The Man Who Was Thursday

Oh, now you're talking. This would have to be one of my favourites, although the Napoleon of Notting Hill is also very fine. What I love most about Thursday is the easy way he moves from Buchan type thriller to philosophy to whimsy, to high comedy and back again, often all on the same page. Yet it is never jarring, and each time he pulls off the trick (I won't spoil it for those who haven't read it), it still surprises you. I'm not sure if my favourite part is the deliberately provoked argument to incite a duel and prevent the villain catching the train, the secret language of fingers, the breathtaking debate about the poetry in order versus chaos or the old man drinking the milk. I honestly don't think there's much to better this, and the prose is so soft and supple that you barely notice how much goes into each sentence, it just washes over you building up a picture the way Monet did.

I've posted this up before, but it really is a magnificent piece of writing, often described as an essay about nothing at all that turns out to be about everything. http://www.chesterton-library.net/chalk.txt The character in my Ambitious Mirrors story is more than a nod towards the Man who was Thursday, that and Neil Gaiman's idea of a library where the books that were never written exist and containing Chesterton's sequel "The Man who was October"

I thought Thursday was the kind of book that nowerdays would be criticised for being overblown and self-indulgent, since there seems to be a current love of simplicity, accessibility and realism. The conversation between Gregory and Symes at the beginning is unreal - can you imagine any two people you know conversing in such a way? Yet I enjoyed it very much; its exactly the kind of unrealness I like in a book. There is realism and 'real life' in it, but it isn't like listening to two people in the street. I don't see anything wrong with something clear and realistic like that - a very delicate, precise sketch of two people talking, say - but I find it frustrating that indulgence in language and the fantastical is regarded as pretentious these days.

OK - you got me. I know the name (of course) can't think what I have read of his (apart from poems at school) but will try this - I promise! e-griff