holy as a human being. (Today, for much of the world, is the feast of Corpus Christi, which is transferred to this coming Sunday in the U.S.) Father Brown hints at this great credal mystery:
"It's the first effect of not believing in God that you lose your common sense, and can't see things as they are. Anything that anybody talks about, and says there's a good deal in it, extends itself indefinitely like a vista in a nightmare. ... all because you are frightened of four words: 'He was made Man.' "
[GKC, "The Oracle of the Dog" in The Incredulity of Father Brown]
Yes - one of the effects of reading GKC is we start seeing things as they are. Even in mirrors.

--Dr. Thursday

PS After writing this - and I did it AFTER lunch this time: I find that I have not been of much help at all on this leg. I shall ask you to read GKC's five paragraphs by yourself, and think about them. They are worth it. You will find yourself in awe of such company as we have, both living, and traditional.

Thursday, February 28, 2008

Thursday's Dr. Thursday Post: Infinity

It may be a stretch of the imagination to connect last Sunday's gospel (the woman at the well) with our discussion of last Thursday - or perhaps not. The woman's "madness" was shattered - as if a spell was broken - by the Voice of Authority who told her "Go get your husband". So deep was her restoration that she was able to bring others to that same fountain... Ah. But for today I shall resist plunging into the deep waters this imagery brings up.

In thinking of insanity, and Lent, I must bring to your attention one of the most unusual and perhaps most insightful views of a gospel event I have ever read. The event is the "Good Thief" hanging in crucifixion next to Jesus - an apologist defending Christ even on Calvary! "We are but suffering as we deserve - but This One has done nothing wrong... Lord, remember me when You come into Your Kingdom."

The insightful view is not mine. It is contained in the rich notes and the amazing play-sequence, "The Man Born To Be King" of Dorothy L. Sayers (DLS), a series of radio plays she wrote on the life of Christ. I don't have the text here to transcribe, so I shall merely give you a hint of her argument. She claims that the Good Thief perhaps took Jesus to be a harmless nut-case - a crazy man - YET - the thief still treats Him kindly, and "plays along" - only to receive a most unexpected reply. The scene DLS only hints at is the one I love to ponder: for behold, later that day, the Lord would tell the thief, "Nope, I wasn't nuts, but it was kind of you to think so. The charity you showed to the harmless lunatic You showed unto Me!" A strange, yet somehow most dramatic view. Read it for yourself.

I had previously thought I would write up a "proof" about GKC's interesting mathematical bit about the circles, but there will be more of this philosophical geometry before you know it, and I don't feel like making such a long detour today. So let us proceed. We have finished GKC's comments on lunacy and madness - which he expresses using the mystery of the circles: infinite in one sense (for it has no end) yet still not so very large (for it is no bigger than it is drawn). We have seen an omnibus labelled "Hanwell" and thought about those unfortunates who believe themselves to be chickens, or glass, or Kings of England, or Jesus. We have heard of the limits of literature, the risks of reason - and been challenged to cut off our own head if it offends us. What is all this? Why are we seriously contemplating insanity? GKC has a reason, and not merely a poetic one.

Click here to continue the adventure.

GKC tells us himself what he is up to:
I have described at length my vision of the maniac for this reason: that just as I am affected by the maniac, so I am affected by most modern thinkers. That unmistakable mood or note that I hear from Hanwell, I hear also from half the chairs of science and seats of learning to-day; and most of the mad doctors are mad doctors in more senses than one. They all have exactly that combination we have noted: the combination of an expansive and exhaustive reason with a contracted common sense. They are universal only in the sense that they take one thin explanation and carry it very far. [CW1:225]
We might take this as the bridge-passage, the musical riff that brings us from Heretics to Orthodoxy. Recall that in Heretics we saw a long line of men - writers, thinkers, philosophers - men whom GKC respects, even admires - some of whom he would readily claim as friends - and yet men with whom he is in bitter and utter disagreement: "a Heretic - that is to say, a man whose philosophy is quite solid, quite coherent, and quite wrong." [Heretics CW1:46]

Those men are the men LIKE the lunatics. Note he does NOT say they ARE lunatics! He is not pulling an ad hominem argument. He is talking about a general idea, dealing with the IDEAS of those men. What does he tell us about them? He says those are the men with the SMALL PATTERNS, even though they are "infinite":
But a pattern can stretch for ever and still be a small pattern. They see a chess-board white on black, and if the universe is paved with it, it is still white on black. Like the lunatic, they cannot alter their standpoint; they cannot make a mental effort and suddenly see it black on white.[CW1:225]
He proceeds to give an example (about materialism) but almost immediately points out that he is NOT making an argument about the detail, but about the generality. He links the flaw in the materialist view of the kosmos back to the flaw in the man in the asylum. It may be true enough. But it is so much smaller a truth than can be found elsewhere.

I hope you are reading along with me - and so you will readily note that it is futile for me to try to skip the example. GKC himself tried to do that. In one of his amazing leaps, he goes from that example to a stark generality of epistemology (the study of knowledge itself): "In one sense, of course, all intelligent ideas are narrow. They cannot be broader than themselves." [CW1:226] It is the paradox of words, the strangeness of a homework assignment like "Define 'infinity' and use it in a sentence." It hints at another mysterious line of GKC's which he put in another mystery: "Alone on earth, the Church affirms that God himself is bound by reason." ["The Blue Cross" in The Innocence of Father Brown]

Whew, let's stop for a bit. Do you feel stuck in a swamp of ideas? You are wrong. It's the brisk fresh air. You are at a peak of a mountain, and seeing a vista. It's at these points where you feel most congested, you are actually most free, and actually presented with a greater wideness of vision than elsewhere. So let us pick this matter apart so we can grasp where we were and better handle where we're going next. I can't do all the epistemology, I didn't bring that in my knapsack today. Let's see if we can deal with it directly. Let's read it again:

"In one sense, of course, all intelligent ideas are narrow. They cannot be broader than themselves."

The point of the paradox is we can handle things far bigger than our hands - because we have words which can reduce infinity to eight letters. (Count them: I, N, F, I, N, I, T, Y.) The strict philosophers will now throw eggs at me, saying I have committed the "Fallacy of Equivocation", confusing the word "infinite" and the idea "infinite". But I catch the eggs, and scramble them to make our lunch. They are not reading along. (Recall "poetry floats on the infinite sea"...) It would be just as adequate for me to cite the Summa of Aquinas (I Q10 A1) to help them out, since they like that kind of citation, it shows I do read those kinds of things. Ahem! But for us, this "paradox" is as simple as this mountain-peak. We're stopped here - and need to choose a path. But we can choose ANY direction - as long as it's down. (We are walking, you know; remember we said last week, "let it be solved by walking".)

The "fallacy of equivocation" is a kind of error in logic, in the use of words. How about an example? Here's one: saying "God is limited because he is only three letters long". But GKC is telling us there is the same kind of error in saying "we cannot hold the idea of 'infinity' since it is INFINITELY BIG". It is a paradox in reason itself, not merely written by GKC, to state without further quibble, that Infinity is narrow, and God is limited. This is not because of the things-in-themselves, but because of our equipment. (We are on a journey, we are NOT going EVERYWHERE AT ONCE. We are walking, and so are SOMEWHERE.)

I will try once more. (This one is great, and will shock any computer scientists in the audience.) Watch carefully, and I will use YOUR computer to represent BIG integers, including for example, the number of electrons required to fill the sphere bounded by the diameter of the most distant galaxies. Or, even bigger: the factorial of that number. Or even bigger: that number raised to its own power... that many times. Big numbers. BIG big numbers. HUGE numbers. (Even more than GKC weighed.) I can even use the computer to deal with transfinite numbers, the mysterious "aleph-one", which is the cardinality of the real system of numbers. And there are even others... Wow, look: before your very eyes, all those things are being communicated by what I have just written! HAVE I NOT COMMUNICATED THEM TO YOU? Of course I have. They are formally represented - as ideas. No, not directly as tick-marks on a sheet of paper or tokens in a box. (Please. Don't be silly. When was the last time you saw 1000 of ANYTHING? We gave that up about 5000 years ago, when the Egyptians began to write Ç to stand for "ten".) You cannot represent such gigantic numbers by that means. It is like asking how much God weighs. It does not have meaning. But you can communicate the idea of such numbers - which means you have communicated the number. The idea of such vast quantities has a meaning, and so we can accomplish the communication of that idea. And if we failed to say it in symbols of mathematics, we would resort to the symbols of poetry: I think of "Tonight" in "West Side Story":
Today the minutes seem like hours,
The hours go so slowly...
And still the sky is light...


That is what GKC is saying. In order to talk about anything, and reason about anything, we use something narrow. We do not have the infinite time or an infinite box of tokens to play around with the real thing, so we use what we can.

OK. Maybe it was futile - I ought to stick to my own toys - so let's resume with GKC, and I will let the high-tech philosophy for others to play with. Perhaps this next sentence will tell you the same thing, which is just GKC's own version of the very important Principle of Contradiction: "Nothing can be, and not be, at the same time."
A Christian is only restricted in the same sense that an atheist is restricted. He cannot think Christianity false and continue to be a Christian; and the atheist cannot think atheism false and continue to be an atheist.
[CW1:226]
Again, please read this carefully. You need to think about the simple sentences, not about some deep quippy insult or brag. You can put in any partisan or sectarian words you like, and it has JUST the SAME meaning and power. YOU ARE ON A PEAK of FREEDOM, my friend, not stuck in a swamp! Try it again. Then we'll proceed.

Now that you have a NEW tool, then, we shall actually approach this example of materialism - and its opponent, spiritualism. (We are using the terms rather generically here; materialism means there is nothing but material: nothing spiritual at all. Whereas spiritualism means there also exists an unseen realm.)

I shall quote at length again, because you are surely tired of reading MY words, and also because the "verbal fireworks" here are SO good:
...there is a very special sense in which materialism has more restrictions than spiritualism. Mr. McCabe thinks me a slave because I am not allowed to believe in determinism. I think Mr. McCabe a slave because he is not allowed to believe in fairies. But if we examine the two vetoes we shall see that his is really much more of a pure veto than mine. The Christian is quite free to believe that there is a considerable amount of settled order and inevitable development in the universe. But the materialist is not allowed to admit into his spotless machine the slightest speck of spiritualism or miracle. Poor Mr. McCabe is not allowed to retain even the tiniest imp, though it might be hiding in a pimpernel. The Christian admits that the universe is manifold and even miscellaneous, just as a sane man knows that he is complex. The sane man knows that he has a touch of the beast, a touch of the devil, a touch of the saint, a touch of the citizen. Nay, the really sane man knows that he has a touch of the madman. But the materialist's world is quite simple and solid, just as the madman is quite sure he is sane. The materialist is sure that history has been simply and solely a chain of causation, just as the interesting person before mentioned is quite sure that he is simply and solely a chicken. Materialists and madmen never have doubts.
[CW1:226-7]
(An aside: if you are wondering who "McCabe" is, you can read his chapter in Heretics CW1:157 et seq. Joseph McCabe (1867-1955) was a Roman Catholic priest turned rationalist.)

And while I greatly doubt that you can possibly be satisfied with my writing, here I must leave you for today. Please try to think a little about these things. Not about the math, or about the epistemology, the knowledge OF meanings of words and ideas - but ABOUT the meanings, and the ideas.

Still lost? When we think about our mother (let us say) we do not think about her picture, but about HER. But when we talk about her, we may show the picture, or use that six-letter word - but everyone knows who it is we are talking about, even if they have never met her or seen her. IN THE SAME WAY: when we think about infinity, we do not think about that splendid and funny little proof of the math dudes about "increasing without bound" or about a bottomless box of tokens - nor simply about that eight-letter word - but we use that word to talk to others about, as I have just done with you.

And this limited limitlessness applies even to the matter of God, which we do not narrow to a mere word of three letters, and Who has even more meaning and even more intimacy to us than our very mothers...

Onward to the next the peak, dudes!

--Dr. Thursday

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Dr. Thursday's Post

An exploration of Orthodoxy: the beginning

One of my duties here in the E-cosmos, as in the outer, or Real world - yes, John Mayer, there really is such a thing, as I am sure he asserts every time he goes to cash his album royalty check. But then Chestertonians know that "No sceptics work sceptically." [GKC St. Thomas Aquinas CW2:542]

Sorry, I've wanted to say that for some time. (Incidentally I rather enjoy that song, but the philosophy is silly.) Ahem. I shall start again.

One of my duties here in the E-cosmos, as in the Real World, of which this blogg is just a small and unplottable fragment, is to provide an interesting counterbalance to certain topics. It gets me into hot water - but then (as GKC remarks) "I believe in getting into hot water. I think it keeps you clean." (ILN Mar 10 1906 CW27:142) Though it can be frustrating, for the audience as well as for me.

So, in keeping with this Chestertonian scheme of keeping clean by getting into hot water, I have decided to talk about 1908 and what happened then. Everyone knows that 2008 is the centennial of Orthodoxy, one of GKC's most important books - and I will begin my exploration in the usual Chestertonian way - by talking about something else. Like Father Brown.

Click here to continue reading.

You see, there is a very important centennial coming up in the Fall (I mean Autumn) of this year which may be slightly overshadowed by our celebration of the centennial of GKC's "slovenly autobiography". [CW2:215] That event was the Eucharistic Congress of 1908, held in London... or have you forgotten these stirring words?
Flambeau was in England. The police of three countries had tracked the great criminal at last from Ghent to Brussels, from Brussels to the Hook of Holland; and it was conjectured that he would take some advantage of the unfamiliarity and confusion of the Eucharistic Congress, then taking place in London.
[GKC, "The Blue Cross", The Innocence of Father Brown, emphasis added]
Yes, there really was a Eucharistic Congress in London - the nineteenth of such meetings, which are world-wide, and still being held - that one was held September 9-13, 1908. See here for some more about the amazing story.

Why do I start there? Because, though it may be hard to talk well about such a gigantic book as Orthodoxy, the one we shall examine closely throughout this year, it is necessary that we look into things in an upside-down, and a distant, an alien, an outsider kind of view. Otherwise, we shall get nowhere. We must imagine, in a sense, that WE are Flambeau. We are in England. Someone is after us. Actually two people. One, to arrest us and bring us to trial. (He, alas, shall face a different kind of trial before we do; but I cannot explain this allusion here.) Another, who is not so much following us, but in front of us, is trying to catch us with "an unseen hook and an invisible line"... for the Lord has made him a Fisher of Men. [See "The Queer Feet" in The Innocence of Father Brown]

Chesterton, in his own way, is also a fisher of men. And that is a distinctly Christian vocation. It is not only the priest who is called to this fishing. Nor does such fishing always involve nets! If we were proceeding to argue as Aquinas, we should indeed cite that Father Brown story about the thread.

Orthodoxy, you see, is one of the most potent of Chesterton's threads.

Our ACS president, Dale Ahlquist, and I have discussed the curious division of Chestertonians into those who seem to center on Orthodoxy and those who seem to center on The Everlasting Man. Some people read Orthodoxy first and then The Everlasting Man, and some do it the other way around. (Some haven't yet, lucky you! Get busy.) There is a debate - a silly, and rather half-hearted one - about which is "more important" or "more fundamental". (We do not debate it. We like them both.)

After some struggle, we have produced a shorthand explanation, to remove all doubt, and set the matter to rest:
Orthodoxy is about how GKC found it.

The Everlasting Man is about what he found. (Or, rather WHOM. Remember that "the Everlasting Man" is GKC's own title for Jesus Christ.)
So. Having settled another seeming paradox of "A OR B" by choosing "A AND B", as is my right, since I know Boolean Algebra, I shall now proceed to make a first examination of Orthodoxy. Every Chestertonian is going to be doing this during 2008. The whole Conference, according to last report, is going to be doing this. I can only hope to do it differently by trickery. I shall do it by NOT doing it, like Calvin (from the comic "Calvin and Hobbes") touching the "Opposite Pole", or as one sees the sun at night by its reflection from the moon. Or I shall do it like Valentin following Flambeau: that is, by following "the train of the unreasonable". I shall stop at odd things in the text, things others might stride past, and look at them by the light of the moon. So, let us begin, with the help of God.

Take, for example, the opening words of GKC's Orthodoxy:
This book is meant to be a companion to Heretics, and to put the positive side in addition to the negative. Many critics complained of the book called Heretics because it merely criticised current philosophies without offering any alternative philosophy. This book is an attempt to answer the challenge. It is unavoidably affirmative and therefore unavoidably autobiographical.
[GKC, Orthodoxy CW1:209]
First, we see that this book almost presumes that you have already examined GKC's earlier book, Heretics, in which he skewers some great names of his time - some still known, others forgotten except for their appearance within it. For example, the great playwright, George Bernard Shaw:
I am not concerned with Mr. Bernard Shaw as one of the most brilliant and one of the most honest men alive; I am concerned with him as a Heretic - that is to say, a man whose philosophy is quite solid, quite
coherent, and quite wrong.
[GKC, Heretics CW1:46]
Chesterton is not being a 21st century (or better, a 19th century) journalist, intent on throwing mud, or ink (since the streets have now been paved). He is being something far more amazing: a thirteenth century scholastic. He is aiming, not at the person, but at that person's ideas. GKC says GBS's philosophy (his ideas) are wrong - an important distinction.

In the same way, then, in Orthodoxy GKC is about to talk about some MORE ideas. But this time, those ideas which are RIGHT where those in his other volume were wrong - or perhaps I should be more precise to say these ideas are TRUE where the others are FALSE. (But we are not going to see an epistemological analysis here; do it yourself if you are that interested!)

It is important to note the strange humility here. GKC claims that the ideas we are about to see are "affirmative" - they state a truth. He immediately links this with himself - he uses that power-word "Therefore" and shows that (1) he is NOT setting forth a text on mathematics, which can be asserted by adherence to the learned rules; (2) he is not setting forth a text on "natural science" - on physics or such studies, which can be established by repetition of the experience of the matter being considered; (3) he is not setting forth a text on "theological science" which is a matter of contemplation (if not literal inspiration). He is not going to resort to an appeal to authority, which might turn into a fistfight. Nor is he doing the usual kind of writing which comes under the general head of Liberal Arts, which is usually just a presenting of excerpts from other writers on a given topic, and a reconsideration of the relevance or the accuracy of their work. (This may be just another form of the appeal to authority, which explains why so many lit'ry folk have black eyes. Hee hee.) All these things are good and worthy in their place, and GKC talks about all of them elsewhere, and almost always with respect.

No, here, GKC is trying to do something very difficult. He is going to tell us something about what HE believes, and how his thought got him to that particular belief. He is not, in the formal sense, "proving" something. He is giving an exposition of his own thought. It is therefore both affirmative and autobiographical.

Let us advance, just slightly, into the paragraph, skipping the mention of Newman - or I shall soon fill your hard disk with curiosities. Perhaps someday someone will explore the relation between Newman and Chesterton - it will be useful as well as inspiring. But let us go on, as there is one other blazing jewel to explore today:
It is the purpose of the writer to attempt an explanation, not of whether the Christian Faith can be believed, but of how he personally has come to believe it. The book is therefore arranged upon the positive principle of a riddle and its answer.
[GKC, Orthodoxy CW1:209]
People wonder about the link from GKC to JRRT - that is from the Master of Paradox to the Master of Hobbits and the Subcreator of Middle Earth, J.R.R. Tolkien. There are many points to explore (and topics for other days), and here is another point of contact. GKC sees the essential question of truth as a riddle. (remember Bilbo and Gollum?)

GKC had already begun pondering the marvellous Book of Job in the Bible - he wrote an introduction to it in 1907 - he begins it so: "The Book of Job is among the other Old Testament Books both a philosophical riddle and a historical riddle." [In GKC as M.C.] Even before that, in 1901, he knew it: "Every great literature has always been allegorical - allegorical of some view of the whole universe. The 'Iliad' is only great because all life is a battle, the 'Odyssey' because all life is a journey, the Book of Job because all life is a riddle." ["A Defence of Nonsense" in The Defendant] For Bilbo and Gollum, the Riddle game was considered "sacred" and "of immense antiquity"... it would be all too easy to explore this, and delay the issue at hand again. But I shall resist the Ring, the Ring-Maker, and all his works...

The riddle form, the question and answer, the challenge and response, the joke and the punchline... are these just the eastbound and westbound lanes of the turnpike, the systole and diastole, the input and output, the morning and evening terminators of the intellect? Or are they something more?

GKC means to find out. And we, please God, shall follow him as he explains his own study of his own experience, his own thought - and his own discovery.

Remember, the country of England is claimed to have been discovered by Gilbert Keith Chesterton. Yes, indeed. He claimed it himself. (We'll get to that line in a future episode.) Let us not be bothered by the dull history that others discovered it before him. Let us have the adventure, like Bilbo, and set off down the Road - which is also called the Way.

--Dr. Thursday.

PS. Come close to the screen, I have a secret to tell. I heard it as a secret; it was so written by a priest in a very rare newspaper. Here it is:

"One day while we were studying in Roma, we heard it whispered that the supreme joke of eternity consists of two parts - a question and an answer, like all the classic aphorisms - the two parts of course being the Old and New Testaments." [from "Humor and Its Basis in Reason" by Fr. A. Thomas, O.P. in Something Good to Read Vol. CXIV No. 230 (Feb. 11, 1998)]

So the next time someone asks you the silly old question about "Why did the Chicken Cross the Road" you will understand what the joke really is. And like GKC, you will feel the universe shift into rightness, even as it appears upside down! You will hear the song of the angels at Bethlehem, the cries at Calvary, the strange sounds of that Paschal Sunday which we now know are "Alleluias" - and the Great Noise which is the whisper of the Spirit. It's an adventure.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

Dr. Thursday's Post

Special Report - Boys' Adventures and a Second Christmas
I dedicate this essay to the memory of a truly great writer and adventurer, Bertrand R. Brinley.

In gratitude,
--Dr. Thursday
While I ought to continue the prolongation of Christmas by a special commentary on the upcoming (new-style) Baptism of the Lord, which is concurrently celebrated with the old-style Holy Family (First Sunday after Epiphany), I have had an interesting kind of Second Christmas, which, as you may see, might even play into the present liturgical scheme.

Just before the end of the year, I had to investigate something-or-other, and as all Chestertonians know about encyclopedias (TCM 240), one thing led to another. (Hmm, I think there is a rock song called that.) Yes, for me, it is as Bunny Watson (Katherine Hepburn) remarked to Richard Sumner (Spencer Tracey) in "Desk Set": "I associate many things with many things."

Ahem. This was somehow motivated by the discussion over in our bloggmistress's own blogg about children's literature, or (as GKC calls it) "Books for Boys". GKC's essay in The Common Man is very important to our topic - here is just a short excerpt:
The mental digestion of boys is as strong as their physical digestion. They do not heed the cookery of art any more than the art of cookery. They can eat the apples of the tree of knowledge, and they can eat them raw. It is a great mistake to suppose that boys only read boyish books. Not only do they privately revel in their sisters' most sentimental novels, but they absorb cartloads of useless information. One boy in particular, with whose career from an early age we have the best reasons for being familiar, used to read whole volumes of Chamber's Encyclopaedia, and of a very musty and unreliable History of English Trade. The thing was a mere brute pleasure of reading, a pleasure in leisurely and mechanical receptiveness. It was the sort of pleasure that a cow must have in grazing all day long. But when all allowance has been made for the omnivorousness of youth, we incline to think that there is probably a considerable amount of truth in the idea that boys' books have to some extent degenerated. They have degenerated probably for the reason that all forms of art degenerate, because they are despised. Probably they were less despised in the days when they still had upon them, as it were, the glamour of the great masters of historical romance. The spirit of Scott and Ainsworth and Fenimore Cooper remained in them even if it was only the reflection of a hundred reflections and each in a distorting mirror. No one will ever understand the spirit at the back of popular and juvenile literature until he realises one fact, that a large amount of it is the result of that enthusiasm of the young reader which makes him wish to hear more and more about certain heroes, and read more and more of certain types of books. He dowers the creatures of fiction with a kind of boyish immortality. He is not surprised if Dick Deadshot or Jack Harkaway renews his youth through a series of volumes which reaches further than the length of the Encyclopaedia Britannica. These books have the vital philosophy of youth, a philosophy in which death does not exist, except, indeed, as an external and picturesque incident which happens to villains.
[GKC, The Common Man 228-9]
Clearly, GKC liked and appreciated Books for Boys. In his other foundation-essay of this topic, he illuminates us further: "The essence of adventure stories, as Stevenson pointed out, is that the reader is himself the adventurer. He imagines himself sharing the combat and the comradeship..." [GKC, ILN Sept 23, 1922 CW32:450] These two elements, the seeming perpetual life, and the reader's sharing in the participation, stand at the foundation to this matter, and deserve some deep study - which I hope to return to. But for today I wish to go into another aspect of "Boy's Adventures".

Read more.

I claim that anyone - boy or girl - and this means readers of any age - can, should, and will delight in such stories. Rather than a sign of some distorted refusal to grow up, delight in "Boys' Stories" is far more a definite indication of authentic maturity. (Remember, "unless you change, and become LIKE little children..." - we can delve into THAT also another day!) Such books, when they are good, provoke a sharp, insistent interest. They motivate far better than those smarmy "Power" management posters one sees hung up in company lunchrooms. They display exemplars of honesty, confidence, chivalry, steadfastness, friendship - all the manly, Christian virtues - remember virtue derives from Latin vir = Man-the-male! Even a boy can "Be a man." (It is part of the paradox that a woman can be so without losing any of her innate femininity.) They hold up a mirror far more magical than Harry Potter's "Erised" or than that of the witch in Snow White - for this mirror shows a stark image of the Good Man, the Trusted Friend, the Honest Worker - all the virtuous and veiled heroes of the Heavenly Hall - and commands us to compare ourselves to them: how do we rank? It is a grave danger - but ought not be avoided, since its comparison is the safest path to improvement. (This "mirror" is nothing more than an examination of conscience in story-form.)

Not that such books are handbooks of Moral Theology! They are fiction, not scholarly texts. But then so are the parables of our Lord! Often there are unpunished crimes (the thieves in the Good Samaritan) unresolved threads (what the older brother of the Prodigal Son does) or other distasteful characters (the bad judge pestered by the widow)... But I am not here to argue the goodness of "Story" - whether given from divine or from human pens. I am simply trying to call attention to such things.

Nor ought the apparent bias of Boys (as distinct from Girls) be of concern. This is not that kind of matter. That particular subject which GKC considered one of the Great Secrets of All Humanity, because we ALL know about it, and yet do not ordinarily talk about its details in public (see ILN August 10, 1907 CW27:523 et seq for the whole discussion) is, by definition, out of bounds for such stories, except in the most distant, and always the most chivalrous, manner. Again, in our present day, there is far too much of this secret not being properly kept - and I need not mention it further. Which is one reason why such Literature is so good.

Another reason is the rightful placing of the "hard" matter of science and morality (yes, as Dorothy Sayers noted, there ARE six other deadly sins besides the one that has "adult" in its name!) Here's how GKC explains it:
...it was a mark of the old English school of boys' literature that the authors were full of scientific hobbies. Where they differed from the scientific futurists of to-day is that they never were tormented with the sceptical fancy that material changes must be accompanied by moral changes. The morality they expressed - or rather, assumed - was the sane and simple morality which is the soul of all adventures. Adventure involves loyalty because it involves purpose; it involves courage because it involves peril; it involves a certain receptiveness and readiness to be easily pleased because it involves making the best of anything. The modern story-teller is disturbed with a vague evolutionary notion that this morality can change. We can only say that, if it does change, there will be no adventure stories, and probably no adventures. Thus a real adventure story cannot be made on a certain moral or immoral model not uncommon in modern books. I mean the sort of story in which the hero is the villain. The hero need not be directly dealing in morality, but his own moral position must be by implication secure and satisfying; for it is the whole meaning of adventure that his soul is the fixed point in a wildly agitated world.
[GKC, ILN Sept 23, 1922 CW32:453]
Wow. But I seem to be drifting into a discussion of such Stories in general, and today I want to talk about some very specific stories. Specifically, the short stories by Bertrand R. Brinley, written in the early 1960s and first appearing in Boys' Life, about the Mad Scientists of Mammoth Falls.

These stories have been among my very favourites for decades. They were an important milestone along my path into science. Not that I haunted a house, or built a flying saucer, or dug up a dinosaur egg! But because they joined, in a very Chestertonian way, two ideas which would otherwise be seen as quite disjoint: the idea of science, and the idea of humor - or, even more general, the idea of having a Good Time with science. At first, you would expect that Chesterton, having died in 1936, could by no means have written anything at all on a story which first appeared in 1964 or so. But then, knowing our Mr. Chesterton as you should by now, you ought to expect that he did just about everything but name the book and its main characters. And behold: you would be right!
Some solemn and superficial people (for nearly all very superficial people are solemn) have declared that the fairy-tales are immoral; they base this upon some accidental circumstances or regrettable incidents in the war between giants and boys, some cases in which the latter indulged in unsympathetic deceptions or even in practical jokes. The objection, however, is not only false, but very much the reverse of the facts. The fairy-tales are at root not only moral in the sense of being innocent, but moral in the sense of being didactic, moral in the sense of being moralising. It is all very well to talk of the freedom of fairyland, but there was precious little freedom in fairyland by the best official accounts.
[GKC ILN Feb 29, 1908 CW28:53]
For, I regret to inform my friends who live in the Midwest area near the southwest end of Lake Michigan, Mammoth Falls is NOT in Illinois, or Wisconsin. it is in Fairy Land, and the boys battle the usual giants, sometimes with unsympathetic deceptions, and sometimes with practical jokes. But the point, as GKC lectures at length in his Orthodoxy, is that the Science (often termed "magic") of that land provides very little freedom. Perhaps this is why these scientists are "mad"...

It would be all too easy to construct parallels between the Seven Mad Scientists and their once-friend and arch foe, and GKC's Seven Members of the Council of the Days, and their opponent... but that is not the point here. Let the bible scholars sort this, as Ronald Knox sorted Holmes and the mystery of the variant Watsons. No, I am not trying that kind of literary exploration. It would be all too easy to critique the "science", the practicality, or the legality, of the antics of these young men. But that would be like trying to bring the Prodigal Son to the Sanhedrin for judgement... a silly and useless exercise, even for the moot of it. It would be all too easy to condemn, with all the fires of dragons, the explanations of how certain - er - technical tricks can be done - but any typical television show or movie provides far easier, and far more dangerous temptations.

No, I come not to critique, but to announce. I come with news of great joy. I am quite late at this, since it was old news even some years ago, but in this case, it is better late than never.

For me, 2007 was not only the year in which I read the final Harry Potter mystery, and learned the revelations akin to those of the Road to Emmaus (which I understand is JKR's favourite painting). It was also the year I learned that there were MORE stories about the Mad Scientists - more than the two books of short stories which I read long ago and keep happily on my Important Books shelf.

I said something about a second Christmas - it came last week, when I obtained the TWO OTHER BOOKS about the Mad Scientists - and they are full-length novels! The first is called The Big Kerplop! (referring to something which falls into Strawberry Lake from an Air Force jet). It is important because it gives the foundation of the Club, and many important details about the members, including the "casting out" of the enemy. The second is called The Big Chunk of Ice, and it has such a feel of Manalive and other Chesterton stories, it is hilarious as well as different - I can't easily give a good summary, nor do I want to, as that might spoil it.

Note - I am not connected with Purple House Press, the Brinleys, or anything related to these books - except as a reader and as one who delights in a friendship with the seven Mad Scientists. I would strongly urge you, whether you are a boy, have a boy brother, son, grandson, nephew, or neighbour, or have been a boy, or have known a boy - get these books, and read them. You do NOT have to be a scientist to like them, as you do not have to be a priest to like Father Brown, or a English journalist to like Chesterton. I think you will enjoy them - I hope you do. I did, and still do.

I said at the beginning of this ridiculously incoherent ramble that this topic of boy's books is connected to the liturgical epoch we are in. Well, that's a real stretch - or maybe it isn't. It sometimes seems quite misleading, as some may guess that Christ was baptised as an infant - but really! He was "about 30" at that time, and except for the glimpse at the Finding in the Temple, there is a good 18, if not 28 to 30 years about which we know nothing - or next to nothing. Hear again GKC on this, from his master reference to our Lord:
There are a great many things about it [the Gospel] which nobody would have invented, for they are things that nobody has ever made any particular use of; things which if they were remarked at all have remained rather as puzzles. For instance, there is that long stretch of silence in the life of Christ up to the age of thirty. It is of all silences the most immense and imaginatively impressive. But it is not the sort of thing that anybody is particularly likely to invent in order to prove something; and nobody so far as I know has ever tried to prove anything in particular from it. It is impressive, but it is only impressive as a fact; there is nothing particularly popular or obvious about it as a fable. The ordinary trend of hero-worship and myth-making is much more likely to say the precise opposite.
[GKC The Everlasting Man CW2:321]
It may be, as I have pointed out somewhere, that this was because He wished to be "full-grown" since the epiphyses of the clavicle do not fuse until then - the collarbone is the last of the long bones to "finish" being put together. Or it may be, as GKC continues in the above-quoted text, that "there is indeed something strange in the thought that the who of all humanity needed least preparation seems to have had most. Whether it was some mode of the divine humility, or some truth of which we see the shadow in the longer domestic tutelage of the higher creatures of the earth, I do not propose to speculate; I mention it simply as an example of the sort of thing that does in any case give rise to speculations, quite apart from recognised religious speculations." [Ibid CW2:321-2]

But the reason could be simpler. What was He doing? Well! As an embryo, a fetus, an infant, a toddler, a lad, He grew - and He learned. He was busy. And after he grew and learned, He was working - as we all do. He was with His family, doing the family things. And in the end, He like the Mad Scientists, went and "battled giants", sometimes with "unsympathetic deceptions" and sometimes with what were nearly "practical jokes". Yes, there are still giants to fight. Sometimes, laughter is the best weapon: "The child or the boy is quite right in believing that there really is a dragon somewhere, and that the harder he is hit the better." [GKC ILN Sept 23 1922 CW32:454]

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Support the Chesterton Society and buy a gift for a young person for Christmas or St. Nicholas Day


Look at this beautiful cover, designed and made by Gilbert's own Ted Schluenderfritz. And it looks even better in person, but don't take my word for it, order one and see for yourself.

The FIRST book you could give children of Chesterton's! How cool is that? And your purchase helps support the ACS as well.

Go for it! (Buy 2!)

Thursday, November 08, 2007

Birthday Bonus Week


Anyone wanting to try to WIN a Father Brown Reader should go here and enter Cay's contest.

Anyone wanting to obtain The Father Brown Reader at a Birthday Bonus discount on Friday only and only at Flying Stars, should order one tomorrow, Friday.

Monday, November 05, 2007

The amazon.com Father Brown Reader page

Check it out. Read my plog. Watch the rankings go up and down.

If you own the book, write a review. If you don't own it, well, get cracking. Don't you need a St. Nicholas (December 6th) idea for your children or grandchildren?

If you'd like an autographed copy (unfortunately, not autographed by Chesterton, but by the adapter), come see me here.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Announcing.....

(Click image for larger view)
The Father Brown Reader!

Available for preorders now. Just in time for your children, granchildren, or great-grandchildren for this Christmas (after you get them their Gilbert ornament, of course).

4 Short stories by G. K. Chesterton adapted by Nancy Carpentier Brown

Illustrated by Ted Schluenderfritz

This book features 4 Father Brown mysteries adpated for young readers:

A sapphire cross rescued . . . "The Blue Cross"

A set of silverware recovered . . . . "The Strange Feet"

A trio of diamonds restored . . . . "The Flying Stars"

A magician's puzzle solved . . . . "The Absence of Mr. Glass"

Great for gift giving to your favorite young readers!! (Appropriate for advanced 3rd graders-5th grade. Great for read alouds as well.)
OK people, I'm counting on you helping us make this a Best Seller and show the world how great a mystery writer GKC is. Order your 5 today!!!!

Thursday, September 27, 2007

Thursday's Dr. Thursday Post


The Wind: Setting the Volume to Max

As I have mentioned in last week's posting, there are a lot of memories connected with September. It was in September of 1969 when I first picked up a bow and began to learn the bass fiddle, also called the double-bass or string bass, the largest of the orchestral strings.

It was a lot of fun... I was never very good, but I did play in the high school stage band, and also in the string ensemble at college. That first practice we began with Mozart's "Eine Kleine Nachtmusik" and it was so awesome that I forgot to play, I was just so amazed by being "inside" the orchestra.

But my playing the string bass had another outcome: a good friend who is now the organist of a cathedral. He provided the musical talent when I built the pipe organ in my basement, and played at its first (and only) recital. From him, from our music teacher at high school, from a number of books, and from direct experience, I learned a lot about pipe organs, which have some strange associations with computers. Computer scientists aren't the only ones who care about numbers like 32, 16, 8, 4, 2, and 1 - but organists must also deal with two-and-two-thirds and one-and-three-fifths, the so-called "mutation" stops, which we can talk about another time.

The first thing one learns about the pipe organ is that it is two major parts: a collection of pipes sitting on a box full of compressed air (the "wind chest"), and machinery to control them (keyboards, stops, and so on). One must have at least five dozen pipes - because each pipe can make only one sound. An organ pipe is not like a flute or clarinet, which has a number of holes, and various keys covering those holes. In an organ, the music comes by having a "rank" - a set of 61 pipes, each made as similarly as possible to the others, except for its size - one for each of the 61 keys of the standard organ keyboard. (That's five octaves and a note, from the "C" 2 ledgers below the bass clef to the second "C" above the staff.)

Most organs have several ranks of pipes. Each rank will have its own shape, which gives that rank its particular "timbre" or tonal quality... again this amazing topic is something for another time.

But I tell you about this very high "system" view of the pipe organ for this purpose: all the keyboards and other various switches (called stop knobs or tabs) are arranged simply in order to control getting the "wind" (the compressed air) to each single pipe. The particular key pressed determines which size pipe - what pitch. The stop knob selects which rank of pipes - what tonal quality. Obviously, when you press several keys, you play a chord, and notes sound in harmony (let us hope!). And, when you pull out more than one stop, you get an increased and mixed tonal effect. This is the origin of the phrase - "pulling out all the stops" - which is called "full organ". In rock and roll, it is called setting the amps to "ten" ("eleven" if you are in "Spinal Tap"). The first album of the rock group "Rush" directs the listener to "set the volume to maximum for best results" (See here for more on that.)

Now it may seem surprising to go into such details about music on a Chesterton blogg. It is said that he was nearly tone-deaf: "Yet it was all but impossible to teach Gilbert a tune, and Bernard Shaw felt this (as we have seen) a real drawback to his friend's understanding of his own life and career. Music was to Shaw what line and color were to Chesterton; but to Chesterton singing was just making a noise to show he felt happy." [Ward, Gilbert Keith Chesterton 276, my emphasis] Father O'Connor, perceptive and careful, applies the scholastic distinguo: "[He] was tone-deaf, though most sensitive to musical rhythm or tempo. [O'Connor, Father Brown on Chesterton, 21, my emphasis]

But as usual Chesterton understood a lot more than we think.

To hear more about this, pull out all the stops and click here...


I think GKC would have greatly approved of the instructions from "Rush", or the "eleven" on the amps of "Spinal Tap" - because - of all things - he understood just what really happened on Palm Sunday.

Now, if that sounds like a Father Brown riddle, perhaps you have not yet read Tremendous Trifles, which is again available! Here is the solution:
I remember a debate in which I had praised militant music in ritual, and some one asked me if I could imagine Christ walking down the street before a brass band. I said I could imagine it with the greatest ease; for Christ definitely approved a natural noisiness at a great moment. When the street children shouted too loud, certain priggish disciples did begin to rebuke them in the name of good taste. He said: "If these were silent the very stones would cry out." [GKC, "The Tower" in Tremendous Trifles, quoting Luke 19:40, my emphasis]
As usual, there is something more to be discovered, if one takes the time. This is an example of where saying the Rosary can pay off - careful reading of Scripture, or real attention at Holy Mass have equal effects, but the Rosary is designed (ah, let use keep to our musical theme) to compose variations on a basso ostinato.

On that Sunday before Passover, as the palms were strewn and the children raised their voices, there was something more than just making noise - there was, to use a modern term, an advertisement, an attention-getter. Specifically the cheers and cries of "Hosanna!" called attention to something going on - to a piece of news - to a new event.

And, if one takes a look at the events exactly eight weeks later, one finds the exact same thing happening. But this time, the sound had a rather different origin:
And when the days of the Pentecost were accomplished, [the Apostles] were all together in one place: And suddenly there came a sound from heaven, as of a mighty wind coming: and it filled the whole house where they were sitting. [Acts 2:1-2, emphasis added]
Wow. Talk about setting the volume to max!

Here we see that Someone has controlled the wind! The master Organist of the Universe has "pulled out all the stops" in order to call attention to something new. ("Behold, I make all things new." [Rv 21:5])

This new wind is so powerful, and yet so subtle that Chesterton could not help but call upon it in his own writing:
"How The Great Wind Came To Beacon House"

A wind sprang high in the west, like a wave of unreasonable happiness, and tore eastward across England, trailing with it the frosty scent of forests and the cold intoxication of the sea. In a million holes and corners it refreshed a man like a flagon and astonished him like a blow. In the inmost chambers of intricate and embowered houses it woke like a domestic explosion, littering the floor with some professor's papers till they seemed as precious as fugitive, or blowing out the candle by which a boy read Treasure Island and wrapping him in roaring dark. But everywhere it bore drama into undramatic lives, and carried the trump of crisis across the world. Many a harassed mother in a mean backyard had looked at five dwarfish shirts on the clothes-line as at some small, sick tragedy; it was as if she had hanged her five children. The wind came, and they were full and kicking as if five fat imps had sprung into them; and far down in her oppressed subconsciousness she half remembered those coarse comedies of her fathers when the elves still dwelt in the homes of men. Many an unnoticed girl in a dank walled garden had tossed herself into the hammock with the same intolerant gesture with which she might have tossed herself into the Thames; and that wind rent the waving wall of woods and lifted the hammock like a balloon, and showed her shapes of quaint cloud far beyond, and pictures of bright villages far below, as if she rode heaven in a fairy boat. Many a dusty clerk or curate, plodding a telescopic road of poplars, thought for the hundredth time that they were like the plumes of a hearse, when this invisible energy caught and swung and clashed them round his head like a wreath or salutation of seraphic wings. There was in it something more inspired and authoritative even than the old wind of the proverb; for this was the good wind that blows nobody harm. [GKC, Manalive, first chapter]
As you may have expected, I bring all this up for a purpose. For in just over a week, the date of October 7 shall again occur on a Sunday, as it did in 1571, when the young Don John of Austria defeated the galleys of the Turks in the historic battle of Lepanto. That Sunday morning, he had small hope for victory - the Turkish fleet was far larger; the forces of the West were hodge-podge, barely united under Don John's command. Their hope, such as it was, was based on the plea of the Pope, who had asked for prayers to be said - in particular, the prayer of the Rosary of the Blessed Virgin Mary, wherein the various mysteries of the birth, life, death and glorification of Jesus the God-Man are recalled.

The records tell of the dramatic moment after Holy Mass, soon after sunrise, when the forces of the West rowed into the wind, towards the sun, in the battle-array of a cross - facing the west-sailing galleys arranged in the Crescent of the Turks....

But then! Ah, how to make this pivot dramatic... Then as the historian Beeching puts it in a paragraph of just five short words:

And then the wind changed.

The wind swung into the west (as it did on Beacon Hill for Innocent Smith!) aiding Don John and thwarting the Turks - and hope sprang up for the forces of the Cross.

Yes, that battle was won. But we must still face evil - not fearful galleys on a sunrise sea - but the hidden Powers of Darkness. They continue to assault our world, our country, our cities, our families, our own lives - not with swords or guns, but with every spiritual weapon, to destroy peace, wipe out hope, darken faith, quench love.

Where can we go for aid?
"And they came to him, and awaked him, saying: 'Lord, save us, we perish'." [Mt 8:25]
We must pray - we must ask for the Spirit of light, of strength, of love. We must again appeal to the One Who directs the wind, Who came upon the Apostles in tongues of fire!
And Jesus saith to them: "Why are you fearful, O ye of little faith?" Then rising up, he commanded the winds, and the sea, and there came a great calm. But the men wondered, saying: "What manner of man is this, for he winds and the sea obey him?" [Mt 8:26-27]
So, please join in the nine day novena of the Rosary, starting this Saturday, September 29, and continuing to Sunday October 7.

Saturday, September 22, 2007

The Wisdom of Father Brown

On MP3 audio. Download and listen.