A wonderful and whimsical collection of short essays on everything from sketching on brown paper and building toy theatres to the nature of Englishness and faith.
'Tremendous Trifles contains simply some of the best essays Chesterton ever wrote. They originally appeared in the Daily News, which Chesterton contributed to from 1901 to 1913, and which explains why people bought that paper.
Which is an idea so large it spills over into another essay, “A Piece of Chalk.” Here Chesterton describes how he has set out to do some drawing with his chalks, but is distressed to find that he has forgotten his white chalk. White is essential. White is a color. It is not merely the absence of color. It is “a shining and affirmative thing…it draws stars.” As white is to art, so is virtue to religion. Virtue is a positive thing; not merely “the absence of dangers or the avoidance of moral dangers…Chastity does not mean abstention from sexual wrong; it means something flaming, like Joan of Arc.”
In this book, Chesterton looks at the ordinary, common things and asks us to see how extraordinary and uncommon they are. The things in his pockets, the objects in a railway station, the people in the street. With these simple, random things he can defend Christianity, Western Civilization and Democracy. “Whatever is it that we are all looking for?” he asks at the beginning of an essay entitled “A Glimpse of My Country.” He suggests that what we are looking for lies very close; we just don’t manage to see it. It is a theme throughout the book, and throughout Chesterton’s writings that what appears to be a trifle is actually tremendous. In the title essay Chesterton crystallizes this truth in a perfect sentence that would go on to be inscribed on buildings and quoted by popes: “The world will never starve for want of wonders; but only for want of wonder.”
-- Dale Ahlquist, lecture for Chesterton University
The fragments of futile journalism or fleeting impression which are here collected are very like the wrecks and riven blocks that were piled in a heap round my imaginary priest of the sun. They are very like that grey and gaping head of stone that I found overgrown with the grass. Yet I will venture to make even of these trivial fragments the high boast that I am a medievalist and not a modern. That is, I really have a notion of why I have collected all the nonsensical things there are. I have not the patience nor perhaps the constructive intelligence to state the connecting link between all these chaotic papers. But it could be stated. This row of shapeless and ungainly monsters which I now set before the reader does not consist of separate idols cut out capriciously in lonely valleys or various islands. These monsters are meant for the gargoyles of a definite cathedral. I have to carve the gargoyles, because I can carve nothing else; I leave to others the angels and the arches and the spires. But I am very sure of the style of the architecture, and of the consecration of the church.
-- From the introduction
'before I finally desert the illusions of rationalism for the actualities of romance, I should very much like to write one last roaring, raging book telling all the rationalists not to be so utterly irrational... Do not talk such bosh. I implore you, I supplicate you not to talk such bosh. Utterly and absolutely abolish all such bosh—and we may yet begin to discuss these public questions properly.' -GKC
'the Chesterton wit and charm and gentle satire [and] hard-hitting controversy. And you will also find a distinct thread that ties it all together. [...] first published in 1912, the essays ... often refer to current events and personalities from the early 20th century: coal strikes and railway strikes, game laws, women’s suffrage, and British Imperialism. ... in every case the larger point being made is very clear and is not tied to a time and place – unless it is our time and place. Chesterton’s mere observations of an event, whether in a headline or outside his window could be expounded upon into huge timely treatises. It is because truth has ramifications. And because it is true.
The old controversies are still relevant. But each question points to a larger question. How do we assure the dignity and basic rights of the laborer? For whom does he labor: himself or some remote rich man? Does voting make any difference when our choices are so limited, when the choices themselves are not our choices but someone else’s? What is the nature of real democracy?' - Dale Ahlquist
'These old articles of mine because they cover a very controversial period, in which I was in nearly all the controversies, whether I was visible there or no. And I wish to gather up into this last article a valedictory violence about all such things; and then pass to where, beyond these voices, there is peace--or in other words, to the writing of Penny Dreadfuls; a noble and much-needed work.' -GKC
The fragments of futile journalism or fleeting impression which are here collected are very like the wrecks and riven blocks that were piled in a heap round my imaginary priest of the sun. They are very like that grey and gaping head of stone that I found overgrown with the grass. Yet I will venture to make even of these trivial fragments the high boast that I am a medievalist and not a modern. That is, I really have a notion of why I have collected all the nonsensical things there are. I have not the patience nor perhaps the constructive intelligence to state the connecting link between all these chaotic papers. But it could be stated. This row of shapeless and ungainly monsters which I now set before the reader does not consist of separate idols cut out capriciously in lonely valleys or various islands. These monsters are meant for the gargoyles of a definite cathedral. I have to carve the gargoyles, because I can carve nothing else; I leave to others the angels and the arches and the spires. But I am very sure of the style of the architecture, and of the consecration of the church.
-- From the introduction
'The Last Great Epic Poem in the English Language'
- Dale Ahlquist
'The ending is absurd. The brilliant smash and glitter of the words and phrases (when they come off, and are not mere loud colours) cannot disguise the fact that G. K. C. knew nothing whatever about the 'North', heathen or Christian.'
- JRR Tolkien
The tale of King Alfred, the Christian king who in 878AD battled a Viking invasion that had conquered the rest of England and burnt some cakes. He then became the last holdout of resistance against the invaders and forced the conversion of the Danish king Guthrum to Christianity after the battle of Ethandun. Chesterton says 'This ballad needs no historical notes, for the simple reason that it does not profess to be historical. All of it that is not frankly fictitious, as in any prose romance about the past, is meant to emphasize tradition rather than history. That is the use of tradition: it telescopes history.'
Named after the chalk horses carved into English hills (and partly set at Uffington), it begins with an exhortation to true Christianity in the face of despair and defeat, and ends with a prediction of more barbarian invasions. It focuses on the nature of faith in times of despair, and on the true strength of local kings in the face of empires.
'... you and all the kind of Christ
Are ignorant and brave,
And you have wars you hardly win
And souls you hardly save.
...
'In some far century, sad and slow,
I have a vision, and I know
The heathen shall return.
...
'They shall come mild as monkish clerks,
With many a scroll and pen;
And backward shall ye turn and gaze,
Desiring one of Alfred's days,
When pagans still were men.'
Victorian Poetry - Volume 1 - An Introduction. Victoria's reign was long and presided over the restless expansion of the British Empire and reams of creative genius. Within these volumes we can bring only a glimpse of the richness, beauty and words of their poets and their musings on this remarkable age. Many are world renowned - Tennyson, Browning, Arnold, Kipling, Austin, Hopkins, Hardy and Swinburne. Some almost forgotten - Patmore, Newbolt, Synge. And some barely noted - Lyall, Meynell and Merdeith. But together they encompass a great poetical age. In Volume 1 we collect together Matthew Arnold to Elizabeth Gaskell. Among our readers are Richard Mitchley and Ghizela Rowe.
As a poetical movement Georgian Poetry is easy to classify. It began naturally enough in 1910 when George V ascended to the throne of England. Edward Marsh, a civil servant, polymath and arts patron decided that the verse of that time needed to be seen in its own right and from 1912 - 1922 set out to publish anthologies. Marsh agreed a deal with the poet and bookseller Harold Munro, who had recently opened The Poetry Bookshop in London's Devonshire Street to publish the books in return for a share of the profits. Five volumes spanning some forty poets ranging from Rupert Brooke to GK Chesterton and DH Lawrence were published over the years and remain today the encyclopaedia of this poetical period. In this volume you will find the best work of the Georgian Poets.
