Lately I have been reading Orthodoxy by G. K. Chesterton. It is not a very long book (155 pages) but it is taking me a long time to read. Chesterton is an incredibly deep thinker. Every other sentence is a profound observation that forces me to stop and ponder. It is a lovely feeling; I am forced to think on an entirely different level. Chesterton writes about theology and philosophy and other seemingly dry topics but he does so with such pleasure and imagination that it is hard not to get swept up in it. I understand C.S. Lewis so much better as I read Chesterton. Lewis’s works feel like the natural outcropping of Chesterton’s ideas.
In fact, I would say that feeling goes beyond Lewis. I understand stories and imagination at a different level reading Chesterton.
I just finished page 120 and while a part of me longs to finish the book up and read the other 35 pages this morning, another part of me simply wants to savor what I’ve just read. I am definitely going to need to re-read this one. Probably with a highlighter.