- Paperback: 240 pages
- Publisher: Headline Review; Pbk. Ed edition (12 July 2007)
- Language English
- ISBN-10: 0755338863
- ISBN-13: 978-0755338863
- Product Dimensions: 2.5 x 13.3 x 20.3 cm
- Average Customer Review: 3.0 out of 5 stars See all reviews (4 customer reviews)
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- #86 in Books > Fiction > Religious & Inspirational > Classics
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More About the Author
Product Description
Product Description
A group of anarchists are under surveillance by Scotland Yard in Chesterton's hugely popular metaphysical thriller.
The Supreme Anarchists Council is dedicated to overthrowing the world order. To keep their identities a secret, each of them has been named a day of the week. Gabriel Syme, an eccentric poet, is recruited by Scotland Yard to infiltrate the group. He tracks down the six men and manages to win a place on the council. But in a bizarre and surreal twist of events, Syme realises that five of the six members are not at all what they seem...
About the Author
Gilbert Keith Chesterton was born in 1874, the son of a prosperous estate agent in west
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Customer Reviews
Most Helpful Customer Reviews
7 of 9 people found the following review helpful
Format:Paperback
For a book that's as short as this one, "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, literate little satire that will both amuse and educate you. Not bad for a book often subtitled "A Nightmare."
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, literate little satire that will both amuse and educate you. Not bad for a book often subtitled "A Nightmare."
3 of 4 people found the following review helpful
Format:Paperback
I made a bit of a mistake with this. I bought it hoping for a 'swashbuckling yarn' along the lines of The 39 Steps, King Solomon's Mines or The Prisoner of Zenda. What I got was a surreal fable, written in a very plain style, which ends without a satisfactory conclusion.
I suspect that this is in fact a very clever allegorical tale, but I am not clever enough to make sense of it and so found it a bit of a frustrating waste of time. That said it is only about 150 pages long and I what else are you going to on the Tube?
I suspect that this is in fact a very clever allegorical tale, but I am not clever enough to make sense of it and so found it a bit of a frustrating waste of time. That said it is only about 150 pages long and I what else are you going to on the Tube?
1 of 3 people found the following review helpful
Format:Paperback
Taken on by the police to infiltrate a group of anarchists, main protagonist Gerald Syme finds that all is not what it seems, and that he's not the only one infiltrating the group. Need I go on? I wasn't sure whether this was meant to be a comedy or a comment on anarchism - or at which of the two it failed most dismally. It's certainly not funny.
It's something of a shaggy dog story as characters pursue one another through London and France - though there's little sense of scene or character. The bulk of the plot is so predictable it becomes very tedious indeed. After nearly 200 pages one of the characters declares "it seems to make everything nonsense..." Too right.
Tacked on at the end are some equally irritating religious allegorical musings, and if these demonstrate whatever point G K Chesterton was trying to make he'd have been better putting them in a religious tract. I could then have avoided it, instead of wasting my time reading what I thought was a novel.
It's something of a shaggy dog story as characters pursue one another through London and France - though there's little sense of scene or character. The bulk of the plot is so predictable it becomes very tedious indeed. After nearly 200 pages one of the characters declares "it seems to make everything nonsense..." Too right.
Tacked on at the end are some equally irritating religious allegorical musings, and if these demonstrate whatever point G K Chesterton was trying to make he'd have been better putting them in a religious tract. I could then have avoided it, instead of wasting my time reading what I thought was a novel.
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