The need for narrowness

Education, Chesterton argues in part IV of 'What's wrong with the world', unavoidably uses authority. The only question then becomes: which authority? The authority of the Pope, or of the House of Lords, or of Mrs. Grundy? In England, Chesterton argues, there are no uneducated people. There are merely people wrongly educated, by the various influences around them. The English poor know too much, not too little: they are ' rather deafened and bewildered with raucous and despotic advice. They are not like sheep without a shepherd. They are more like one sheep whom twenty-seven shepherds are shouting at.' The result can be disastrous: 'If they cannot learn enough about law and citizenship to please the teacher, they learn enough about them to avoid the policeman. If they will not learn history forwards from the right end in the history books, they will learn it backwards from the wrong end in the party newspapers.'
There are so many influences possible on our children; there is a great need for narrowness or focus. 'They say that nowadays the creeds are crumbling; I doubt it, but at least the sects are increasing; and education must now be sectarian education, merely for practical purposes. Out of all this throng of theories it must somehow select a theory; out of all these thundering voices it must manage to hear a voice'.

On education

Part IV of 'What's wrong with the world' deals with education, or 'The mistake about the child'. The first sections are more or less preliminaries, dealing with what we would call the 'nature-nurture debate'. Chesterton, fifty years before the discovery of DNA, maintains that we do not know enough about heredity. The same, though, is true for the influences of the environment: we cannot predict how a child will be formed in a certain environment.
Having dealt with these preliminaries, Chesterton continues with what he calls the 'main fact about education', namely, 'that there is no such thing'. We need to realize that education is only a process of relaying information from an authority to a child. This means that we cannot separate 'dogma from education'.
Now we come at the crucial point: if 'education is only truth in a state of transmission', how can we 'pass on truth if it has never come into our hand?' First we need to know ourselves what children ought to know. We have a highly audacious duty: 'the responsibility of affirming the truth of our human tradition and handing it on with a voice of authority, an unshaken voice. That is the one eternal education; to be sure enough that something is true that you dare tell it to a child.' From this duty, moderns are fleeing.

Thirteen detectives

The Father Brown stories are not the only detective stories Chesterton wrote: in this bundle 'Thirteen detectives; classic mystery stories by the creator of father Brown' we encounter other detectives, such as the poet Gabriel Gale and the interesting mr. Pond.
The stories are mostly up to the standards I have come to expect from Chesterton: good, deep, hilarious. It is sometimes confusing to have all these different main characters, but it was a delight to encounter mr. Pond.
The last story was somewhat special: it was another Father Brown story. The setting was somewhat unusual: first a long letter explained the circumstances to Father Brown, and then the little priest comes personally to the crime scene and solves the mystery. I love this device, for it makes you try to think of solutions yourself. In this case, though, I did not even come close.

Feminism, or the mistake about woman

In part III of 'What's wrong with the world' I find myself disagreeing with Chesterton. He argues why women should not have a job outside of the house and not have the right to vote. Of course he wrote in 1910, so some years before women actually got the right to vote.
The argument that a woman who stays at home can remain an 'universalist', while her husband who has to work is a 'specialist' has been discussed a few days ago: this is apparently Chesterton's main argument on why women should not have jobs.
For the voting question it is argued that women should remain innocent of the responsibilities of citizens (such as capital punishment). Chesterton believes that most women do not want the vote. Women, furthermore, already rule in their respective houses and in society, in a manner appropriate to women. They always professed that politics was not serious; in a manner they were above it.
This was one of the few arguments where I really felt as if Chesterton lived a hundred years ago. Usually, he seems to be almost prophetic in his analyses of modern evils, but I cannot see the position of modern working and voting women as problematic in Chesterton's sense.

Mr. Pond

Included in the bundle 'Thirteen detectives' are two stories about Mr. Pond. Having read them, I sure hope Chesterton wrote more stories with this main character: both 'The three horsemen of the apocalypse' and 'When doctors agree' were wonderful.
Mr. Pond is not really a detective, this unassuming civil servant merely excels in solving riddles. In Chesterton's words: 'Pond himself had had some very curious experiences; but, as he would not turn them into long stories, they appeared only as short stories; and the short stories were so very short as to be quite unintelligible.' The unassuming Mr. Pond indeed has the tendency to speak in riddles, for example: "Grock failed because his soldiers obeyed him.", or "I did know two men who came to agree so completely that one of them naturally murdered the other".
I will not spoil your enjoyment by telling the details about the riddles Mr. Pond explains to us. But read carefully, and think while you read, for as one of Pond's friends says to him: "That's what's the matter with you, my boy. There are always such a damned lot of things you have mentioned but not explained."

Specialization

I have noticed before that Chesterton tends to oppose specialization; in the first sections of part III of 'What's wrong with the world' I found some reasons he does so. Some examples:
Fire does not exist only to warm people. 'It exists to warm people, to light their darkness, to raise their spirits, to toast their muffins, to air their rooms, to cook their chestnuts, to tell stories to their children, to make checkered shadows on their walls, to boil their hurried kettles, and to be the red heart of a man's house and that hearth for which, as the great heathens said, a man should die.' If this multi-purpose fire is replaced by various substitutes, such as central heating for heat, and electric bulbs for light, we will multiply appliances that only have one specific use, but we will lose some of the purposes of the fire (if only the place where Santa brings the presents).
Religion also used to be a 'maid-of-all-work', who 'taught logic to the student and told fairy tales to the children'. In the modern world, some of her functions have branched off in various sterile subjects: art, ethics, cosmology, psychology, etc.
Now Chesterton does realize the importance, in this world, of specialists. Engineers, tradesmen, etc all need to excel in their own work, they need to be competitive. Chesterton, however, sees this in some ways as an impoverishment: we lose the 'homo universalis'. In his view, women in our society, as the ones protected from the need to specialize, still have the possibility to be universal and not specialized. In their houses, they can be the 'Jack-of-all-trades'. She will, perhaps, not be a great cook, but she'll be better than her specialized husband. In addition to this, she will be a better story-teller than a first-class cook, she will be a house-decorator, a dressmaker, a schoolmistress. 'She should not have one trade but twenty hobbies; she, unlike the man, may develop all her second-bests.'
Chesterton continues the argument by stating that by staying at home, the woman will not be narrowed, but instead be broadened. 'How can it be a large career to tell other people's children about the Rule of Three, and a small career to tell one's own children about the universe?'
I do wonder if this still applies in our modern world: children will be at school from six years old (if not earlier), dresses are bought in stores instead of made at home, modern kitchen appliances and conveniences save hours and hours of work. Personally, I could not imagine what I would do with myself the whole day if I did not have a (part-time) job.

The mistake about man

Beyond Father Brown

It appears that Chesterton wrote some detective stories with other 'detectives' than Father Brown; they are collected in the bundle 'Thirteen detectives'. I must confess it is rather odd to continually have a new main character. On the other hand, some stories have some beautiful Chestertonian ideas.
In 'A hole in the wall', for example, Chesterton exposes our modern habit of demystifying the past. One character says: 'For instance, the very name of this place, Prior's Park, makes everybody think of it as a moonlit medieval abbey [-]. But according to the only authoritative study of the matter I can find the place was simply called Prior's as any rural place is called Podger's. It was the house of a Mr. Prior'. Later in the story, though, we hear the following: 'When some critic or other chose to say that Prior's Park was not a priory, but was named after some quite modern man named Prior, nobody really tested the theory at all. It never occurred to anybody repeating the story to ask if there really was any Mr. Prior, if anybody had ever seen him or heard of him.' I find this a rather beautiful illustration of some principles that may still be at work in some other historical perceptions we moderns have.

The homelessness of man

Part I of 'What's wrong with the world' deals with 'the homelessness of man. In the last few sections, we meet a common man, Jones, whose only desire seems to be to live a normal life in his own home. Modern philosophies prevent him from doing this; more specifically Hudge and Gudge (personifications of socialism and capitalism) argue over his head, but do not give him the opportunity to live the life he wants.
Since Chesterton wrote this in a somewhat different cultural context, I sometimes have difficulties following the exact argument on how these philosophies ensure this homelessness of Jones. The conclusion of this part, however, is clear:

The idea of private property universal but private, the idea of families free but still families, of domesticity democratic but still domestic, of one man one house - this remains the real vision and magnet of mankind. The world may accept something more official and general, less human and intimate. but the world will be like a broken-hearted woman who makes a humdrum marriage because she may not make a happy one; Socialism may be the world's deliverance, but it is not the world's desire.

Domesticity

In part I of 'What's wrong with the world', Chesterton poses the old 'principle of domesticity' as a basis. The family, in a home of its own, is in a sense beyond the laws of the state. The common man has, in his own house, a freedom he has nowhere else: a freedom to eat what he likes, to see the persons he likes, to paint his living room green if he likes.
Chesterton realizes that not everyone sees the home this way, but he is careful to explain to us that there is a difference between the common man and some great capitalists. Chesterton talks about limited property, and about working people who do not have time to be bored of their own home and family.
A marriage is a tie, a restriction, and this has been a tradition in most cultures. Chesterton finds it immensely important that one cannot severe this tie the minute it becomes uncomfortable.

In everything on this earth that is worth doing, there is a stage when no one would do it, except for necessity or honor. It is then that the Institution upholds a man and helps him to the firmer ground ahead. [-] Two people must be tied together in order to do themselves justice; for twenty minutes at a dance, or for twenty years in a marriage. In both cases the point is, that if a man is bored in the first five minutes he must go on and force himself to be happy. Coercion is a kind of encouragement; and anarchy (or what some call liberty) is essentially oppressive, because it is essentially discouraging.

Putting the clock backward

One of the first things 'what's wrong with the world' that Chesterton notes is our fear of the past. Instead of looking at the past, moderns often opt to look to the future. Chesterton calls this a 'weakness' or even a 'cowardice of the age'. We do not only not look at the bad things of the past, we also do not look at the good things, the 'unbearable virtue of mankind', the 'huge ideals'. Chesterton insists that we should never dismiss ideas from the past because they are old:

If I am to discuss what is wrong, one of the first things that are wrong is this: the deep and silent modern assumption that past things have become impossible. There is one metaphor of which the moderns are very fond; they are always saying "You can't put the clock back." The simple and obvious answer is "You can." A clock, being a piece of human construction, can be restored by the human finger to any figure or hour. In the same way society, being a piece of human construction, can be restored upon any plan that has ever existed.

There is another proverb, "As you have made your bed, so you must lie on it"; which again is simply a lie. If I have made my bed uncomfortable, please God I will make it again. [-] I merely claim my choice of all the tools in the universe; and I shall not admit that any of them are blunted merely because they have been used.

 In the next section (V), Chesterton gives two examples of old systems that have been tried to a certain extent, but not to their limit. He argues that 'if a thing as been defeated', logic does not dictate that 'it has been disproved'. It simply did not get the time to function properly and show its worth. In this chapter I found Chesterton's famous quote:

The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult; and left untried.

Of course we cannot deny that the Catholic Church has had some opportunity to show its worth. However, Chesterton states that the world, 'did not tire of the church's ideal, but of its reality'. If failed 'largely through the churchmen'.

What is wrong

This working title of what later became 'What's wrong with the world' was shorter, but perhaps somewhat more confusing. Chesterton, in this volume, deals with some social issues, such as imperialism, feminism and education. The first part seems to be an introduction, about general mistakes we make in thinking about the social issues of our time. 

A first mistake is 'the medical mistake': comparing society to a body. There is a huge difference: while we know pretty well what the healthy state of a body is, we do not in the least agree on the healthy state of society. While we may agree about some wrongs, we do not agree about the right. 

Next, we need to realize that when something is fundamentally wrong, we do not need practical men to fix it, but idealistic man to think out something better. One thing that is very practical would be for men to clearly state what they really want, instead for only demanding the things they think they can get. Compromise can work best if we know each man's viewpoint.

Chesterton then proceeds to discuss the problems of the hidden agenda: 'The old hypocrite, Tartuffe or Pecksniff, was a man whose aims were really worldly and practical, while he pretended that they were religious. The new hypocrite is one whose aims are really religious, while he pretends that they are worldly and practical.' Again, one of the most important aims to strive at is a clear statements of doctrines and beliefs, and an avoidance of vague prejudices. Only then can man meet each other: 'A Tory can walk up to the very edge of Socialism, if he knows what is Socialism. But if he is told that Socialism is a spirit, a sublime atmosphere, a noble, indefinable tendency, why, then he keeps out of its way'. 

Manalive

In part one of this fantastic novel we encountered Innocent Smith through his unusual actions in the lodging house Beacon Hill. In part two, the setting is a trial before 'the High Court of Beacon', consisting of the lodgers and some friends, in which Smith is accused of murder, burglary, desertion and bigamy. The accused never opens his mouth during the procedures; approximately all evidence consists of letters concerning his behavior in the past.
The letters the prosecution produces describe various instants of Smith firing at close range at persons, or eloping with maidens, or other discreditable actions. The interesting point is that there are other testimonies, produces by the defense, which do not disprove what the prosecution states, but merely shines a new light on them. The defense states that Smith 'has broken the conventions, but he has kept the commandments'.
I'll take one example, the case of murder. Smith actually did not commit murder, he merely shot and missed at close range. His reasons to carry this gun are similar to Chesterton's own reasons: if someone professes to be tired of life, one can offer to help him end it.

“I am going to hold a pistol to the head of the Modern Man. But I shall not use it to kill him–only to bring him to life.”

Because so much of the second part consists of letters, I sometimes lost the flow of the arguments. The letters themselves are interesting though, because they so clearly show the (sometimes limited) standpoint of the writer. Overall, I really liked this book and can definitely recommend it.

The allegorical practical joker

The novel 'Manalive' consists of two parts: in the first part we encounter Innocent Smith through his actions. He is almost arrested on multiple, and serious, charges. Instead of delivering him to the police, the lodgers of Beacon Hill decide themselves to judge him: is he mad or sane?
The second part promises to give some explanations; I am very curious.

Distributism

Over these last months, I regularly heard about Chesterton's 'distributism', though I have never yet encountered in an actual book by Chesterton (no doubt because I am reading chronologically and not getting on too fast). I just watched a relevant episode of 'The apostle of common sense', though, and I am starting to get a certain feel for the subject.
First, we need to realize that there is something wrong with both capitalism and socialism. The latter will give too much power, and property, to the government; in the former power and property will get concentrated in the hands of a few. In both systems, the normal man will not have too much power and property.
Distributism then favors the distribution of property: each man should have some property, preferably property that generates something useful. Small shop owners and small peasants are ideal distributists. Big business is wrong, because the big shops etc make small shops disappear.
What I read on the internet on distributism is mainly viewed from a strictly catholic viewpoint. The family unit should be as independent as possible. Consumerism is (rightly) condemned.
Still, I do not see how a distributist society could be developed, and once it exists, how it can function.

Innocent Smith

'Orthodoxy' is, according to a commentary I looked over, closely related to the three novels Chesterton wrote in the following years: 'The ball and the cross', 'Manalive' and 'The flying inn'. The first of these three I recently read; it exposes the madness of materialistic science quite interestingly. Today, I started 'Manalive'.
It is difficult to give a first impression. The main character, Innocent Smith, comes to a lodging house as on a great wind. He is a peculiar person, running after his hat, climbing a tree, comparing the simple organizing niece of the lodging house to Joan of Arc, picnicking on the roof, etc. The other lodgers, when they barely follow all his actions, admit to his energy and joy and sense of 'aliveness': something they realize they miss in their own lives.

Orthodoxy

For the last two weeks, I have been rereading 'Orthodoxy'. It certainly bears rereading very well; I actually followed the arguments much better this second time (especially since I had never encountered Chesterton before I read 'Orthodoxy').
In the last chapters we see why Chesterton actually became a Christian. After he concluded that

Orthodoxy is not only (as is often urged) the only safe guardian of morality or order, but is also the only logical guardian of liberty, innovation and advance. If we wish to pull down the prosperous oppressor we cannot do it with the new doctrine of human perfectibility; we can do it with the old doctrine of Original Sin. If we want to uproot inherent cruelties or lift up lost populations we cannot do it with the scientific theory that matter precedes mind; we can do it with the supernatural theory that mind precedes matter. If we wish specially to awaken people to social vigilance and tireless pursuit of practice, we cannot help it much by insisting on the Immanent God and the Inner Light: for these are at best reasons for contentment; we can help it much by insisting on the transcendent God and the flying and escaping gleam; for that means divine discontent. If we wish particularly to assert the idea of a generous balance against that of a dreadful autocracy we shall instinctively be Trinitarian rather than Unitarian. If we desire European civilization to be a raid and a rescue, we shall insist rather that souls are in real peril than that their peril is ultimately unreal. And if we wish to exalt the outcast and the crucified, we shall rather wish to think that a veritable God was crucified, rather than a mere sage or hero. Above all, if we wish to protect the poor we shall be in favor of fixed rules and clear dogmas. 

At this point in Chesterton's spiritual journey, he has not yet committed himself; he has not taken the 'leap of faith'. He merely points out that he has a lot of facts and arguments which point in the same direction. He realizes that as a democrat and as someone who rejects materialistic dogmatism, he has the freedom to accept miracles.
Chesterton's ultimate reasons to accept Christianity, however, circle around his realization that there is life and truth and joy in the church. If the unpromising dogmas of the church have such good consequences, if he has already learned so much, perhaps there is more than he knows at this moment. In this church of Christ, there is life, and within its boundaries there is the true possibility of joy.

Paradoxes and revolution

In Chapter 6 of 'Orthodoxy', Chesterton notes that Christianity 'was attacked on all sides and for contradictory reasons'. Some found it too meek, some too aggressive. Some found its focus on family wrong, some the cloisters. Then Chesterton realizes that there are two kinds of institutions that would fit the description: one with an 'odd shape' and one with 'the right shape'. He concludes that Christianity might be the 'normal thing, the center'. Perhaps, the states, 'Christianity is sane and all its critics are mad - in various ways'.
Christianity, instead of finding the perfect middle between different virtues, seeks to combine them all without blending: there is room for Joan of Arc and for Francis of Assisi. 'The real problem is - can the lion lie down with the lamb and still retain its royal ferocity? That is the problem the Church attempted; that is the miracle she achieved'.
After realizing that the so-called Christian 'paradoxes' exactly mirror the oddities in this world, the argument in chapter seven is about the possibility of improvement. Chesterton notes three sine qua non 's for genuine improvement, all of which ultimately coincide with Christianity.
First and foremost, we need a fixed ideal for any kind of progress. 'The modern young man will never change his environment; for he will always change his mind.' When we change our objective every week, we will never attain it and the old institutions will remain in place.
'Second, it must be composite. It must not (if it is to satisfy our souls) be the mere victory of some one thing swallowing up everything else, love or pride or peace or adventure; it must be a definite picture composed of these elements in their best proportion and relation'. Of course, this implies that there would be an artist.
The third point is that Utopia is fragile. Man will always have to continue to strive for perfection, things will never remain perfect. This, of course, is a result (and an indication) of the Fall.
As a concluding argument, Chesterton shows that Christianity is truly democratic: it is humble enough to try to listen to simple people.
All these arguments in these two chapters are not proofs of Christianity. They merely point out how Christianity coincides with a certain conception of the world (the conception that Chesterton finds reasonable). As explained in chapter one: Chesterton thought of how the world should be, and realized that he discovered Christianity.

The wisdom of Father Brown

I took some time reading this collection of stories. Reading these stories, I started wondering at the person of Father Brown: he is seldom in his parish (once, there is mention of his having been at Mass). He is just the right person in the right place. Sometimes his solutions to crimes, even when he hears the story third-hand, is fairytale-like, but usually his arguments are compelling.
I particularly liked 'The strange crime of John Boulnois'; 'The absence of mr. Glass' was one other story where I enjoyed two different explanations of the same facts.