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G.K. Chesterton was born in London into a middle-class family on May 29, 1874. He studied at University College and the Slade School of Art (1893-96). Around 1893 he had gone through a crisis of skepticism and depression and during this period he experimented with the Ouija board and grew fascinated with diabolism. In 1895 Chesterton left University College without a degree and worked for the London publisher Redway, and T. Fisher Unwin (1896-1902). Chesterton later renewed his Christian faith; the courtship of his future wife, Frances Blogg, whom he married in 1901 also helped him to pull himself out of his spiritual crisis.
In 1900 appeared Greybeards At Play, Chesterton's first collection of poems. Robert Browning (1903) and Charles Dickens (1906) were literary biographies. The Napoleon Of Notting Hill (1904) was Chesterton's first novel, a political fantasy, in which London is seen as a city of hidden fairytale glitter. In The Man Who Was Thursday (1908) Chesterton depicted fin-de-siècle decadence.
In 1909 Chesterton moved with his wife to Beaconsfield, a village twenty-five miles west of London, and continued to write, lecture, and travel energetically. Between 1913 and 1914 Chesterton was a regular contributor for the Daily Herald. In 1914 he suffered a physical and nervous breakdown. After World War I Chesterton became leader of the Distributist movement and later the President of the Distributist League, promoting the idea that private property should be divided into smallest possible freeholds and then distributed throughout society..
In 1922 Chesterton was converted from Anglicanism to Roman Catholicism, and thereafter he wrote several theologically oriented works, including lives of Francis of Assisi and Thomas Aquinas. He received honorary degrees from Edinburgh, Dublin, and Notre Dame universities. Chesterton died on June 14, 1936, at his home in Beaconsfield.
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Christmas
Hi there, in his article "Christmas", Chesterton includes this rather obscure paragraph: Another instance of the same illogicality I observed the other day at some kind of "At Home." I saw what appeared to be a human being dressed in a black evening-coat, black dress-waistcoat, and black dress-trousers, but with a shirt-front made of Jaeger wool. What can be the sense of this sort of thing? If a man thinks hygiene more important than convention (a selfish and heathen view, for the beasts that perish are more hygienic than man, and man is only above them because he is more conventional), if, I say, a man thinks that hygiene is more important than convention, what on earth is there to oblige him to wear a shirt-front at all? But to take a costume of which the only conceivable cause or advantage is that it is a sort of uniform, and then not wear it in the uniform way—this is to be neither a Bohemian nor a gentleman. It is a foolish affectation, I think, in an English officer of the Life Guards never to wear his uniform if he can help it. But it would be more foolish still if he showed himself about town in a scarlet coat and a Jaeger breast-plate. It is the custom nowadays to have Ritual Commissions and Ritual Reports to make rather unmeaning compromises in the ceremonial of the Church of England. So perhaps we shall have an ecclesiastical compromise by which all the Bishops shall wear Jaeger copes and Jaeger mitres. Similarly the King might insist on having a Jaeger crown. But I do not think he will, for he understands the logic of the matter better than that. The modern monarch, like a reasonable fellow, wears his crown as seldom as he can; but if he does it at all, then the only point of a crown is that it is a crown. So let me assure the unknown gentleman in the woollen vesture that the only point of a white shirt-front is that it is a white shirt-front. Stiffness may be its impossible defect; but it is certainly its only possible merit." First of all, what does he mean by "at some kind of 'At Home'"? And then, what do you think the key idea to understand the "illogicality" of this combination of clothes is? For your information, I am translating the article into Spanish. Thank you very much. (If you are interested in being consulted about English-Spanish translation matters, please send me a private message and we can keep in touch.)
Posted By Juan at Sat 19 Nov 2011, 5:43 AM in Chesterton, Gilbert Keith || 0 Replies
A Christmas Carol poem by G.K.Chesterton
The Christ-child lay on Mary's lap, His hair was like a light. (O weary, weary were the world, But here is all aright.) The Christ-child lay on Mary's breast His hair was like a star. (O stern and cunning are the kings, But here the true hearts are.) The Christ-child lay on Mary's heart, His hair was like a fire. (O weary, weary is the world, But here the world's desire.) The Christ-child stood on Mary's knee, His hair was like a crown, And all the flowers looked up at Him, And all the stars looked down
Posted By jigz at Wed 8 Oct 2008, 6:03 AM in Chesterton, Gilbert Keith || 0 Replies
Chesterton - Therefore your doom is on you
Hello "Therefore your doom is on you, Is on you and your kings" From which works of Chesterton?
Posted By konohazuku at Mon 12 Feb 2007, 3:23 AM in Chesterton, Gilbert Keith || 3 Replies
Missing works
I'm a fan of G.K. Chesterton as an author, and searched for several works of his which returned no results. To wit: Heretics, Orthodoxy, Eugenics and Other Evils, and probably more. The reason I think these are interesting is because of the apparent recursive recapitulation of History in the nature of events which men choose to manage in order to dispose of their responsibilities. These dispositions have tended to separate individuals on more than mere personal issues, but rather on moral issues affecting the innocent and the experienced. It seems Mr. Chesterton has sufficient nails on his literary fingers to dig into the oily skin of reptillian hypocrites.:)
Posted By hillhopper at Sun 5 Nov 2006, 4:42 PM in Chesterton, Gilbert Keith || 1 Reply