A Nightmare (Penguin Classics) - The Man Who Was Thursday

Michael Reid's review of this wonderful book (whatever it is--nightmare, novel, allegory, etc.) is very close to my own feelings about it. It defies most traditional critical approaches, just as the characters in it are themselves continually foiled and re-educated in their encounters with some of the weirdest people and situations in 20th-century fiction. It is a slam on anarchism and political mischief-making, but it is also a slam on the moralistic, "quick-fix" crusaders against rocking the boat, most of whom lack the spirit and wisdom of their opposition. It is also extremely funny, improvisatory in its layout, and in no hurry to give the reader a tidy conclusion. Like reviewer Reid, I like thinking of the book as a nightmare--try reading it after reading or listening to W. S. Gilbert's "Nightmare" song from his Iolanthe (written with Sullivan). There seems to be no rhyme or reason to what happens, and perhaps there isn't, but the astounding thing is that, despite all of the detours, digressions, and about-faces, everything comes out beautifully right in the end. I love re-reading this book because I never feel bored by it; on the contrary, I feel as if I'm always rediscovering something I haven't quite looked at before. And as for Chesterton's prose style... well, I can't think of too many people--a mere handful at best--who have excelled Chesterton in writing sentences that glitter, twine around my mind, and leave me dumbfounded by their loveliness.

For a book that's only about a hundred pages long, "The Man Who Was Thursday" is pretty packed.

G.K. Chesterton's classic novella tackles anarchy, social order, God, peace, war, religion, human nature, and a few dozen other weight concepts. And somehow he manages to mash it all together into a delightful satire, full of tongue-in-cheek commentary that is still relevant today.

As the book opens, Gabriel Symes is debating with a soapbox anarchist. The two men impress each other enough that the anarchist introduces Symes to a seven-man council of anarchists, all named after days of the week. In short order, they elect Symes their newest member -- Thursday.

But they don't know that he's also been recruited by an anti-anarchy organization. And soon Symes finds out that he's not the only person on the council who is not what he seems. There are other spies and double-agents, working for the same cause. But who -- and what -- is the jovial, powerful Mr. Sunday, the head of the organization?

Hot air balloons, elaborate disguises, duels and police chases -- Chesterton certainly knew how to keep this novel interesting. Though written almost a century ago, "The Man Who Was Thursday" still feels very fresh. That's partly because of Chesterton's cheery writing... and partly because it's such an intelligent book.

He doesn't avoid some timeless topics that make some people squirm. Humanity (good and bad), anarchy, religion and its place in human nature, and creation versus destruction all get tackled here -- disguised as a comic police investigation. And unlike most satires, it isn't dated; the topics are reflections of humanity and religion, so they're as relevant now as they were in 1908.

But the story isn't pedantic or boring; Chesterton keeps things lively by having his characters act like real people, rather than mouthpieces. From Symes to the Colonel to the mysterious Sunday himself, they all have a sort of friendly, energetic quality. "We're all spies! Come and have a drink!" one of the characters announces cheerfully near the end.

And of course, once the madcap police investigations are finished, there's still a mystery. Who is Sunday? What are his goals? And for that matter, WHAT is Sunday -- genius, force of nature, villain or god? The answer is a bit of a surprise, and as a reflection of Chesterton's beliefs, it's a delicate, intelligent piece of work.

"The Man Who Was Thursday" is a wacky little satire that will both amuse and educate you. Not bad for a book often subtitled "A Nightmare."

Like Kafka, and TV's The Prisoner (1960's), The Many Who was Thursday is a terrific read. Below this review is a spoiler, so don't read anything past this paragraph - I can tell you if you are wondering sometimes at what or who is behind the headlines - one can suspect that Chesterton had some interesting ideas about 'world wide conspiracy' and what or how was behind them. I feel lucky to have found this book, it was an unexpected joy, and will be read again.

Warning: Spoiler Alert!!!

In a surreal turn-of-the-century London, Gabriel Syme, a poet, is recruited to a secret anti-anarchist task-force at Scotland Yard. Lucian Gregory, an anarchist poet, is the only poet in Saffron Park, until he loses his temper in an argument over the purpose of poetry with Gabriel Syme, who takes the opposite view. After some time, the frustrated Gregory finds Syme and leads him to a local anarchist meeting-place to prove that he is a true anarchist. Instead of the anarchist Gregory getting elected, the officer Syme uses his wits and is elected as the local representative to the worldwide Central Council of Anarchists. The Council consists of seven men, each using the name of a day of the week as a code name; Syme is given the name of Thursday. In his efforts to thwart the council's intentions, however, he discovers that five of the other six members are also undercover detectives; each was just as mysteriously employed and assigned to defeat the Council of Days. They all soon find out that they are fighting each other and not real anarchists; such was the mastermind plan of the genius Sunday. In a dizzying and surreal conclusion, the six champions of order and former anarchist ring-leaders chase down the disturbing and whimsical Sunday, the man who calls himself "The Peace of God".

In a surreal turn-of-the-century London, Gabriel Syme, a poet, is recruited to a secret anti-anarchist taskforce at Scotland Yard. Lucian Gregory, an anarchist poet, is the only poet in Saffron Park, until he loses his temper in an argument over the purpose of poetry with Gabriel Syme, who takes the opposite view. After some time, the frustrated Gregory finds Syme and leads him to a local anarchist meeting-place to prove that he is a true anarchist. Instead of the anarchist Gregory getting elected, the officer Syme uses his wits and is elected as the local representative to the worldwide Central Council of Anarchists. The Council consists of seven men, each using the name of a day of the week as a code name; Syme is given the name of Thursday. The Secretary is Monday, Radcliffe is Wednesday, Gogol is Tuesday, Professor Worms is Friday, Dr Bull is Saturday and the President is Sunday. In his efforts to thwart the council's intentions, however, Syme discovers that five of the other six members are also undercover detectives; each was just as mysteriously employed and assigned to defeat the Council of Days. They all soon find out that they are fighting each other and not real anarchists; such was the mastermind plan of the genius Sunday. In a dizzying and surreal conclusion, the six champions of order and former anarchist ring-leaders chase down the disturbing and whimsical Sunday, the man who calls himself "The Peace of God".
The book was intended to describe the world of wild doubt and despair which the pessimists were generally describing at the beginning of the 20th century; with just a gleam of hope in some double meaning of the doubt, which even the pessimists felt in some fitful fashion.

"The Man Who was Thursday" is a fantastic, bizarre puzzle that defies attempts at explanation or description. On the surface, it is a spy story about anarchistic terrorists with elements of suspense and paranoia; as you dig a little deeper, a black comedy emerges; peeling back a few more layers reveals a philosophical underbelly; and it all ends in an uproariously enigmatic denouement worthy of Lewis Carroll. If the book is, as its subtitle indicates, a nightmare, we all should hope to have dreams as sweet as this.
The hero, Gabriel Syme, is a poet-detective (yes, seriously) who works for a special branch of Scotland Yard dedicated to apprehending "intellectual" criminals, particularly anarchists, because they tend to be the most subversive and therefore the most dangerous. By operating undercover as a poet-anarchist, Syme manages to infiltrate the seven-member Central Anarchist Council, who alias themselves using the names of the days of the week, and fills the vacant slot of "Thursday." The Council's main directive is to cast the world into chaos by assassinating heads of state, and their current plan, as masterminded by their president, "Sunday," is to bomb the upcoming meeting of the Russian Czar and the French president in Paris.
It is, of course, up to Syme/Thursday, who is always at risk of being exposed as a policeman, to put a stop to this nefarious scheme, to which there is naturally more than meets the eye. As the plot unfolds, it breaks down (or builds up) into an indescribably wild farce; Syme's mission turns into a picaresque adventure of disguises, a swordfight, and several chases -- involving horses, cars, an elephant, and a hot-air balloon. At the end of the book, a surprise is waiting; a strange detachment from everything that has preceded it, which slyly lets the reader in on its symbolic joke. If not for its relentlessly silly tone and idiosyncratic resolution, "The Man Who was Thursday" could be a perfect sister novel to Joseph Conrad's "The Secret Agent."
Like fellow British wits Dickens, Wodehouse, and Waugh, Chesterton is that rare sort of writer who is skilled in combining breathtaking narrative with irreverent and intelligent comedy and whose prose is as poetical as it is humorous. The fact that Kingsley Amis called this novel the "most thrilling" book he'd ever read speaks volumes.

Chesterton, it turns out, is an amazing stage magician. Just when you think you know what he's up to in this book, he pulls another rabbit out of his hat. (Or, in this case, another anarchist. Bunnies, bombers, what's the difference?)

Gabriel Syme is the hero of this strange tale. After being rapidly inducted into an intelligence agency to ferret out anarchists (read "terrorists") he soon becomes one himself. To be more accurate, he is just as rapidly inducted into the high council of a powerful society of anarchists. Under the code name Thursday, he seeks to thwart the council's plans of assassination and destruction. Having sworn himself to secrecy, his honor compels him to carry the battle on his own. Fighting to save the world, he must fight alone against a whole world of hidden plotters and plans.

Through transformation after transformation the book grows progressively stranger. Smothering paranoia alternates with bright hilarity. From philosophic dispute to vivid poetry, Chesterton's potent pen flags not a moment.

Having read half the book, I thought I figured out what was going on. Having read half the book, I was half right. The last thirty pages, though, completely defied my expectations. When you get to the end of this book, you'll want to go right back to the beginning to read it again.

The Man Who Was Thursday could have only been written by G. K. Chesterton, a remarkably versatile writer, essayist, and poet whose works defy categorization. Defoe created Friday; Chesterton gives us all seven days as well as philosophical policemen on the trail of anarchists. The plot verges on the bizarre, but somehow Chesterton manages to adroitly balance philosophy, suspense, and whimsy. My admiration and respect for the vivid imagination of Chesterton increases each time I return to this delightful book.

The Man Who Was Thursday is best enjoyed as a surprise. Avoid learning too much before your first reading. Afterwards, you undoubtedly will return to the reviews, simply to understand how others interpreted Chesterton's uniquely fascinating work.

The Man Who Was Thursday is so unexpected, so different, that I am convinced that most readers are compelled to share their reading experience with others. There are so many layers to the story, and so many unanswered questions. (Perhaps, this explains why this largely unfamiliar book has so many, many reviews.) I look forward to your own analysis of Chesterton's remarkable story. Cheers.

Chesterton sure knows how to write a thriller. Its turns are anything but predictable; its twists are also anything but nonsensical.

Despite Chesterton's intimation that it is simply a nightmare, I find it highly allegorical. Perhaps what's in a man's heart just comes out on the page, whether he intended it or not.

It's interesting that Chesterton picked anarchists as symbolic of the greatest evil of Satan. The book definitely lends itself to allegory, and it seems to have a very ambitious goal: to answer why there is evil in the world. The answer is also very interesting: good people suffer so that in the end when the accuser stands, righteousness will prevail not because it is untested, but exactly because it has been tested and purified. Sunday/Sabbath is a very interesting figure: simply by his presence he exposes everything. The greatest evil and anarchy is the deception that turns brothers against each other, and that evil is nothing MORE than a great deception. It's a very interesting concept, and plays throughout the book in the theme of the rash vows the Days promised to various others--and specifically, Thursday's promise to Gregory.

The book is to be savored like a fine wine: with good food and slowly. You definitely need a few nights to absorb it, and, plan on a rereading. Personally, I loved it. I'm kind of sad *that* dream is over!

Among the funny and realistic things G. K. Chesterton says in his "The Man who was Thursday" is the comment he makes about poor people and anarchism. He says that the poor are rebels but not anarchists; as a matter of fact, they have interest --more than anyone else -- in being governed. And this is so close to reality -- even more than 100 years after the first publication of this novel.

"The Man who was Thursday" is set in a strange world that bears a lot of resemblance with reality -- but somehow it is not the real world per se. Subtitled as "A Nightmare", this book is indeed a strange dream. Things that are supposed to be odd in the world outside of the book, in Chesterton's narrative are unique, strange and deeply funny. Gabriel Syme, the main character, is a poet disguised as policeman who enters into an anarchist group to uncover the boss identity and prevent a tragedy.

In these obscure times we live, Gabriel Syme is more real than ever. He is British police neurosis elevated to the nth. More or less something we're seeing the past few weeks, when, everybody is suspicious. However, Chesterton's characters a lighter and funnier -- what a relief. But with this novel the writer was criticizing the collective hysteria of his times that echoes in ours.

For this reason, and for exploiting and exposing human nature so bravely, "The Man who was Thursday" is one the essential readings of the XX century. The fear of the anarchist is over, but Western world will always have enemies -- their ideology may have changed through the years, but the average citizen must have always someone whom the government and the system will protect them from.

Throughout this "Nightmare" Chesterton depicts how people loose their sense of ridiculous and reality when under pressure. Nothing is to be what it seems to be. Like he says, `a man brain is a bomb', and he also states that bombs expand, they only destroy because they broaden. Chesterton opens the book with a poem for Edmund Clerihew Bentley, saying that a cloud was on the mind of men, a sick cloud upon the soul. Just like these times we are living.

Point: Both good and evil exist in this world, but there is one who understands it all

Path: Chesterton leads the reader through twist and turn in this running novel. Anarchists and police officers meet and unmask one another. Giant elephants, twisted smiles, hot air balloons, and a man in the dark make this story a revealer of surprises every page.

Sources: Chesterton was describing the insanity he saw all around him at the beginning of the 20th century. His fantastic imagination lights a fire which burns for days in the mind of the reader.

Agreement: This world is on its head, but at least there is one who knows it all. And that one is slowly showing a few.

Personal App: Although I have had to work through this several times, I keep wanting to read it again. There is so much there.

Favorite Quote: "We say that the most dangerous criminal now is the entirely lawless modern philosopher. Compared to him, burglars and bigamists are essentially moral men; my heart goes out to them. They accept the essential ideal of man; they merely seek it wrongly. Thieves respect property. They merely wish the property to become their property that they may more perfectly respect it. But philosophers dislike property as property; they wish to destroy the very idea of personal possession."

It would be worth another read and I would recommend it.

Point: Both good and evil exist in this world, but there is one who understands it all

Path: Chesterton leads the reader through twist and turn in this running novel. Anarchists and police officers meet and unmask one another. Giant elephants, twisted smiles, hot air balloons, and a man in the dark make this story a revealer of surprises every page.

Sources: Chesterton was describing the insanity he saw all around him at the beginning of the 20th century. His fantastic imagination lights a fire which burns for days in the mind of the reader.

Agreement: This world is on its head, but at least there is one who knows it all. And that one is slowly showing a few.

Personal App: Although I have had to work through this several times, I keep wanting to read it again. There is so much there.

Favorite Quote: "We say that the most dangerous criminal now is the entirely lawless modern philosopher. Compared to him, burglars and bigamists are essentially moral men; my heart goes out to them. They accept the essential ideal of man; they merely seek it wrongly. Thieves respect property. They merely wish the property to become their property that they may more perfectly respect it. But philosophers dislike property as property; they wish to destroy the very idea of personal possession."

It would be worth another read and I would recommend it.

I wasn't sure what to expect when I was given this book by a friend - all I knew is that Chesterton is an amazing writer and I was not disappointed in the least after reading The Man Who was Thursday. The story is intriguing and moves the reader along page by page until one is almost finished with the book before even knowing it. The characters are interesting - and as one person commented about the book - the real characters are the ideas, not the individuals themselves. Chesterton is a master at communicating ideas and then embodies those ideas in characters which connect to the reader. This "psychological thriller" is more than just a quick, easy and entertaining read - it is actually quite provocative and in some sense unnerving in the same way that Huxley's Brave New World seems to strike too close to home in today's culture.

For a book that's only about a hundred pages long, "The Man Who Was Thursday" is pretty packed.

G.K. Chesterton's classic novella tackles anarchy, social order, God, peace, war, religion, human nature, and a few dozen other weight concepts. And somehow he manages to mash it all together into a delightful satire, full of tongue-in-cheek commentary that is still relevant today.

As the book opens, Gabriel Symes is debating with a soapbox anarchist. The two men impress each other enough that the anarchist introduces Symes to a seven-man council of anarchists, all named after days of the week. In short order, they elect Symes their newest member -- Thursday.

But they don't know that he's also been recruited by an anti-anarchy organization. And soon Symes finds out that he's not the only person on the council who is not what he seems. There are other spies and double-agents, working for the same cause. But who -- and what -- is the jovial, powerful Mr. Sunday, the head of the organization?

Hot air balloons, elaborate disguises, duels and police chases -- Chesterton certainly knew how to keep this novel interesting. Though written almost a century ago, "The Man Who Was Thursday" still feels very fresh. That's partly because of Chesterton's cheery writing... and partly because it's such an intelligent book.

He doesn't avoid some timeless topics that make some people squirm. Humanity (good and bad), anarchy, religion and its place in human nature, and creation versus destruction all get tackled here -- disguised as a comic police investigation. And unlike most satires, it isn't dated; the topics are reflections of humanity and religion, so they're as relevant now as they were in 1908.

But the story isn't pedantic or boring; Chesterton keeps things lively by having his characters act like real people, rather than mouthpieces. From Symes to the Colonel to the mysterious Sunday himself, they all have a sort of friendly, energetic quality. "We're all spies! Come and have a drink!" one of the characters announces cheerfully near the end.

And of course, once the madcap police investigations are finished, there's still a mystery. Who is Sunday? What are his goals? And for that matter, WHAT is Sunday -- genius, force of nature, villain or god? The answer is a bit of a surprise, and as a reflection of Chesterton's beliefs, it's a delicate, intelligent piece of work.

"The Man Who Was Thursday" is a wacky little satire that will both amuse and educate you. Not bad for a book often subtitled "A Nightmare."

Today it's al Qaeda... in Chesterton's time it was anarchists, ("no government is good government," sort of early-period extremist Libertarians).

But here Chesterton spun a fascinating tale of a policeman who goes under-cover to foil a bomb plot. The seven anarchists involved use day-of-the-week code names; thus, our policeman becomes "Thursday".

As you approach the end of this fine work you might ask yourself, "Where the heck is this thing going?" But just hang in there -- it makes total sense when all is revealed.

While I don't consider this work a real genuine page-turner, it did manage to maintain my interest. For me, this is Chesterton's Magnum opus.

I highly recommend this 1908 book to anyone who is interested in thrillers, mysteries, and/or British literature.

Regardless of the very witty paragraphs ,and very funny situations that you might find in this book, I completely fail to see any coherence in the underlying drama. So an entity called Sunday decided to confuse six policemen and make each one of them appear as anarchists to the other, so that those same six guys will somehow be able to discover that they were in fact policeman is far from logical but them, to create another situation by which they are induced to follow him after an elephant and a balloon, then enter a party that could also be confused by an LSD trip, for the sole purpose of help them make sense of their lives is simply absurd.
You really do not know if this a suspense story (a very bad one if that is the case) or if it is really into social satire (then the books becomes much better)or if this an under cover new age novel for those with esoteric inclinations (there I do not know how to judge it, that is, he might be mocking all those with ideas about the existence of supreme beings, or he could be supporting those beliefs, but this book was written in 1907 and only until 1922 he converted to Catholicism).
The fact is that the author was well aware that many of his readers were clueless about what this book was about, so he kindly remembered them that the original title was "The Man Who Was Thursday. A Nightmare". I guess that left him out of the hook, but as a dissatisfied reader I wish I could accept such explanation for such incoherent ending.

Thankfully, The Man Who Was Thursday is not the typical allegorical novel. Most allegorical novels tend to be so confusing to me with the weaving themes constantly forcing me to either ignore the hidden truths in the hopes of finishing the book or ignore the general idea with in the hopes of discovering all the hidden meanings. But of course, if you ignore the general idea, you lose all sight of the book in the first place and set it down, and if you ignore all the hidden meanings, you miss the point of the book. Chesterton never gives you this struggle. Rather, the novel appears to be nothing but a novel at first, and any thinking you do is related directly to the characters themselves and the plot they're following. Only in the end is the allegory revealed, and the thinking you've already done about the characters feeds directly into it.
Even if the book weren't allegorical, it would make a fine short novel. I constantly felt the tension, and the rising action continued to build almost from the start. I expected a climax almost every page, but the action continued, leaving me curious and wondering what was happening throughout, making me loath to put down the book.
It is, simply, a short read, though tense, intriguing, humorous, and satisfying.

This is quite a strange and remarkable little gem. I can promise it'll be virtually nothing like you expect it to be, as the novel constantly reinvents itself at every turn. Yet you can't help but race along, trying to keep up. On the surface, a zany and trifling (to paraphrase one reviewer) farce, or an Orwellian social commentary (to paraphrase another), it is both of these and neither. In the end, the "nightmare" suddenly evolves into something VERY different and unexpected.

Taking Thursday as an example, it's easy to see Chesterton as a father to the Inklings, the literary circle that included C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. To my thinking, Thusday bears a rather striking resemblance (in its deeper subject matter, if not in its setting and characters) to Lewis's Till We Have Faces.

Very enjoyable. Light, on the surface, but with a profundity, in the end, that will stick with you. Note: don't read Lethem's introduction before you read the novel for the first time -- unless you like spoilers!

Many things might be said on the "real" meaning of this novel.But many things can be said about any nightmare's meaning. At the end it will continue to be ambiguos. My opinion is that although meaning is of course important, most people will agree that "The man who was Thursday: a nightmare" is an extraordinary novel, written with an outstanding style and plenty of literary beauty.
Language in this novel is as important as the argument or the characters. Chesterton has an uncomparable capacity to find the right adjetive or to build beatiful and "exact" phrases. Just one example: "Their infinity was more like the empty infinity of arithmetic, something unthinkable, yet necessary to thought. Or it was like the stunning statements of astronomy about the distance of the fixed stars. He was ascending the house of reason, a thing more hideous than unreason itself". If you open ANY page of this book you will find many more examples. Definetively this is a novel that I will reread.

You know how tortilla chips are just the vehicle to eat salsa or queso? In much the same way, this book is a vehicle for Chesterton to present his philosophy. When I started the book, I thought it was going to be a political thriller/mystery with philosophy thrown in. Actually, it turns out the book is philosophy with a political thriller/mystery thrown in. I realized this too late so missed a lot of the symbolism. This book addresses worldview, God, politics and more and is considered to be one of the top books of the 20th Century. You may have to read it more than once to understand it. I might even recommend that you read an analysis of the novel beforehand.

Here is an analysis I found helpful:
[...]

"It remains the most thrilling book I've read," wrote novelist Kingsley Amis about The Man Who Was Thursday. The story is nearly 100 years old, having first appeared in 1907, and since it's now in the public domain, exists in numerous editions. G. K. Chesterton, or G.K.C., is best known as the author of the Father Brown detective stories and for his "slovenly autobiography," Orthodoxy. This novel, part detective story, sort of a metaphysical thriller, kind of a melodrama, maybe surrealistic, slice-of-life, dream/ vision has dazzled numerous readers with its unclassifiable, gripping, hallucinatory style. There is no one like Chesterton, and this novel, along with The Ball and The Cross and Manalive, and The Flying Inn, and maybe The Club of Queer Trades and Four Faultless Felons, with some Father Brown thrown in, remains in the handful of his best.

Some years back, Ignatius Press launched an ambitious project to reprint all of Chesterton's prolific output, in which they are still fruitfully engaged. "Thursday" appeared in a volume dedicated to his novels, and then in an edition matching the Collected Chesterton editions. Finally it's gotten out on its own to the general reading public, and a good thing, too, for this is a very special edition.

I was an avid reader of Martin Gardner when he wrote the "Mathematical Games" column in Scientific American, always coming up with some brain teaser or logical conundrum, and one of the most read features of the magazine. Little did I know it was his latent detective tendency which led him on the trail of all sorts of alleged psychic phenomenon and New Age oddities, the most famous being his report on the pedigree of the Urantia Book, unmasking quite a few hoaxes and charlatans along the way.

But, as in a Chesterton novel, now the strands get all interconnected. Gardner's dual interest in literature and logic found a natural outlook in his Annotated Alice edition of fellow polymath Lewis Carroll's "Alice Through the Looking Glass." He also produced for Oxford Press, The Annotated Innocence of Father Brown by G.K.C.. Chesterton's famous sleuth, it turns out, was also about debunking so-called psychic phenomena, as fake seances were a growth industry in the early 1900s.

His annotated edition of Thursday was originally released as a sort of study version for those who'd already encountered one of the many editions of the novel and wanted to probe deeper with a trusty guide. Now that it's out at large, however, this edition serves not only as a deluxe follow-up for seasoned GKC addicts, but is also ideal for the new reader. How annotated is it? After Martin Gardner's (MG) introduction, there's a fascimile of Chesterton's hand-lettered faceplate of the first edition followed by GKC's dedication poem, nearly never reprinted in its entirety. The text is peppered with notes, art by GKC and period photos and drawings of GKC's London. There's also a bibliography of various editions of "Thursday," including the weirdest of them all, in the March, 1944 issue of the pulp mystery magazine, Famous Fantastic Mysteries, with a reproduction of its sensationalist cover.

The new reader is advised to read the novel first, before the MG intro (which gives away the game) and, if possible, without reading the back cover notes, reviews, or any other later opinions. Most readers get hooked and keep rereading it, and these naturally make up the audience for this edition. Like the film, Twelve Monkeys, GKC keeps you puzzling and pondering over this novel, but not so much for what happened as to for what it meant. Enter fellow detective Gardner (who starts his introduction with a quote from Sherlock Holmes creator, Conan Doyle, and points out that GKC was himself the founder of the Detection Club for mystery writers (Dorothy L. Sayers was the next president), and it's elementary, Watson, why this is your best guide.

First I'll say that this book certainly lived up to the reputation Chesterton holds as a literary genius. His subtle wit at times had me audibly laughing out loud. The descriptions he uses paint very vivid images in your mind and all the while he manages to hold an incredible level of suspense throughout the novel.

At times a chase scene will digress into an in-depth philosophical conversation among the main characters. And yet this never feels out of place or forced. I had previously only read Chesterton's non-fiction works (which I highly recommend, especially "Orthodoxy"), and wasn't sure entirely what to expect in a fictional work of his. I was not disappointed.

That is, I was not disappointed until the very end. There is a certain literary trick which I have not infrequently seen writers use to "resolve" a storyline that has gotten itself into a lot of complexity. This is particularly used when a narrative begins in the real world and ends taking some fantastical turn for the surreal. Sadly, Chesterton resorts to this trick, which I personally consider a cheap trick. Its like the author asks the reader to emotionally invest in everything that is happening in the book and then at the end, the author gives the climactic equivalent of "just kidding!" To resolve such complexity in a satisfying way and in a way consistent with the rest of the novel certainly takes more thought, more time, more pages. Probably this is why is not an uncommon trick, but, in my estimate, still a cheap one. This novel was great even with the cheap ending, but could've been colossally great had the time been invested to resolve it satisfactorily.

*** the following paragraph contains spoilers***

Only one more point to note: THIS IS NOT AN ALLEGORY. I am unsure if this edition of the book contains the same article extract that my penguin classics edition did, but in it, Chesterton explains that this book was not meant to be a theological allegory. If it were, we would all be living in a very miserable world. Chesterton states in the article: "...then the discovery that the mysterious master both of the anarchy and the order was the same sort of elemental elf who had appeared to be rather too like a pantomime ogre. This line of logic, or lunacy, led many to infer that this equivocal being was meant for a serious description of the Deity... [The book] was not intended to describe the real world as it was, or as I thought it was. It was intended to describe the world of wild doubt and despair which the pessimists were generally describing at that date..."

When I first read the final chapter, I was truly very perplexed as to Chesterton's theological statement. After reading the article (which was placed after the story) it became much clearer. Wherever this article is placed in your edition, I suggest reading it first (or at least before reading the last 2 chapters). DO NOT SKIP IT! You will miss the whole point (most likely). Granted, there are themes that are meant to point to a greater spiritual truth, but it is in no way an "allegory" (as, for example, "the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe" was meant to portray an almost one-to-one correlation between characters/events and Christian theology.)

Despite the ending, it is still deserving of all 5 stars. A highly enjoyable read.

I recently read this book, and it was my first experience reading G.K. Chesterton since I read his Father Brown stories so long ago that I cannot remember anything about them. If those books are anything like this one, I will have to go back and read them again. This was possibly the best book I have read so far this year (and there have been a lot) because of all of the different things which Chesterton incoprorated into this book. There were many philosophical and theological truths tucked away in it, some in plain sight and some slightly hidden, there was mystery (the claim that it is easy to predict what would happen is both true and false. It was somewhat easy to predict what would happen, but it was impossibe to predict the details and the consequences of what would happen, so it retained the mystery aspect), and there was plenty of humor (if you love irony you will most likely love this book).

The only thing I did not like was that I did not completely understand the end of the book. I don't quite understand the "peace of God", and why it was involved in anarchy and killing people. However, this is most likely my fault for lacking in understanding rather than Chesterton's fault for lacking in clarity.

I give this book five full stars, and would gladly give it more if I could.

Gabriel Syme, a dashing British secret agent who fancies himself the world's last defender of order and justice, infiltrates Europe's most dangerous revolutionary terrorist society and discovers that reality is not quite what it seems. Everyone he meets has a hidden agenda or secret identity or both. Tunnels and bunkers stuffed with bombs and lie hidden under ordinary streets. Men disguise themselves with impossibly realistic makeup and prosthetic noses and live out elaborate secret lives while so disguised. The police meet in darkened rooms and often run for their lives, while "underground" groups hold conferences in fancy hotels, plotting assasinations and bombings over brunch. A delightful forerunner to spy fiction of the James Bond school {gadgets, black humor, classy super-villans, outrageous conspiracies of destruction}, and "what is reality?" "who am I?" postmodernism of writers life Phillip K. Dick.

G K Chesterton was a man of many parts. Until now I mainly knew him as a champion of Christendom, an arch-foe of eugenics and an advocate for 'distributism', his "small is beautiful" economic alternative to Big Capitalism and Big Socialism.

Chesterton's "The Man Who Was Thursday" was my first experience with Chesterton the novelist. I wanted to like it but came away slightly disappointed. But maybe that's my fault, not his. I expected a thriller, in the mode of the Hitchcock movies I love. There are certainly thriller elements in Thursday, but it is I suspect, on reflection, as much a satire as anything else. There are also, I'm told, numerous allegorical references most of which I missed. The great 'Scientific American' mathematics correspondent Martin Gardner wrote an "Annotated Thursday", which I'm told helps illustrate Chesterton's very subtle images. I haven't read it and may have to to get a better appreciation of this undoubtedly well , finely crafted book.

Written in 1908, "Thursday" may have pioneered the modern spy novel. In some ways a century later it still seems very modern. Sure today we talk of 'terrorists', not 'dynamiters', but Chesterton's 'anarchist' baddies seem more modern than the 'reds' and 'nazis' of most 20th century spy thrillers. "Thursday" is set in the Edwardian world of Hansom Cabs and balloons, not the speeding cars and ubiquitous helicopters of modern action movies. Yet the story line seems modern. Undercover policemen disguised as anarchists. Undercover anarchists within the police. The high anarchist council itseld stacked to the rafters with undercover policemen. In the real world, fifty years on, the FBI's "Cointelpro" program, and the police penetration of the Black Panthers, seems an example of life imitating Chestertonian art.

Twists. Counter-twists. Counter-counter-twists. Hitchcock and the whole modern "spy" genre would seem to owe a lot to Chesterton. In some ways the 1908 "Thursday" has some parallels to the very "hip" "swinging sixties" spy spoofs. Thursday includes an elephant chase, a balloon escape and a whole dream story. In parts it's "spy/satire" reminded me of the James Coburn spoofs "Our Man Flint" and, the great, "The President's Analyst".

Chesterton does manage to sneak in, here and there, a few references relevant to his political and religious concerns. Here's one that sounds very contemporary and you could easily imagine it being quoted by Naomi Klein and other 21st century "anti-globalisation" activists.

"..The poor have been rebels, but they have never been anarchists: they have more interest than anyone else in there being some decent government. The poor man really has a stake in the country. The rich man hasn't; he can go away to New Guinea in a yacht. The poor have sometimes objected to being governed badly; the rich have always objected to being governed at all. Aristocrats were always anarchists..."

Chesterton makes his political and religious points lightly and sparingly. They are asides, comments, not speeches. You could miss them if you weren't looking or if you didn't know what you were looking for. The story, not the sermon, ...and in 'Thursday' there are no sermons.., comes first. That would seem to be the ideal way for a novelist, or any artist, to make a political point.

For a book that's only about a hundred pages long, "The Man Who Was Thursday" is pretty packed.

G.K. Chesterton's classic novella tackles anarchy, social order, God, peace, war, religion, human nature, and a few dozen other weight concepts. And somehow he manages to mash it all together into a delightful satire, full of tongue-in-cheek commentary that is still relevant today.

As the book opens, Gabriel Symes is debating with a soapbox anarchist. The two men impress each other enough that the anarchist introduces Symes to a seven-man council of anarchists, all named after days of the week. In short order, they elect Symes their newest member -- Thursday.

But they don't know that he's also been recruited by an anti-anarchy organization. And soon Symes finds out that he's not the only person on the council who is not what he seems. There are other spies and double-agents, working for the same cause. But who -- and what -- is the jovial, powerful Mr. Sunday, the head of the organization?

Hot air balloons, elaborate disguises, duels and police chases -- Chesterton certainly knew how to keep this novel interesting. Though written almost a century ago, "The Man Who Was Thursday" still feels very fresh. That's partly because of Chesterton's cheery writing... and partly because it's such an intelligent book.

He doesn't avoid some timeless topics that make some people squirm. Humanity (good and bad), anarchy, religion and its place in human nature, and creation versus destruction all get tackled here -- disguised as a comic police investigation. And unlike most satires, it isn't dated; the topics are reflections of humanity and religion, so they're as relevant now as they were in 1908.

But the story isn't pedantic or boring; Chesterton keeps things lively by having his characters act like real people, rather than mouthpieces. From Symes to the Colonel to the mysterious Sunday himself, they all have a sort of friendly, energetic quality. "We're all spies! Come and have a drink!" one of the characters announces cheerfully near the end.

And of course, once the madcap police investigations are finished, there's still a mystery. Who is Sunday? What are his goals? And for that matter, WHAT is Sunday -- genius, force of nature, villain or god? The answer is a bit of a surprise, and as a reflection of Chesterton's beliefs, it's a delicate, intelligent piece of work.

"The Man Who Was Thursday" is a wacky little satire that will both amuse and educate you. Not bad for a book often subtitled "A Nightmare."

By all measures this is an extraordinary novel. Part of its strangeness to me - its personal strangeness - is that anarchist philosophy has always been close to my heart. But this novel is not an anarchist manifesto - it doesn't refer to Proudhon, Kropotkin, Goldman or even William Godwin. But that's not to say the arguments are not surprisingly engaging. I can't believe that Chesterton was an anarchist but anarchism does give an individual the personal power to exercise their religious beliefs as they see fit (or as instructed by their God) and we certainly know that Chesterton was a Christian.
So why does Chesterton use anarchism as a vehicle in this novel? Perhaps it was to shock the reader into considering something seriously that they might not have done otherwise - to open the horizons of their thinking. Not that this is a serious novel though - it is full of sparkling wit and humour. One thing that anarchy does provide for Chesterton is a 'no holds barred' framework in which the story itself - its plot - can take whatever whimsical (and illogical?) turn that the author chooses.
Take the ride of this thriller with its confusion of parts - all the anarchists that aren't but leave you wondering if everyone else isn't an anarchist. This ride is a real roller coaster with wild dips and climbs, twists and turns.

The first few chapters of "The Man Who Was Thursday" are quite thrilling - so much so that when I left the book in a cab, having caught the cab at the end of chapter 3, I was forced to go immediately to the nearest bookstore to buy a new copy. Up to that point, the story is a Victorian one of the poet Syme, recently employed by Scotland Yard, who is on the verge of infiltrating the secret inner circle of a gang of dynamiting anarchists, each named after a day of the week (hence, Syme himself is "The Man Who Was Thursday").

Eventually, the true identity of all the members of the inner circle is revealed, as Syme chases across England and then, somehow, France, purportedly trying to prevent one of their circle from assassinating the Czar. It's in this middle section that the books subtitle ("A Nightmare") seems almost poetically true - the narrative gets overwhelmed by strange details that, like a nightmare, do not follow upon one another.....a team of masked men approach Syme and his compatriots with threatening intent....then suddenly they are at a friend's mansion trying to start a car to escape.....then they can hear the masked men approach on horses....or perhaps its only one horse....or perhaps it's a car.....then the godlike head of the anarchists, Sunday, appears to escape via taxi....then firetruck....then he runs off on an elephant from the London Zoo.....then he escapes in a balloon. Here you will be scolding yourself for not having paid enough attention, because you won't follow all of it.

Then, perhaps, a little bell will go off in your head: G.K. Chesterton, wasn't he known for his conversion to Catholicism? Like C.S. Lewis? Could this perhaps be....allegory? Is Sunday the anarchist akin to Aslan the Lion? Well, in a word, yes.

It seems to me there are two possible reactions to this stunning resolution, assuming no other reader warned you it was coming: one, you can be a little ticked off. You put all this effort into working out the whodunit as though it were a typical spy novel, and it turns out that GOD dun it. Secondly, you can just stand back at admire Chesterton's skill in getting you to this unlikely point - he knows you might not have picked up the novel if you thought it was religious allegory.

My vote goes to the second - it's my first encounter with Chesterton's writings, and I found the book, at least the part up to the point where everything gets nightmarish, by turns thrilling and exceedingly funny. I am very much looking forward to reading more of his works. But non-religious people might put their guard up, rather as though you had an old aunt who tucks bible verses surreptitiously between the pages of your Agatha Christies or Ian Flemings.

Chesterton is indeed a double-crossing secret agent, for he sets up the reader for quite a fall in this novel of spies, anarchists, betrayal and backstabbing, and some readers may not forgive him for it. The first chapters are fantastic and hilarious, with brilliant portayals of earnest deceivers and treacherous stalwarts, gentlemen-police and erudite terrorists. When your childhood upbringing is chaos and constant rebellion, how would you rebel? Become an upstanding normal citizen, of course!

Chesterton cleverly dissects the serious issues of political extremism, government action, human self-delusion and the intricacies of conspiracy, but ultimately deceives the reader with an ending that veers offs wildly into surrealism and religious allegory, and this seriously weakens a novel that would have otherwise been on the highest level of literature. Despite its flaws, it remains a very potent dose of insanity in these trying modern times, and quite pertinent to modern politics as well.

"The Man Who was Thursday" has been in print continuously for 98 years and trust me, folks, that doesn't happen to mediocre books. I usually begin a review by summarizing the beginning of the plot. To do so, however, would spoil the fun because pulls surprise u-turns almost right from the beginning. The joy of realizing how you've been mislead almost from page one is central to getting the book as a whole. I might also go into characterization or theme, but similarly there I don't want you missing out on the experience of discovering it for yourself. Not a mere collection of chapters, "The Man Who was Thursday" is a unified experience. If Chesterton designed roller coasters, they would doubtlessly feature perilous drops and loops mixed together with a house of horrors and perhaps a bumper car section for good measure.

Chesteron was a man of strong opinions, the strongest being in support of traditional Christian values. For that reason and others, he looked to the past for his literary style. He wrote "The Man Who was Thursday" in a Victorian voice, with steadily flowing and direct language spiced up by touches of proper middle-class humor. As such, this book is a natural for anyone who understands the charm of eighteenth century England, an era when honor, politeness, and manners still counted. As I'm determined not to spoil any part of this delightful tale for you, the best I can do is to show off some of Chesterton's brilliant prose.

'You are not sufficiently democratic,' answered the policeman, 'but you were right when you said just now that our ordinary treatment of the poor criminal was a pretty brutal business. I tell you I am sometimes sick of my trade when I see how perpetually it means merely a war upon the ignorant and the desperate. But this new movement of ours is a very different affair. We deny the snobbish English assumption that the uneducated are the dangerous criminals. We remember the Roman Emperors. We remember the great poisoning princes of the Renaissance. We say that the dangerous criminal is the educated criminal. We say that the most dangerous criminal now is the entirely lawless modern philosopher. Compared to him, burglars and bigamists are essentially moral men; my heart goes out to them. They accept the essential idea of man; they merely seek it wrongly. Thieves respect property, They merely wish the property to becomes their property that they may more perfectly respect it.' (p. 45)

'Whenever he said something that nobody but he could understand, I replied with something which I could not even understand myself. "I don't fancy," he said, "that you could have worked out the principle that evolution is only negation, since there inheres in it the introduction of lacunae, which are an essential of differentiation." I replied quite scornfully, "You read all that up in Pinckwerts; the notion that involution functioned eugenically was exposed long ago by Glumpe." It is unnecessary for me to say that there never were such people as Pinckwerts or Glumpe. But the people all around (rather to my surprise) seemed to remember them quite well, and the professor finding that the learned and mysterious method left him rather at the mercy of an enemy slightly deficient in scruples, fell back upon a more popular form of it. "I see," he sneered, "you prevail like the false pig in Aesop." "And you fail," I answered, smiling, "like the hedgehog in Montaigne." (p. 91)

'Excuse me if I enjoy myself rather obviously!' he said to Gregory, smiling. 'I don't often have the luck to have a dream like this. It is new to me for a nightmare to lead me to a lobster. It is commonly the other way.' (p. 21)

Other reviews have summarized the plot of this book pretty well. I want to call out a few points that seemed to me particularly strong. First, the mutual revelations between Syme and Gregory are surprising and funny, as is the absurdist chase sequence with Sunday near the end of the book. Some of the political material hit close to home, especially the discussion in chapter 11 of the fact that rich people are more dangerous to society, and more likely to be anarchists, than poor people. Poor people are invested in the state, they need it and depend on it. Rich people, on the other hand, "can go away to New Guinea in a yacht." This seems relevant to the current political environment in the United States, in which some politicians have built their careers around the promise to destroy (or reduce, anyway) the state for the benefit of the rich.

The Christian material was less interesting to me, as were the more fantastical elements near the end.

Not a bad read, but I think not the classic I had been expecting.

This book seems to defy description. Some say metaphysical thriller, others say philosophy lightly diguised as a spy novel. Chesterton himself said it was best called a nightmare; as in the ones we wake up from. I can only call it a parable.
The first ten chapters certainly feel like a spy novel; you spend them wondering how the hero, Gabriel Syme, will prevent himself from being unmasked amongst an anarchist conspiracy while in turn unmasking the conspirators themselves. But after Syme finds himself chasing one of the conspirators,(don't worry, I'm not giving anything away)the book quickly becomes very philosophical and you begin to feel that every single character in it represents something or someone in real life. One also sees paralels to the book of Job in the last chapter.
So what is it? I really can't say. One thing is apparent, however; Chesterton is telling us something very important in the form of a story like every other parable or fable. Most certainly one of Chesterton's greatest books.

It should be known that the FULL name is The Man Who Was Thursday: A NIGHTMARE. With that in mind, it's a very trippy piece of literature that is little known, but is similar to A Clockwork Orange. If you liked that novel this is perhaps the best complimentary tale for you. It's unique though understandably similar to non-sense & other anarchy literature. In a way, Thursday can not be defined, only read and understood. So if you hadn't the chance go out and read it!

Because of our own doing, evil has been given a permanent place in our world, and G.K. Chesterton's The Man Who Was Thursday: A Nightmare, illustrates that fact perfectly.

At the very beginning of the novel, the daylight scene of the neighborhood changes by nightfall to a reality that is mind-bending and questionable, at best: "More especially this attractive unreality fell upon it about nightfall, when the extravagant roofs were dark against the afterglow and the whole insane village seemed as separate as a drifting cloud. " Page eight. As that evolution of perception can be placed upon an environment, again by our doing, how can that affect the perception of the people who are occupied within its confines? It does, yet it does so on a deeper plain. When is the presentation of goodness real goodness versus goodness out of obligation or duty? And can the person discern kindly obligation vis-a-vis authentic Christian goodness? Or are the two so firmly meshed together that they can not be extricated, for past events have indeed raised that question mark. It is a slippery slope, and one must always be on guard when goodness is used in order to obtain something compared to when something is offered freely without expectations or obligations, and we are speaking about the philosophical, and especially the theological here. Who can be trusted, and who can not be? Even though the act of proving oneself is cyclical, who is more credible, the one or the other, and what if the two are a part of the same circle and there is a divide, as say in religion? Who will predominate? Who is truer to God? And are facades used to mislead people? It has happened before.

What I enjoyed very much about The Man Who Was Thursday was that it raised an assortment of these types of questions upon my reading it, and they too were applicable in regards to faith and the Catholic Church, whose exposed duplicity (and I say that without spite) also raised a vast array of questions. As human beings are inherently fallible, religious or otherwise, it is faith (choose your denomination) that is the stabilizer for the unsteady human condition: "'You were,' said Syme seriously, and hung the heavy lantern over the front. There was a certain allegory of their whole position in the contrast between the modern automobile and its strange, ecclesiastical lamp." P. 137. The strange, ecclesiastical lamp was doubtlessly symbolic of the light of Christ, the light of God, who is Truth in times of duplicity and doubt, where people, the anarchists, who appear to be anything what they really are. And when you can not even trust those who are close to you, which happens quite frequently to the characters in The Man Who Was Thursday, via fumbling idiocy and gnawing black doubt, you can only trust the light and blood of Christ as the last vestage of hope, for that love is life changing, and pages 163 through 167 are vital to the minute comprehension of that unknown gloriousness, for Sunday, towards the latter end of the novel, for escape purposes, rises via the aid of a balloon in a bumbling form of resurrection that is humanly endearing, pleasing and desirious in its own right.

Another element that makes The Man Who Was Thursday so appealing is that it has such an in-your-face truth offering in respects to people of power and authority and those who abuse that authority that is anything but faith-oriented: "The only crime of the Government is that it governs. The unpardonable sin of the supreme power is that it is supreme. I do not curse you for being cruel. I do not curse you (though I might) for being kind. I curse you for being safe! You sit in your chairs of stone, and have never come down from them..." Page 180. For someone in any capacity of religious or poiltical authority, who abuse their power and overlook their fallibility, to be privy to an act of evil (you choose what evil) and yet stay stoned silent, that is where that Light needs to seep into. Let not pride or the haughty veneer of what one is or desires to be prevent that.

In order to accept faith, one must know fully what he or she is, and that is what makes the novel so uplifting and jolly; it is an optimistic novel, because it mocks the bleakness of nihilism. Chesterton even has the happy-go-lucky audacity of inserting himself in the novel, but he does so with the full knowledge of where he came from, and where, in the end of life, he is fortunately going towards. "Chesterton is so thrilled by his acrobatic stroll along the razor's edge of nihilism that he earns hus sunniness a new on every page."--xvi. It is because he was never alone. We do seem to forget that every now and then.

What a quirky, wonderful, strange, charming, odd little book! It needs to be re-read to catch more nuances and clues the second time through. Chesterton has challenged me to think of the playfulness of God.

Random quotes:

* The more his mother preached a more than Puritan abstinence the more did his father expand into a more than pagan latitude; and by the time the former had come to enforcing vegetarianism, the latter had pretty well reached the point of defending cannibalism.

* I don't often have the luck to have a dream like this. It is new to me for a nightmare to lead to a lobster. It is commonly the other way.

* "I have a suspicion that you are all mad," said Dr. Renard, smiling sociably; "but God forbid that madness should in any way interrupt friendship."

* "Who and what are you?" "I am the Sabbath," said the other without moving. "I am the peace of God."

Point: Both good and evil exist in this world, but there is one who understands it all

Path: Chesterton leads the reader through twist and turn in this running novel. Anarchists and police officers meet and unmask one another. Giant elephants, twisted smiles, hot air balloons, and a man in the dark make this story a revealer of surprises every page.

Sources: Chesterton was describing the insanity he saw all around him at the beginning of the 20th century. His fantastic imagination lights a fire which burns for days in the mind of the reader.

Agreement: This world is on its head, but at least there is one who knows it all. And that one is slowly showing a few.

Personal App: Although I have had to work through this several times, I keep wanting to read it again. There is so much there.

Favorite Quote: "We say that the most dangerous criminal now is the entirely lawless modern philosopher. Compared to him, burglars and bigamists are essentially moral men; my heart goes out to them. They accept the essential ideal of man; they merely seek it wrongly. Thieves respect property. They merely wish the property to become their property that they may more perfectly respect it. But philosophers dislike property as property; they wish to destroy the very idea of personal possession."

It would be worth another read and I would recommend it.

This is a tremendous book! A great read. Remember that. All else is (or should be) fundamentally irrelevant.

The sheer impact of the book can be discerned in the variety of reactions it engenders.

I came upon it quite by accident more than forty years ago. It sat innocently upon a shelf in the stacks of my university library, an intellectual timebomb, quietly ticking away. Hah, I thought it was a detective story. What did I know?

After all these years, I still feel myself at a loss to describe what the book actually is. This I can say, though. I think it is a book that got away from Chesterton. It entirely escaped his control--but it did not outrun his talent. I think that its art was so great that he could not, in the end, abandon or disown it. I also think that it so frightened him that as an afterthought he fearfully slapped the words, "A Nightmare," onto its title.

Whatever its other qualities, it is one of the great farces. P. G. Wodehouse, himself, would have been proud of the chapter in which a harried young man proposes to pick a fight. In preparation for it, he writes out a long dialogue for himself and his prospective opponent for the purpose of bringing on the battle, being especially careful to give the other man his fair share of witty and cutting insults.

Amid the bellylaughs there is also sheer, raw power. Toward the end of the book, six clowns stand before the ringmaster--or maybe six archangels stand before the Lord of Hosts. They are wounded and they whimper about their sufferings. Suddenly the true Dark Angel appears to denounce all six for the ease and freedom from care that they have enjoyed and always will. Now, that is a scene that packs a punch!

Read it! Make of it what you will, but read it!

Though I enjoyed the story, The Man Who Was Thursday: A Nightmare parts of the story left me in the dark. It is of keynote to remember that the story is a nightmare and not really occurring in the real world.

Summary: Styme becomes a police detective assigned to a special task force to root out the anarchists that threaten the world.

Breakdown Review:
Storyline: I give 5 out of 5 stars Not another story out there quite like this one. Unique and insightful all in one.

Writing style: 4 out of 5 stars. Very well written, perhaps a bit to formal at times and lacks the cadence that typically grabs an individual with that force that prevents them from putting a book down.

Depth/Inspiration: 5 out of 5 stars. There are several spiritual undertones and allegories many of which I missed.

Entertainment/Education value: 4 out of 5 stars. Twists and turns it does educate you into the mind of C.K. Chesterton but it doesn't quite paint fully with the artistic brush of either education or entertainment and yet there is a lecture in here.

I came across this book by accident. I am please I found it and even more pleased I read it. It may not have been quite accidental that the people who meet in Saffron Park are poets --The first chapter is entitled "The Two Poets of Saffron Park." About 80% of this little book produces a delightful poetic prose for the reader. For the first 60% of the book the plot grabs you and won't let go. Then it gets a bit silly. And ends with an engaging and thought-provoking cosmology which weaves religion, philosophy,and politics into a colorful fabric.
But none of those factors sustained my interest in the book as did its poetry.

This is, without a doubt, one of the most singular books I have ever encountered. Yet you can't just stop at saying "What an odd book" because it's so much more than that. It's almost Orwellian in it's social commentary, yet Orwell lacked the character-writing qualities that Chesterton has been liberally endowed with, therefore it becomes so much more than just a social criticism. And as for the surprise ending, no one, and I do repeat no one, could have foreseen it.

I read it because I am a big C.S. Lewis fan, and knew that Chesterton was one of his favorite writers, and now he is one of mine as well.

This is a book that is intelligent yet passionate, witty yet caring, but I cannot tell you, myself, what it is actually like, it must be experienced.

This is, without a doubt, one of the most singular books I have ever encountered. Yet you can't just stop at saying "What an odd book" because it's so much more than that. It's almost Orwellian in it's social commentary, yet Orwell lacked the character-writing qualities that Chesterton has been liberally endowed with, therefore it becomes so much more than just a social criticism. And as for the surprise ending, no one, and I do repeat no one, could have foreseen it.

I read it because I am a big C.S. Lewis fan, and knew that Chesterton was one of his favorite writers, and now he is one of mine as well.

This is a book that is intelligent yet passionate, witty yet caring, but I cannot tell you, myself, what it is actually like, it must be experienced.

First I have to say that the charges of incipient Nazism in TMWWT are so much rubbish. Any who think Chesterton a ravening Statist ought to reinvestigate his The Everlasting Man in which he suggests that authoritarian, centralized governments are probably late societal developments and in their totalitarian forms occur in the decay of societies. Such persons should also heed Chesteron's contempt for "our own servile, sentimental weakness for worshipping the Strong Man." In any case, the intrepid detectives seem to have pity on the anarchist who resents the depredations of kings and save their true scorn for the Absolute anarchist who seek ultimately to destroy humanity itself.
The tale is bound to disappoint if one reads it strictly as mystery story. It is better read without expectation as to what sort of genre it may represent. If anything, think of it as a surreal adventure story and heed carefully that, at the end, there is some question as to whether any of it really happened at all outside of some fancy. It's really terrbly witty and thought-provoking, even inspiring. It is definitely one of the most distinctive works of prose I have ever read.

In short a brilliant book, complex, subtle, funny and thought provoking on the inner working of God. Still the main point of this review is for the fools who are calling Chesterton a racist anti-Semitic ect... Just look at the 1 star reviews and you'll see the dribble. These people are A: unaware of Chesterton's close friendship with a Jewish lady named Francis Steinthal who he and his wife dearly loved, and B: quite obviously have never read his other marvelous work "Eugenics and Other Evils." It really makes me wonder why the uneducated are allowed to plague our society with their nonsense. Anyway buy Thursday it's a wonderful and step into Chesterton's genius.

This book remains the best book i have ever read, and not just because it is a Catholic allagory of free will. It was engaging and fulfilling right down to the final page. Full of turns and plot twits, it is a true mystery and, in the words of author G.K. Chesterton, "a nightmare." Chesterton tackles anarchy, social order, God, peace, war, religion, human nature, and a few dozen other weight concepts. And somehow he manages to mash it all together into a delightful novel that is still relevant today.

It is simply about a British detective name Gabriel Syme, recruited by the mysterious man in the black room, who meets an anarchist by the name of Lucien Gregory and becomes quite interested in infiltrating the High Council of Anarchists. He attends a local anarchists meeting and upends Gregory by getting himself elected as "Thursday" to the High council. The Council's 7 members all take a day of the week (a significance that comes into play at a later point) with the mysterious and terrifying Sunday as their leader, who seems to be more a force of nature than an actual person. The first meeting ends when one of the Council is uncovered as a detective, though not Syme, and the adventure to uncover the True meaning of the council and Suday ensues.

This book is Chesterton at his best. Every scene is perfect. Every line is a gem. His brilliant wit shines in the episode where Syme is looking for any pretense to challenge another council member to a duel. But then he describes Syme's feelings as he is about to fight the duel in which he will most likely die: "He felt a strange and vivid value in all the earth around him, in the grass under his feet; he felt the love of life in all living things." This novel will keep the pages turning and the love flowing for Chesterton's unbelievable writing, leaving the reader with a series of memorable quotes and a story to keep at heart. Prepare to feel the intellectual thoughts.

Of the three famous British-authored political fantasies (the other two being 1984 and Brave New World), this work is least appreciated but, in my opinion, most accomplished. Orwell and Huxley are popular because they tried to make a point which the man on the street can understand. But what makes them popular also makes them unsophisticated. In TMWWT, the resolution of the conflict is ambiguous, or that the problem is man himself, his inner conflicts are the maker of his dread.
The most admirable aspect is the ability of Chesterton to depict mood, the dread, doubt, fear, angst, as the story unfolds. The three chase scenes (Professor of Syme, Secretary-led mob of the exposed Council members, and the detectives of the President), the duel, and other action scenes are drawn with dynamism, irony, and interesting musings. Although the work may not be as deep as, say, some of Kafka's best works, it nonetheless sets the tone and opens a literary avenue to explore the dark human psyche and its outward, schizophrenic expression.
The one complaint I have is the predictability. I knew fairly early on who Sunday was, and that all those other members were police detectives. This took some joy out of the reading.
I don't agree with the popular interpretation that this is a reflective work on the question of good and evil. I believe GKC had a sophisticated underline, and that sophistication makes the book more savoring than the straight-bull anti-totalitarianism, or anti-science thrusts of Orwell and Huxley.

This is a surreal philosophical adventure story set at the turn of the 20th century, packed tight with clever ideas and witty conversations, and is like practically nothing else you will ever read.

It might also be regarded as a religious allegory about as subtle as the Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, the author's odd protestations to the contrary notwithstanding. As an atheist it didn't bother me at all; and knowing the author's claims about the book I even managed to ignore the allegorical aspect until close to the end, when it becomes impossible to pretend it is not a religious allegory. So, why did the author deny it?

For that matter, did he really deny it: he didn't say that the book does not include a "depiction of the Deity", merely that it does not contain a "serious depiction of the Deity". Unfortunately he died a few days after saying it, so nobody had a chance to seek a clarification. Most editions of Thursday contain the article in which the author talks about this, so if you read the book you'll know what I'm talking about and be able to make up your own mind.

I've read it twice now and loved it both times. Late Victorian/Edwardian London and Europe is one of my favourite locales for adventure fiction and movies, with the world on the brink of becoming our own, but still retaining some of the innocence, honour and tall hats of the former.

The book's oft-forgotten subtitle is 'A Nightmare', and scarcely a page goes by without the author going out of his way to add to the sense of irreality by mentioning that scenes and people resemble paintings, or stories, or plays, or dreams, and so on. Don't get too hung up on whether it was all a dream (or nightmare) or not: of course, it was all a book.

Let me start by saying either the people who are claiming this book to be filled with anti-jewish, pro-facist, pro-christian messages are reading a different book, or just plain making things up. No where in my careful reading of this entire book did I find one comment that could even be interpreted as "right wing" much less racist, facist, or pro-religious. This was my first Chesterton novel, and after reading it I could have sworn he was an atheist! It was only later that I learned that he had fond reliigous beliefs, but take a look at these pages. Chesterton does not advocate the style of religion which exists only to opress, and to proclaim others as wrong. This book is more open, non-linear, and thought-provoking than any other. I love the surreality with which Chesterton writes, something akin to a combination of George Orwell and Lewis Carrol. I love his dry wit, which never failed to elicit a cackle. I loved the ethereal tone this novel takes on during the last fifty or so pages. This book simply defies categorization. Satire/Mystery/Philosophy? Perhaps. Whatever it is, it's purely Chesterton, and purely wonderful.

A brilliant novel. This is actually my favorite novel of all time. I suppose i have a sort of literary crush on GK Chesterton-- I fall in love with his whimsical, clever writing and so even a short book like this can take me weeks just because I really savor his lovely sentences. As I pour through his perfectly-chosen words, I can't help but feel deeply inspired and impressed. Is it wrong to swoon over a book? *sighs dreamily*

My favorite: "... his black seemed richer and warmer than the black shades about him, as if it were compounded of profound colour. His black coat looked as if it were only black by being too dense a purple. His black beard looked as if it were only black by being too deep a blue. And in the gloom and thickness of the beard his dark red mouth showed sensual and scornful ... those cruel, crimson lips."

Such a lovely way to describe the color of black!

Having recently read this book again, I have to say that it made considerably more sense this time than when I read it in my teens. In fact the symbolism, while superbly thought-out, was, I thought, made too explicit at several points, when characters simply say outright what all of it means. I still loved it. It is exalted above mere autobiography by Chesterton's light spirit and vigorous fantasy, but even if it were merely autobiography, it would be a treasure, fully the equal of "The Education of Henry Adams."
For those to whom its nature as intellectual autobiography is not clear, I advise a closer reading of the poem to E.C. Bentley that prefaces the story. The poem speaks of the intellectual chaos of their shared youth and the wisdom ("touching the root" as he puts it) that was created from it. The creation of wisdom from chaos explains Chesterton's use of symbols from Genesis, also a story of creation from chaos. Chesterton in his youth was intellectually volatile, by his own account descending into solipsism. The six days of creation represent different stages of his own intellect; Professor de Worms, for example, is solipsism, Gogol socialism (which Chesterton never took seriously), Bull materialism, and so on. Just as each is revealed to be an agent of order, so Chesterton found that as he confronted each philosophy it was disarmed, and that in doing so he moved ever closer to wisdom, which is faith in God. Sunday is perhaps a bizarre symbol for God, but further reading in Chesterton (or indeed the Bible, especially Job, as was pointed out in the Ignatius collected edition) will show that all the most baroque and incomprehensible aspects of Sunday are the most literally orthodox.
It's all dressed in an entertaining if sometimes confusing fantasy, but it should not be necessary to say that Chesterton did not actually advocate "thought police" any more than he advocated turning suburbs into armed, walled cities, as in his book "The Napoleon of Notting Hill." As to the review that considers the book "Dali in anarchist drag," I recommend that he read the preface in which Chesterton explodes that idea, which had already been advanced in his lifetime. Finally, all readers should re-read the first chapter of Genesis before beginning the book, to have the source of the symbolism fresh in the mind.

I can understand how the other readers and reviews of this book connect it to the Prisoner or Kafka, there is definitely that side to this book.

Its the story of the undercover investigation of a group of terrorists to find out who their leader is....and that is very interesting....

Great writing, great plotting, and a darn good read! A political, and physiological thriller!

This book seemed very predictable and campy at times but then at other times it would delve into very deep observations about life and existentialism. As a whole however, the book had a very lofty plot with a lot of inconsistency weaved into it in which it was never accountable to because of it's incoherent ending. Due to it's short length, it didn't develop any of the characters besides the protagonist, which left me detached through most of it. Overall, I would say it's an under-developed story. Chesterson when commenting on this work explained that he wrote this while depressed at college. It shows throughout the book with it's melancholy characters and message.

For a book that's as short as this one is, "The Man Who Was Thursday" is pretty packed.

G.K. Chesterton's classic novella tackles anarchy, social order, God, peace, war, religion, human nature, and a few dozen other weight concepts. And somehow he manages to mash it all together into a delightful satire, full of tongue-in-cheek commentary that is still relevant today.

As the book opens, Gabriel Symes is debating with a soapbox anarchist. The two men impress each other enough that the anarchist introduces Symes to a seven-man council of anarchists, all named after days of the week. In short order, they elect Symes their newest member -- Thursday.

But they don't know that he's also been recruited by an anti-anarchy organization. And soon Symes finds out that he's not the only person on the council who is not what he seems. There are other spies and double-agents, working for the same cause. But who -- and what -- is the jovial, powerful Mr. Sunday, the head of the organization?

Hot air balloons, elaborate disguises, duels and police chases -- Chesterton certainly knew how to keep this novel interesting. Though written almost a century ago, "The Man Who Was Thursday" still feels very fresh. That's partly because of Chesterton's cheery writing... and partly because it's such an intelligent book.

He doesn't avoid some timeless topics that make some people squirm. Humanity (good and bad), anarchy, religion and its place in human nature, and creation versus destruction all get tackled here -- disguised as a comic police investigation. And unlike most satires, it isn't dated; the topics are reflections of humanity and religion, so they're as relevant now as they were in 1908.

But the story isn't pedantic or boring; Chesterton keeps things lively by having his characters act like real people, rather than mouthpieces. From Symes to the Colonel to the mysterious Sunday himself, they all have a sort of friendly, energetic quality. "We're all spies! Come and have a drink!" one of the characters announces cheerfully near the end.

And of course, once the madcap police investigations are finished, there's still a mystery. Who is Sunday? What are his goals? And for that matter, WHAT is Sunday -- genius, force of nature, villain or god? The answer is a bit of a surprise, and as a reflection of Chesterton's beliefs, it's a delicate, intelligent piece of work.

"The Man Who Was Thursday" is a wacky little satire that will both amuse and educate you. Not bad for a book often subtitled "A Nightmare."

This novel is an odd sort of a marvel. It's a little bit of a mystery, a touch of a fantasy, and a tad of a biography. Nobody knows quite what to make of it, and everyone has a different interpretation. It charms and intrigues, mystifies and bemuses. Some say it's a Christian allegory; others say autobiography - some say it's a political statement; others say it's just a story. Make what you will of it or say what you want, the general consensus is in: the book is a beauty. A nightmare. A must-read.

I am the kind of reader who has a hard time finishing books, but The Man Who Was Thursday definitely cured that. This is one of the finest books that I have ever read. I have read many of Chesterton's quotes, and have always been a fan of his thinking but I now know that he is an incredible author also. A friend suggested the Father Brown series to me and I must say if it is anywhere as good as this one I will be impressed.

I admire Chesterton very much ("The Innocence..." and"Mr Pond's Paradoxes" are masterpieces) However, I totallyagree with readers Skirmont & Diruni; this is technically a great work up to, say, two thirds of it. To my view, by then Chesterton was beginning to show signs of religious fanaticism, up to the point that he forgot he was writing a crime story. The end is most disappointing, unless one is willing to accept all the mystical stuff as belonging to a crime story. As per antisemitism, I would not say it is there, but, according to my experience, underneath a catholic obsession invariably creeps a little of anti-Jewish mistrust. (I may be wrong, but that is, at least, my perception as a non-Jewish person, grew up under Catholic principles and among catholics)

The Man Who Was Thursday: A Nightmare by G. K. (Gilbert Keith) Chesterton. Published by MobileReference (mobi)

The Man Who Was Thursday is a tense, masterfully structured thriller. The genius of Chesterton is that his book produces a question in the soul of the attentive reader that demands and points the way to an answer.

The Man Who was Thursday is a book in the spirit of mirth, that revelation which Chesterton believes is still coming (as he proposed at the end of Orthodoxy). That's just about the best way to describe this witty, paradoxic, uncontainable nightmare. Sometimes I think it captures the adventure of the Christian walk, sometimes I think it captures a subtlety true discourse on human nature, and at still othertimes I think Chesterton just wrote this for fun. Whatever his intentions, this book reignited my spirit to read and honestly just remembering it kindles that flame with hopes that I might stumble upon books as easy to get lost in, delight in, and think upon as this. It is an easy read that isn't mindless.

The subtitle - A Nightmare - is telling. As the story progresses, it moves from apparent reality to an adventure with all the signs of being a dream, with scenes and characters changing shape almost before your eyes.

It is difficult to write about a book that holds one's interest throughout but which so thoroughly disappoints in the end. THE MAN WHO WAS THURSDAY begins like a mystery, but it increasingly becomes apocalyptic as its religious message comes to the forefront, and I believe will appeal to few modern readers. As the religious symbolism begins to dominate, the mystery that drew the reader in begins to fade, and one continues reading simply to see how Chesterton is going to manage to finish the thing. And this is where it is most disappointing. There is no ending which follows from its premise AS A MYSTERY. By that time, most of what happened in the beginning is no longer relevant.
Chesterton subtitled the book A NIGHTMARE, and this is more revealing than it appears at first. In one sense, this book can fit into a long tradition of the religious vision genre, which is more common in Medieval and Renaissance literature. This is not something that evokes much for a modern reader, though, so what we really get here is an inexcusable case of "And then he woke up." At least the writers of the Middle Ages had the guts to tell you upfront at the beginning that the character had fallen asleep.
By the time I got to the end of the book I felt that I had been cheated. I had been given a fascinating story, one in which Chesterton seemed to be setting up for himself insurmountable difficulties and obstacles in terms of plot, but it felt as if all that had been a device to get my attention, to get me to listen to his religious message, which, it turned out in the end, was not that interesting anyway.

Gardner's introduction is very helpful to understanding the story. His notes throughout the book are interesting, informative, and helpful. Chesterton's comments on the story afterwards are interesting. I'd place this edition above the one in The Collected Works, but they do go well together.

Chesterton is certainly imaginative - the twists in his tale are excellent and unbelievable. Unbelievable not meaning implausible but rather that one finds it hard to believe that a human being could come up with such ideas. But it gets overly fantastic towards the end, and all his brilliant prose cannot make up for the pitiably religious ending of a once-fine plot.

Wow!!! There are very few books that once I finish them I want to start it over right away. This is definitely one of them. It will go on my list of "future must rereread". The duel sequence held my spellbound.I cannot believe that I have not read this before now. I will go on and read more, lots more of Chesterton.

There is a certain quality in this book that is compared with magic! It keeps you wanting to know what happened, who did it kind of feeling, Where are the characters standing at, who is surrounding them, what side are they at?
The arsenal, the meetings, the betrayal, the courage!
It is not an easy book to read, and I needed a bit more of concentration to keep up with it! But it was worth it.
A true mystery!

Those who would call Chesterton an anti-semitist should read his "Ballad of the Battle of Gibeon" and try repeating the charge.
Do not, by any means, try and read "The Man who was Thursday" as a spy intrigue tale. If you do, you will be left completely baffled at the end. The whole Anarchist thing (although a pet peeve of Chesterton's) is not the main point of the story. Rather, "The Man who was Thursday" is a delightful allegory concerning the whole of this madcap creation. Chesterton's Council of the Seven Days is a fantastic type of the universe as a whole. Read it. It's good. Trust me.

I must be something of a blockhead as I found no fascist or anti-semitic leanings in this novel. In fact, I merely thought it a right ripping adventure yarn with metaphysical overtones. To step from this book to accusations of anti-semitism is a bit far-fetched and not really tenable. The ending of the novel is fairly ambiguous and open, I think, to many interpretations.

I make it a point to never give up on a book till I've read the last page, but this book finished me long before I finished it! And I DID finish it, but I must confess that I just didn't GET what it was saying, and so I just can't recommend it to the average reader out there. Maybe if you are a political scientist or something, you will know what is going on here (allegorically and all)... and maybe I am just the wrong reader for this genre altogether, and there is nothing I dislike more than the feeling of handing a negative review to a writer who, in other respects, I greatly admire. I think it is important though for potential readers to not base their acquiring of this book on an admiration of Chesterton's other works (ie., the Father Brown stories, or his outright theological stuff). This book is nothing like those other writings which I dearly love. The Man Who Was Thursday is about this poet/detective (Gabriel Syme) who is hired to perform a clandestine infiltration of a group of anarchists, each named for a day of the week and all bent on destroying the world. I was lost, lost, lost. Granted, greater minds than mine will not agree, but have mercy, I am arguing from, and for, the commoner. If that final hot-air balloon scene was meant to be climactic, it only served to further tempt me toward the committal of the book in its entirety to the gravitational forces on the nether side of my balcony.

This book was far ahead of it's time. G.K. wrote in a style that pre-figured the likes of Gaiman and Diane Wynn Jones. It also contains the best and most bizarre chance scene that I have ever read. If you've seen the conclusion to the television series "The Prisoner" then you have a good idea of what to expect.

This wonderful novel is not a detective story; not an allegory; especially not a work of theology. I haven't the audacity to attempt to define what it is. Chesterton did, however, and it's right there in the title: "A Nightmare". The story unfolds as a dream does, illogically and vividly. I approach it (and I have read it many times) as a prose poem, and a picture painted with words. Certainly it shows GKC's intensely visual imagination, and his ability to create a landscape in the mind. It is also an extended commentary on the Book of Job; in both, a mystery is answered with a greater mystery. Thus the enigmatic ending. GKC was a modern mystic, who saw creation as a pageant to be lived - and loved - rather than a propostion to be solved.

The author sends naive hero on a crazy journey - being sure to remind us every page how "outrageous" his book is. His main thrust is to ridicule the masses for gullibility, remind the reader he is wasting his life, and shame on him was caught up in the nonsense too.

Any "commentary" stops there, however, and we're left with an admonishment that God is a legitimate ruler because he has suffered too - or maybe that we should suffer because God is a legitimate ruler. Either is fine. What more can be said? It's unintentionally the funniest part of this premeditated farce, light-years ahead of HAY THIS GUY IS A PSEUD and HAY LOOK HE'S RIDING AN ELUHFANT!

As a thriller it fails miserably. Who can care when the title says it's all a dream? The one, single suspenseful scene - a few cops surrounded by an angry mob on a pier - was utterly ruined when the leader of that mob was also an ally.

On one point I can praise this book: the lively, grotesque descriptions of the Council members' disguises - the secretary's smile, Bull's glasses, and especially the belabored, shaking movements of Professor de Worms brought a genuine smile to my face.

Chesterton is not a horrible writer; he's simply out of his league. He had the idea to write a book about ideas, but it was too big for him. He read Ecclesiastes, and tried to write the first half of Candide.

(Those are both good)
--------------------
review courtesy of strangemoe.net

An amazing piece of literature. Truly the most amazing mystery I have ever read, incorporating drama, suspense, sarcasm and theology in a brilliant story that entertains and challenges. Most likely will need to read several times to understands symbolism, but more enjoyable every time.

A fascinating though complicated book which takes us on a psychological tour of the man called Syme, or Thursday. We are introduced to paradoxical characters which will stay in the reader's mind forever. Gregory keeps his promise of "A very entertaining evening."

For a work by a Catholic theologian, several of the passages, with their strong individualist overtones, reminded me of Objectivist fiction. Indeed, in his search for the truth, the protagonist in this novella is incredibly reminiscient of a Rand hero. I highly recommend this book to any Objectivists, with the stipulation that none of Chesterton's other works be taken into account.
I believe that anyone who has exhausted the typical Objectivist repetoire of literature (Dostoevsky, Hugo, Rand, Tolstoy, etc) will much appreciate this piece of work. Some of the paragraphs, while in some places obviously misguided by religion, are amazing examples of individualism and beautiful metaphoric speech at their finest.

The thing that strikes me most abut this book is how relevant it is to today even though it was written almost a century ago. The boogyman of that time--the anarchist, has a lot in common with our own chosen boogyman--the terrorist. The response of the "heros" of the book are very similar to the response of the Western World of today: they are all over the map. One could get so caught up in counting similarities and dissecting philosophies, that the biggest, almost garishly glaring fact about The Man Who Was Thursday could be missed: it is a masterpiece.
The Man Who Was Thursday is a tense, masterfully structured thriller that has powerful echoes of the Biblical book of Job. Chesterton subtitled this novel "a nightimare."
The characters of The Man Who Was Thursday move through a world twisted by forces outside of their comprehension. They ultimately encounter the nightmare of a deity-figure who is more of a force of random and capricious nature than a personal being. God's non-answer in the book of Job is amplified to a worldview in The Man Who Was Thursday.
The genius of Chesterton is that his book produces a question in the soul of the attentive reader that demands and points the way to an answer.
This is indeed a book worthy of reading, reflection, and even interaction. It blows through you like a wind that cannot leave what it touches unchanged.
I give The Man Who Was Thursday my highest recommendation.

This is a very strange book, gripping at times, but in the end isn't worth a whole lot.
As a Christian, I was intrigued by what many have said about Chesterton. He has been compared to the likes of Francis Schaeffer and C.S. Lewis, but if this book is any indication of what went on in Chesterton's mind (and most say it is), Chesterton is a dime store version of Lewis at best.
The book begins by setting up a strange world and an even stranger mystery. It evolves through multiple twists that will interest the reader and keep them turning pages. However, the climax is extremely disappointing and I felt cheated. Although Chesterton builds a good amount of suspense throughout most of the book, the loose ends wrap up so quickly, and so strangely, that I was left scratching my head, asking myself what I missed.
I know that this book is more than a simple mystery. It is a conservative commentary on society and religion. But in my opinion, the book falls far short in that regard too. Whatever deeply insightful message the book may have been trying to say gets lost in a haze plot twists. And, although I understood the basic message of Chesterton's parable, I found it not very insightful, and far from being the best work on the subject.
I recommend anything by C.S. Lewis before this book. Even the childrens books (The Chronicles of Narnia) are more enjoyable and have more to say than this book.

In his work, The Man Who Was Thursday, Chesterton grabs the reader by the vital organs and does not let go without leaving the reader breathless, intrigued, and starstruck. His complete mastery of the English language has one laughing at the romanticism, awed at the intellect, and mystified at the imagery. Word choice is exact, and the plot develops smoothly. However, these aspects merely complete the masterpiece as Chesterton muses on philosophical issues. He termed it a "nightmare," but if this be a nightmare, may I never have a pleasant dream again.

If you come into this novel lacking (at least) a cursory familiarity with the big Greek philosophers (Plato, Epicurus, the neo-Platonists, etc.) and Christianity, you will have no payoff at the end. That being said, I suppose someone unfamiliar with the aforementioned might still enjoy the chase/spy aspects of the book.

When I was in middle school, I started reading C.S. Lewis's Chronicles of Narnia. Somewhere during the end of the second book, though, I got the strange feeling that the book had gone haywire. This is the part where Aslan, the noble lion, dies and then is resurrected. At this point, I didn't know much about Christianity, so I'm not sure if I even spotted the parallel with Christ, but I knew that something foreign to the world the author created in the first book had crept into the book, and ruined it. When I finally figured out what Lewis was trying to do, I felt a little offended, like I had been slipped a dressed-up pamphlet and been tricked into reading it. An honest writer, instead of writing a "novel", might simply have published the single sentence: read the Bible and think about it.
Now, by the end of The Man Who Was Thursday, I felt something of the same annoyance, but Chesterton offers so many little marvels and jewels of observation along the way that I forgive him - mostly. An example: "For he was a sincere man, and in spite of his superficial airs and graces, at root a humble one. And it is always the humble man who talks too much; the proud man watches himself too closely."
The plot of the book is incredibly involved, and continually in motion: it involves a spy placed inside an anarchist council with members named after each of the seven days, the President of the organization being named Sunday. Now, could that name have some religious significance, I wonder? The problem with the book is that the entire plot has just been a setup to get characters to a metaphysical Christian conclusion that has no ressemblance to the reality of the rest of the book. Now, everything that had been taken at face value so far is symbolic, and meant to represent something about man's relationship with God. You almost feel like all of the twists and turns of the plot were a complete waste of the time; the reality of the first 170 pages of the book is devalued, despite being well-constructed and magnificently original. As with Lewis, I felt like if Chesterton had theological points to make, he should have written a book of theology.
Then again, maybe the framework of the book, which lends itself to a hundred interpretations, is a more effective tool to get readers to think about the religious questions asked than a simple work of biblical exegesis. How succesful this book is for you, then, is largely going to depend on whether Chesterton's obsessions are your obsessions: the nature of the God as depicted in the Bible, and so on. At the moment, at least, I'm afraid that I am not, and am searching for my answers elsewhere, even though I still felt some of the grandeur of the book's conclusion. I was pleased enough with what was here, but am still disappointed that the book I was reading turned out to be about something else altogether.

I thought "The Man Who Was Thursday:A Nightmare" by G, K. Chesterton, Kingsley Amis was an unusual story with interesting characters, and, fast-pace dialogue. An interesting combination to be sure.
John Savoy
Savoy International
Motion Pictures Inc.

It's Thursday against Sunday, Law versus Anarchy -- mystery incarnate. I believe that this book is the best work that Chesterton ever wrote. It captures his sense of myth and history in a much more personal style than the philosophical works, such as The Everlasting Man, while retaining Chesterton's distinctive wit and vigor. The ending will leave you puzzled, but definitely thinking about his ideas.

A very interesting book. I didn't know what it was about when I bought it. As the story progressed, I finally figured it out. Once that happened, the twists and turns seemed less and less plausible and silly. The first half is well worth it, but don't hold your breath on the second half.

This book is not about anarchy or suppression of thoughts; that is incidental in this story. TMWHT is about a man's journey to discover: how much he cares, the mysterious and powerful "gut feeling", what it is he actually cares about. His life is essentially opened up to understanding and life. The message of Sunday would seem to be: I know YOU; I found you to be of worth; now that your eyes are opened, go really live your life. The journey is then, a gift to each other day of the week.... I will be getting my own copy now--can't mark pages in the library's copy....

This book was phenomenal. Chesterton writes in a way that kept me wanting to read more. I read the book in three days while still working and doing other things, that is how much of a grip it had on me. I think one of the main things people forget, and Chesterton reiterates in the article at the end is that this is subtitle "A Nightmare." Remember this, for it is important in shaping how the book reads. Do not think of it as a straightforward story but as a fantastic nightmare.

This was my first reading of Chesterton's fiction, and I couldn't put it down. Chesterton had a keen mind and a gift with words. If you're trying to decide whether to try one of his books, this would be a great place to start- a mystery with a twist!

"The Man Who Was Thursday" is excellently written. G.K Chesteron masterfully provides foreshadowing that allows the reader to falsely believe there is a sense predictability of the plot that is shattered upon finishing the novel. Conspiratorial nonsense in combination with a merry chase throughout the English countryside provides a sense of worry and hilarity.

The Man who was Thursday is one of the most enjoyable books I have ever had the pleasure of reading. G.K. Chesterton has an unbelievable ability to startle his reader as he tells the story. The Man who was Thursday is also an engrossing books which will stimulate your imagination. I consider it to be the best book Chesterton has ever written and encourage anyone who enjoys an exciting and suprising book with lasting quality to read this classic.

The author sends naive hero on a crazy journey - being sure to remind us every page how "outrageous" his book is. His main thrust is to ridicule the masses for gullibility, remind the reader he is wasting his life, and shame on him was caught up in the nonsense too.

Any "commentary" stops there, however, and we're left with an admonishment that God is a legitimate ruler because he has suffered too - or maybe that we should suffer because God is a legitimate ruler. Either is fine. What more can be said? It's unintentionally the funniest part of this premeditated farce, light-years ahead of HAY THIS GUY IS A PSEUD and HAY LOOK HE'S RIDING AN ELUHFANT!

As a thriller it fails miserably. Who can care when the title says it's all a dream? The one, single suspenseful scene - a few cops surrounded by an angry mob on a pier - was utterly ruined when the leader of that mob was also an ally.

On one point I can praise this book: the lively, grotesque descriptions of the Council members' disguises - the secretary's smile, Bull's glasses, and especially the belabored, shaking movements of Professor de Worms brought a genuine smile to my face.

Chesterton is not a horrible writer; he's simply out of his league. He had the idea to write a book about ideas, but it was too big for him. He read Ecclesiastes, and tried to write the first half of Candide.

(Those are both good)
--------------------
review courtesy of strangemoe.net

TMHWT is another Chesterton masterpiece; suspenseful, well written, and thought provoking. Those who accuse Chesterton of anti-Semitism must have read something else, or be slightly off their rockers (and all done anonymously) No one, unfortunately, seems to be able to shed any light on the last 2-3 pages. Based on what I know about Chesterton, I think Sunday may be a Christ figure, but to what end? Where are the lit PhD's when you need them...

I was first introduced to this book by my brother and my sister who both read it, and liked it. It is about a policeman who gets on the central council of anarchists who are all named after days. I really shoul not tell you much more or else it would spoil it, so sorry if this isn't very helpful. But I think you'll like this book. It's cool!!!!

Simply the best spy novel I ever read. Furthermore is a christian allegory of the contradictions of human nature viewed from a sinful perspective, which leads us to the marvelous mistery of the good and the evil, through the eyes of an undercover agent.

As a first time Chesterton reader I knew only that Chesteron was a Catholic appologist, but I expected something similar to C. S. Lewis. Big mistake; the story plays out like a farce, until the big suprise ending. Entertaining and thought provoking.

G. K. Chesterton makes me feel stupid. Even when his work is entirely predictable--as this novel was--I wonder if he meant for it to be so and if the joke is really on me for thinking I've made a discovery the author intended to be patently obvious. Chesterton can be tongue in cheek about being tongue in cheek. His tone is a a series of nested Chinese boxes; it defies me. The author professes to be shocked at each unveiling in this novel. Yet, by the time the third figure is unveiled in similar fashion, a reader might begin to wonder--could Chesterton have been serious when he has the narrator express shock? I wasn't shocked. I thought, "Should I be shocked that Chesterton is so unshocking?" You can't win when the writer seems so much more clever than you are.

The man in the dark who hired Syme was huge. Syme, even though he couldn't see a thing, knew that the speaker was of massive proportions.

Then, at the first council breakfast, we see that Sunday is a big big man, too big for the balcony. At that moment we know that the two men are one and the same. So, Syme's and others' continuing wonders of who Sunday is or who the man who hired them is comes across as childish. We suspect it, why can't they?

Also, after the first "spy" we know that all of them will turn out to be police officers, so that was a little tiresome too.

But, I really enjoyed some scenes. For instance, Syme's anticipated dialogue with the Marquis:

'Has it by any chance occurred to you,' asked the Professor, with a ponderous simplicity, 'that the Marquis may not say all the forty-three things you have put down for him?'

Connection to current events: The police (symbolizing all the ruling powers) is as ridiculous as the terrorists. In fact, in the book there are no anarchists, except maybe for Gregory (that poor man, I felt so sorry for him). I am thinking that maybe we can adapt the moral of the story to the current paranoia. We started to think that everyone might be a terrorist. London police killed an innocent man mistaking him for a terrorist.

The silliness of the police also reminded me a little of a certain president, how he must have felt after going to war to find weapons of mass destruction and then admitting that there never was any.

Lale

The only problem with this edition is that it does not have the dedication to E. C. Bentley. If you purchase this edition you really ought to find the poem on line and paste it into the front of the book. "There was a cloud upon the minds of men..."

Allegory is a genre not much in vogue.

It hasn't been much in vogue since "The Pilgrim's Progress" or maybe Dante. (With some exceptions, like "Animal Farm.")

It's a story where the characters are not so much characters as representatives of a virtue, or a vice, or a type (or a stereotype) of person, and so on. The idea is not to present realistic fiction but to produce a morality play.

"The Man Who Was Thursday" is like that. Over the course of the book, the characters do change--often in preposterous ways--but even the changes are in service of the Overarching Moral.

In this case, the moral is: ALL humans have a double nature, good and evil, angel and demon.

The plot involves lots of melodrama and adventures, lots of twists and jumps; but it never varies from this crushing heavy-handed Moral.

There are snippets of philosophizing, but they amount to little. The criticisms of "modern" philosophy (modern as of 1905) are trivial.

Chesterton called the book a "nightmare," and it certainly has surreal touches. But they are flimsy and dull.

This novel by G.K. Chesterton, starts very well, with a policeman so succesful in trying to infiltrate a group of anarchists that he is elected one of the bosses of the cell. Then things slowly becomes more muddled and the plot collapses halfway through the book, as it becomes more and more confusing and improbable and the author tries to feed on us too much indigestible philosophical baggage (Chesterton was a notorious political ultraconservative who seemed to find nothing worthwhile in the Europe after the Middle Ages). If you want to read a novel about early 20th century anarchists, I suggest instead you read Joseph Conrad's "The Secret Agent".

It was all a joke...but was it all a dream? That I think sums up this book in a nutshell. It started with the makings of a thriller but the way it ended left me thinking what was the point? Perhaps he is laughing at our own paranoia...Entertaining enough though.

I've read several turn-of-the-century books recently that shed a curious light on the naive attitude of intellectuals toward communism prior to the Revolution. That is the entire topic of G. K. Chesterton's short farce, The Man Who Was Thursday.

The novella follows the adventures of an enterprising counter-revolutionary who infiltrates the secret world of the European anarchists, quickly rising to position of "Thursday" on their secret 7-man board of directors. As the farce devolves, each member of the board (surprise, surprise) is found to be a plant from Scotland Yard. At the same time, each is shown to exemplify some anarchist virtue.

The book's intended message is that there are no dangerous anarchists (communists) and that we would be better off seeking common ground with those who advocate the destruction of our over-valued civilization. I was more than a little surprised to receive this message from G. K. Chesterton, who is generally described as a level-headed conservative. Apparently he was as blind as all the rest to the evil surging through Europe.

I thought this book was an incredible bore, the kind of book your English teacher told you that all smart people think is great. I guess if you like "The Necklace" and "The Lottery" this is a great book. I found it to be very obvious and oh so melodramatic. The pacing is torturous to the point that the reader may decide that begging the author to stop will help.

This proto-fascist parable takes place on two levels simultaneously: it's both a mystery story and a piece of Christian edification. Unfortunately, it's a lousy detective story--as such, it simply makes no sense at all--and an ugly, fundamentally mean-spirited dogmatic work.
Let's just begin with the hero's premise: he's a good guy, he works for the thought police. His job is to find anyone who promulgates dangerous ideas, and to stop them. By dangerous ideas, he means anything that goes against conformity, against the mainstream. This, in Chesterton's view, is a noble cause: to suppress any ideas that could undermine tyranny.
Unless you're intending to study how an intellectual like Chesterton became involved with some strong anti-semitic groups, I recommend you avoid this one.

I found this book to be very unimpressive. I know that it's supposed to be this great allegory and whatnot, but they story was mediocre and the ending, well I'm not sure that I'd call it an ending. In fact, I'm still not sure of what exactly happened at the end. Perhaps if I had read a better edition than the one I did, it would have explained it for me. Maybe I'm too dense for this book.

This book which was written in the early 1900s is about a Policeman/Poet that infiltrates a group of anarchists who are bent on breaking down society. There is some witty dialogue and satire in this but for the most part I couldn't get into it.

While G.K Chesterton's "The Man who was Thursday" was written nearly 100 years ago and is therefore dated, it failed to inspire within me any sense of relevance. His story, abounding with symbolism morphs into a dull harangue of social commentary.

His hero Gabriel Syme a poet who in reality is an English detective infiltrates a secret group called the Central Anarchist Council. All the members are identified by days of the week and he is annointed Thursday. His endeavor is to foil the plot hatched by the group to create mayhem through bombing and dynamiting. The group is lead by the president who is called Sunday, a massive man wide a huge head and face. We later learn that Sunday is a symbolic representation. Little by little Syme's investigating unmasks each member of the council. The plot degenerates into a chase scene that lasts far too long. Chesterton concludes his novel with a social diatribe which left me rather bored.

The book's sole saving grace was its brevity.

This book is, quite simply, an attempt to express some of the most despicable ideas any human being ever had. It foreshadows Chesterton's descent into Nazism and anti-semitism; among Nazis and the KKK this book remains a favorite.
Ugly, ugly, ugly, mean, mean, mean.

The author sends naive hero on a crazy journey - being sure to remind us every page how "outrageous" his book is. His main thrust is to ridicule the masses for gullibility, remind the reader he is wasting his life, and shame on him was caught up in the nonsense too.

Any "commentary" stops there, however, and we're left with an admonishment that God is a legitimate ruler because he has suffered too - or maybe that we should suffer because God is a legitimate ruler. Either is fine. What more can be said? It's unintentionally the funniest part of this premeditated farce, light-years ahead of HAY THIS GUY IS A PSEUD and HAY LOOK HE'S RIDING AN ELUHFANT!

As a thriller it fails miserably. Who can care when the title says it's all a dream? The one, single suspenseful scene - a few cops surrounded by an angry mob on a pier - was utterly ruined when the leader of that mob was also an ally.

On one point I can praise this book: the lively, grotesque descriptions of the Council members' disguises - the secretary's smile, Bull's glasses, and especially the belabored, shaking movements of Professor de Worms brought a genuine smile to my face.

Chesterton is not a horrible writer; he's simply out of his league. He had the idea to write a book about ideas, but it was too big for him. He read Ecclesiastes, and tried to write the first half of Candide.

(Those are both good)
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review courtesy of strangemoe.net

The author sends naive hero on a crazy journey - being sure to remind us every page how "outrageous" his book is. His main thrust is to ridicule the masses for gullibility, remind the reader he is wasting his life, and shame on him was caught up in the nonsense too.

Any "commentary" stops there, however, and we're left with an admonishment that God is a legitimate ruler because he has suffered too - or maybe that we should suffer because God is a legitimate ruler. Either is fine. What more can be said? It's unintentionally the funniest part of this premeditated farce, light-years ahead of HAY THIS GUY IS A PSEUD and HAY LOOK HE'S RIDING AN ELUHFANT!

As a thriller it fails miserably. Who can care when the title says it's all a dream? The one, single suspenseful scene - a few cops surrounded by an angry mob on a pier - was utterly ruined when the leader of that mob was also an ally.

On one point I can praise this book: the lively, grotesque descriptions of the Council members' disguises - the secretary's smile, Bull's glasses, and especially the belabored, shaking movements of Professor de Worms brought a genuine smile to my face.

Chesterton is not a horrible writer; he's simply out of his league. He had the idea to write a book about ideas, but it was too big for him. He read Ecclesiastes, and tried to write the first half of Candide.

(Those are both good)
--------------------
review courtesy of strangemoe.net

honestly, i knew exactly what was going to happen in the novel, the entire plot with one exception, 1/3 of the way through it. it robbed me of the suspense and ruined it for me. but what could chesterton possibly expect? when the same thing happens six times in a row, and that makes up the bulk of the story, i'm sorry but it's just not very exciting. i expected a proto-kafka sort of tale based on the reviews here, but ended up with this: the same thing happens over and over and over, but under slightly different circumstances, with all of the characters acting surprised when it happens again and again, again and again, and yes, again even. it may even happen one more time, but i stopped caring. that is probably 80% of the book. the one thing that surprised me was the explanation of the characters' names, which was a horrible let-down and made the whole novel even more disappointing.

a good read if you're a hard-core christian in desperate need of affirmation. to the rest of us it's a tremendous bore.

A true classic by a masterful author, what more can be said? I was gifted this book at no charge by the store for my Kindle. I have enjoyed reading it very much, and want to thank the author for generously providing the work free of cost.