Syme sprang to his feet, shaking from head to foot. 'I see everything,' he cried, 'everything that there is. Why does each thing on the earth war against each other thing? Why does each small thing in the world have to fight against the world itself? Why does a fly have to fight the whole universe? Why does a dandelion have to fight the whole universe? For the same reason that I had to be alone in the dreadful Council of Days. So that each thing that obeys law may have the glory and isolation of the anarchist. So that each man fighting for order may be as brave and good a man as the dynamiter. So that the real lie of Satan may be flung back in the face of this blasphemer, so that by tears and torture we may earn the right to say to this man, "You lie!" No agonies can be too great to buy the right to say to this accuser, "We also have suffered."
That is a paragraph near the end of G.K. Chesterton's masterpiece, "The Man Who Was Thursday: A Nightmare", which I finished reading this morning. It's a fascinating little book from 1908, a time when there were a great deal of anarchy movements throughout Europe (Archduke Franz Ferdinand's assassins had ties to an anarchy group.) Though I think it is just as relevant today. Each generation must feel that it is on the precipice of collapse into chaos and anarchy. Are the problems we face today any more or less severe than those that faced the generation witnessing the complete destruction of Europe in 1914, and again in 1939? Are our problems today any worse than those that faced the Romans as the Huns sacked and pillaged their city? The world is always on the brink of collapse, and it would easily plunge into anarchy but for the actions of those small few who would see the world not collapse.
I bought the book many many years ago, having heard Neil Gaiman talk about it on a few occasions, but I delayed in reading it up until now. It will take me a good while, and probably another reading, to really wrap my head around all of the things going on in it. It's not terribly long, clocking in at under 150 pages, but there's a lot of subtle, complicated ideas at play.
A man named Syme gets into an argument one evening with a man named Gregory. Gregory, an impassioned anarchist and poet, says that only anarchy can give birth to true art, and only in anarchy can the spirit of man be truly fulfilled. Syme disagrees with him, seeing the greatest art in the world being based in order. He sees far greater beauty in a timely subway schedule than in the dazzling spectacle and ferocious power of a detonating stick of dynamite. Whereas Gregory says mankind is full of sadness and lament for knowing that the subway will come on time, Syme argues the sheer magnificence and wonder that of all things that could happen in the universe, the train actually makes it to the station it intends, at the time that we expect it to arrive.
"Chaos is dull; because in chaos the train might indeed go anywhere, to Baker Street, or to Bagdad. But man is a magician, and his whole magic is in this, that he does say Victoria, and lo! it is Victoria."
Syme eventually questions how serious of an anarchist Gregory is, which entices Gregory to prove his seriousness to Syme. He decides to lead Syme somewhere significant, but first he first makes Syme promise not to tell anyone about what he may see that night. Syme agrees, and Gregory reveals to him that he is part of a secret anarchist group; he also takes Syme to his branch's secret meeting room beneath a tavern, where his compatriots will soon meet to elect a new representative to the High Anarchist European Council. Syme, astounded by what he sees, and just moments before the meeting is to take place, asks Gregory to return to him the promise that he himself has made, asking Gregory not to tell anyone what Syme might choose to reveal to him. Gregory reluctantly agrees, and Syme then tells Gregory that he is actually an undercover detective, assigned the task of rooting out secret anarchist groups!
With both men bound by an oath to not reveal their true identities to anyone, Syme, through certain machinations, manages to get himself elected to the High Anarchist European Council, taking on the code name "Thursday." (There are 7 members of the Council, all named after days of the week.) It is then that Syme meets the leader of the group, Sunday, a man who seems to be as powerful, and as large, as a god might be.
The book ends up being quite funny and farcical. But it also raises some very interesting theological questions about our relationship with God. As I said, it will take me quite some time to wrap my head around all of what's going on in the book. I will probably need to do some further research on the book to truly grasp what the point of it was. But I'm guessing the bulk of the purpose of the book rests in the paragraph I posted above. That the man who governs and fights for order suffers just as greatly for the cause as does the revolutionist. And perhaps God is the one who suffers the most. "Can ye drink of the cup that I drink of?"
I have another Chesterton book, "The Napoleon of Notting Hill", that I will have to read one day. I also downloaded a bunch of audio recordings of his short stories "The Tales of Father Brown", which are a bunch of mystery stories with a Catholic Priest as the protagonist. I'm very much looking forward to hearing those. Chesterton also has a number of theological essays that I would like to read one day, if I can find a copy anywhere.
(For those who have read The Sandman, Chesterton makes a number of appearances in those comics, with the character of Gilbert being based on him.)
I'm not quite sure what I will read next. I think I will try to tackle a few more Gene Wolfe short stories: specifically, "The Hero as Werwolf," and "The Death of Doctor Island." Gene Wolfe is my go-to author. Whenever I am not sure what I want to read next, I invariably end up reading something by him. I never tire of him.
Incidentally, Gene Wolfe has a new book coming out in March, called "The Sorceror's House." I love how he is well into his 80s, but still manages to release a new novel practically every year. I wish I will one day be as productive as he is.
Now I must away myself from Blogger, to begin drafting a treatment of a short film idea I had a few weeks ago. It's called "Coyote."
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