Known for his witty style, the amazingly prolific author G.K. Chesterton wrote in many genres, including fiction, biography, poetry,theology, history, as well as a myriad of essays. He was one of the most belovedwriters in England during the first part of the 20th century.
On this day in 1912, biographer Hugh Lunn interviewedChesterton for the Hearth and Home magazine. He began with a description of the great man, “Everyoneknows Mr Chesterton’s appearance, a good portly man, i’ faith, and acorpulence, like Falstaff. His writings, too, have become familiar, winningmany disciples, especially among the young. At Oxford the Chestertonian and theShavian are well-known types: the Shavian enthroned above human emotion isclever, but a prig; the Chestertonian, less brilliant, is more likeable. Hedoesn’t care for advanced ideas, but he would like to combine wit and probity.So he welcomes a writer who defends old modes of thought with humor, andattacks modern thinkers on the ground that they are antiquated bores indisguise.”
Lunn was soon to discover that, with Chesterton, there wasmuch more than met the eye—despite the fact that his rotund figure wassufficient to fill the eye. With aglint of good humor, Chesterton began with characteristic words, “I am alwaysready to be interviewed, for I hold the theory, nowadays completelyforgotten—as forgotten as this matchbox was still this moment (fishing a boxout of a bowl on the mantelpiece)—the theory that the Press is a public agora.I should not refuse an interview even to a paper owned by one of thosecapitalist millionaires, whom I hate. Nowadays the Press merely echoes thepowerful; its real aim should be to give the public a chance to state itsviews.”
Lunn could hardly get a word in edgewise, so the interviewturned into something of a monolog—a forum for the great man to hold forth onall manner of ideas, much like his writing, “And now what do you want me totalk about? I am ready to give my opinion on any question, whether I knowsomething about it or not. No, I’m not an Imperialist in the modern sense; theonly theory of Imperialism that seems to me sound is Dante’s. He defended theRoman Empire as the best human government, on the definite ground that the besthuman government would probably crucify God. Caesar had to be lawful; becauseChrist had to be killed by law.”
With that, he paused with a smile to ask Lunn what questionshe really wanted to put upon the table. He should not have bothered, before hecould reply, Chesterton was off again, “I do not believe in Cosmopolitanism,you know: nowadays it’s either run by financiers for their own profit, or it’sthe product of Atheistic Socialism, as in Germany. Christ didn’t come to bringpeace among the nations. When He said that a man should turn the other cheek, Ifancy He meant that a man, when attacked, should humiliate his enemy bytreating him with sudden and unexpected contempt.”
And so it went for nigh on an hour. Lunn had to admit afterward, “I had altogetherunderestimated the tornado of thought and creativity and imagination that thejolly figure of Chesterton contained.” To which Chesterton later retorted, “It is always better to beunderestimated than overestimated—that way, all good things are taken as if bysurprise and are therefore all the more appreciated.” Appreciated, Chesterton surely is.
