He actually thought that fairy tales ought not to be told to children. That is like a belief in slavery or annexation one of those intellectual errors which lie very near to ordinary mortal sins. There are some refusals which, though they may be done what is called conscientiously, yet carry so much of their whole horror in the very act of them, that a man must in doing them not only harden but slightly corrupt his heart.
One of them was the refusal of milk to young mothers when their husbands were in the field against us. Another is the refusal of fairy tales to children. The man had come to see me in connection with some silly society of which I am an enthusiastic member; he was a fresh-coloured, short-sighted young man, like a stray curate who was too helpless even to find his way to the Church of England. He had a curious green necktie and a very long neck; I am always meeting idealists with very long necks. Perhaps it is that their eternal aspiration slowly lifts their heads nearer and nearer to the stars.
Or perhaps it has something to do with the fact that so many of them are vegetarians: These things are in every sense above me. Such, anyhow, was the young man who did not believe in fairy tales; and by a curious coincidence he entered the room when I had just finished looking through a pile of contemporary fiction, and had begun to read "Grimm's Fairy tales" as a natural consequence. The modern novels stood before me, however, in a stack; and you can imagine their titles for yourself.
There was "Suburban Sue: A Tale of Psychology," and also "Psychological Sue: A Tale of Suburbia"; there was "Trixy: A Temperament," and "Man-Hate: A Monochrome," and all those nice things.
Tremendous Trifles
I read them with real interest, but, curiously enough, I grew tired of them at last, and when I saw "Grimm's Fairy Tales" lying accidentally on the table, I gave a cry of indecent joy. Here at least, here at last, one could find a little common sense. I opened the book, and my eyes fell on these splendid and satisfying words, "The Dragon's Grandmother. I listened to what he said about the society politely enough, I hope; but when he incidentally mentioned that he did not believe in fairy tales, I broke out beyond control. It is much easier to believe in Blue Beard than to believe in you.
A blue beard is a misfortune; but there are green ties which are sins. It is far easier to believe in a million fairy tales than to believe in one man who does not like fairy tales. I would rather kiss Grimm instead of a Bible and swear to all his stories as if they were thirty-nine articles than say seriously and out of my heart that there can be such a man as you; that you are not some temptation of the devil or some delusion from the void. Look at these plain, homely, practical words.
If there was a dragon, he had a grandmother. But you--you had no grandmother! If you had known one, she would have taught you to love fairy tales. You had no father, you had no mother; no natural causes can explain you. The Ballad of the White Horse. What's Wrong with the World.
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The Ball and the Cross. The Napoleon of Notting Hill. The Club of Queer Trades. The Man Who Was Thursday. The Annotated Innocence of Father Brown. Also, his preference is exactly the way I like to draw, in every detail. Throughout, the essays provoke laughter, and nodding of my head, and blank stares as a new way of looking at things unwinds behind my eyes. There is the hansom cab that throws him out, and the cows which gather to consult about his strange behavior, and the croquet game which alarms him which was one of my favorites , and, of course, his pocket contents … I would start listing my favorite quotes, but that would encompass most of the book.
What a gift and treasure this book is. Oh — the 14th belongs to Basil the Great, Bishop of Cae. But how did that happen? This will bear further looking into. Though his response might be somewhat erratic… View all 4 comments. Mar 24, Jesse Broussard rated it it was amazing Shelves: This is simply essential reading for any fan of Chesterton.
A collection of essays on all sorts of topics: His prose here tends to be more playful than in his fiction, making him the essay writer that is the exception to Lewis' rule in Horse and His Boy. I still cannot comprehen This is simply essential reading for any fan of Chesterton. I still cannot comprehend exactly how he does what he does with words. It isn't forced or strained, as he produced a staggering amount of material, he just sees the world in a wholly different way than anyone else.
He knew of his reputation for paradox, but seemed somewhat exasperated by it, as he comments that he isn't the one that made the world stand on its head. He really is a chap that I would have loved to have met, to have simply followed around, or to have been able to record what his brain did and where his imagination took him in the course of any given hour. As it is, I'm surfacing for air and reminding myself that other authors exist paltry and pasty beings though they be after the ferocious life and blinding colour of the Fat Catholic , and then I shall dive again when my lungs can sustain me longer.
Perhaps one day I shall find--and this is an eternal dream of mine--than not only have I become a good man, but a Chestertonian one: May 23, Ali M. I've been carrying this book around at work the past couple of weeks, and reading the very short chapters "trifles" on my breaks has been a big part of what's kept me sane.
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- Tremendous Trifles by G. K. Chesterton.
Chesterton is so good for one's perspective. He is such a healthy human being. He takes joy in the ordinary, unravelling the divine in the contents of his pocket and in the chaos of a train station. His whole premise is that there are two ways of viewing the world: As far as Chesterton is concerned, the latter is the only honest way of living and I'd agree with him.
The world is a strange, uncommon place, and we are uncommon creatures in it.
As he writes, "The world will never starve for want of wonders, but only for want of wonder. Fifty years before the New Journalism, Chesterton joyfully and openly fiddles the facts in the columns collected here. He's often in as altered a state as Hunter S T ever managed, too - albeit a far more genial visionary. Alternately, one could almost consider this a proto-blog, given the introduction in which he says a diary kept for the public, and which keeps him in bread and cheese, is the only sort he could ever keep.
Either way, he puts most of his successors to shame with the grandeur and Fifty years before the New Journalism, Chesterton joyfully and openly fiddles the facts in the columns collected here. Either way, he puts most of his successors to shame with the grandeur and delight he can pack into a brief piece. Oddly heartening, too, to be reminded of how much remains constant over a century: Tremendously written essays on a vast array of trifling subjects.
Brilliant and thought-provoking, yet also good humored and charming. Chesterton somehow manages to come across as being inordinately humble and likable, while still giving the impression of being one of the wisest men ever to walk the Earth. Modern intellectuals can't even come close to matching Chesterton's wit, brainpower, and literary sophistication. In comparison, guys like Christopher Hitchens and Dinesh D'Souza seem like the Tremendously written essays on a vast array of trifling subjects. Chesterton 's Tremendous Trifles is one of my favorite collections of the author's essays.
So many of the essays have a refreshing offhand quality, as if they were dashed off in a pub while its author was quaffing an ale. That could be true.
Some of them are classics. In the fo G. In the former, Chesterton begins: I find that there really are human beings who think fairy tales bad for children. I do not speak of the man in the green tie, for him I can never count truly human. But a lady has written me an earnest letter saying that fairy tales ought not to be taught to children even if they are true. She says that it is cruel to tell children fairy tales, because it frightens them.
You might just as well say that it is cruel to give girls sentimental novels because it makes them cry. All this kind of talk is based on that complete forgetting of what a child is like which has been the firm foundation of so many educational schemes. If you keep bogies and goblins away from children they would make them up for themselves. One small child in the dark can invent more hells than Swedenborg. One small child can imagine monsters too big and black to get into any picture, and give them names too unearthly and cacophonous to have occurred in the cries of any lunatic.
The child, to begin with, commonly likes horrors, and he continues to indulge in them even when he does not like them. There is just as much difficulty in saying exactly where pure pain begins in his case, as there is in ours when we walk of our own free will into the torture-chamber of a great tragedy. The fear does not come from fairy tales; the fear comes from the universe of the soul.
Actually, most of the essays are wonderful -- and just the thing to make you feel better if you are down in the dumps. In fact, if you have not previously read Chesterton, I recommend Tremendous Trifles as a good place to start reading his voluminous work. Apr 10, Grace rated it really liked it. These 39 essays were fascinating. Chesterton puts things in such interesting ways that both marvel and please me I only wish I could understand his brilliance better.
One of my favorite chapters was his writing about his experience as a juror. After he entertains you a bit he lays out a powerful argument on why it is so important that juries are made up of ordinary people. It wishes for light upon that awful matter, it asks men who know nothing more of the law than I know, but who can feel the things that I felt in the jury box.
The Dragon's Grandmother
He tells of a time when he was browsing and noticed so many new novels and soon grew tired looking at them until his eyes alighted on "Grimm's Fairy Tales". He says he gave an indecent cry of joy. Excellent insights in each essay. A collection of essays in which Chesterton holds forth on all sorts of topics -- some actually trifling, some not -- in a vast, expansive manner.
Not for people not in a mood for whimsy. An extended metaphor about the wind and the trees and the realities of life: The time he went on a trip: More than a month ago, when I was leaving London for a holiday, a friend walked into my flat in Battersea and found me surrounded with half-packed luggage.
My remark contained no wit. It contained simply the truth. I am going to wander over the whole world until once more I find Battersea. Somewhere in the seas of sunset or of sunrise, somewhere in the ultimate archipelago of the earth, there is one little island which I wish to find: Travellers tell me that it is called England Scotch travellers tell me that it is called Britain , and there is a rumour that somewhere in the heart of it there is a beautiful place called Battersea.
I cannot see any Battersea here; I cannot see any London or any England. I cannot see that door. I cannot see that chair: The only way to get back to them is to go somewhere else; and that is the real object of travel and the real pleasure of holidays. Do you suppose that I go to France in order to see France? Do you suppose that I go to Germany in order to see Germany? I shall enjoy them both; but it is not them that I am seeking. I am seeking Battersea.
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The whole object of travel is not to set foot on foreign land; it is at last to set foot on one's own country as a foreign land. Now I warn you that this Gladstone bag is compact and heavy, and that if you utter that word 'paradox' I shall hurl it at your head. I did not make the world, and I did not make it paradoxical. It is not my fault, it is the truth, that the only way to go to England is to go away from it. Jul 19, Joel rated it really liked it. This is a collection of essays, originally printed as newspaper columns, written a century ago.
The conceit is that Chesterton begins with ordinary objects and incidents, and uses them as a springboard to examine weightier matters of philosophy, religion, politics, and morality. There is a great deal of imagination here, and humor as well. Like most philosophers, Chesterton has a tendency to let his thoughts get away from him. There are wild over-generalizations, non sequiturs, flights of fancy; This is a collection of essays, originally printed as newspaper columns, written a century ago.
There are wild over-generalizations, non sequiturs, flights of fancy; I found about half the book to be nonsense your mileage may vary. There are a good many references to public personages who may have been well-known in England a century ago, but are unfamiliar today. These flaws are forgivable for several reasons: If you think he's full of hot air in this essay, it's just a couple pages until you reach a different one, which you may like better. Some of his longer philosophical works can be virtually unreadable if you don't share his Catholic sensibilities; his essays, however, are much easier to recommend.
Even when I decided that I couldn't agree with his outlook, I found the experience of seeing things from his perspective worthwhile. Aug 14, Leslie rated it really liked it Shelves: Chesterton writes from another time, yet his wisdom resonates with me today. My favorite chapter from this collection of stories is "The Advantages of Having One Leg," from which I draw this memorable quote: The way to love anything is to realise that it might be lost. In one of my feet I can feel how strong and splendid a foot is; in Brilliant and fun!
In one of my feet I can feel how strong and splendid a foot is; in the other I can realise how very much otherwise it might have been. The moral of the thing is wholly exhilarating. This world and all our powers in it are far more awful and beautiful than even we know until some accident reminds us. If you wish to perceive that limitless felicity, limit yourself if only for a moment. If you wish to realise how fearfully and wonderfully God's image is made, stand on one leg. If you want to realise the splendid vision of all visible things-- wink the other eye.
Mar 26, Justin Achilli rated it it was amazing. Marvelous; a case study of the outlook of a true fantasist.