Genius of Paradox

"Genius oughtn't to be eccentric!" he cried in some excitement. "Genius ought to be centric. It ought to be in the core of the cosmos, not on the revolving edges."
- The Poet and the Lunatics by G.K. Chesterton

I found this treasure of a book in Oxford, at a small bookshop on St. Aldates that I frequent every time I am there. To my delight, it is a first edition, from 1929.

This book had me chuckling so many times, I lost count. It is the genius of the writer. The master of paradox and deeper thought behind seemingly superficial banter. A conversation in G.K. Chesterton's books almost always begin with a silly notion, but somehow circle around a paradox and pick up some relevant theological issues along the way that suddenly sprouts out and when you finally catch on to what they are talking about, you smile because you had so much fun getting there.

That is what G.K. Chesterton does. He weaves stories and mixes in issues that need to be solved, and in these stories, the mysteries are not solved by rational thought and conclusive evidence, but with poetical notions and observations made by Gabriel Gale, who tends to be the opposite of a practical policeman or doctor.

"Because I am not good at practical things," answered Gale, "and you have got beyond practical things."

I am amazed at how stories can portray such deep truths amidst a crazy and topsy-turvy tale that you can barely follow sometimes (seems like he does that on purpose), but that comes right side up at the end.

Certain days we feel upside down and can hardly make sense of the world full of evil, pain, suffering, and hurt. Each day goes against our practicality in many ways, and facing it with the so-called practical sense is like facing a giant with a pea. We need to go beyond the practical, and sometimes look at the world while standing on our heads. A different view of the same thing provokes the imagination.

"Do you call that practical? You can only forbid him to die. Can you persuade him to live? Believe me, that is where we come in. A man must have his head in the clouds and his wits wool-gathering in fairyland, before he can do anything so practical as that."