The above title is of a book, published 100 years ago in 1908. It is the single-best book published in the last hundred years. Take it on faith if you must. Read it, you will find out. The book is profound, witty, memorable, incisive, and brilliant. It is, of course, G. K. Chesterton’s Orthodoxy.
The book is not an “autobiography.” Chesterton later, just before he died in 1936, did publish his Autobiography. The Autobiography began with an ironic spoof of the higher criticism, biblical and otherwise. Though he could not “prove” it, he admitted nonetheless that he took it on faith that he actually was born. Here is how he put it:
Bowing down in blind credulity, as is my custom, before mere authority and the tradition of the elders, superstitiously swallowing a story I could not test at the time by experiment of private judgment, I am firmly of the opinion that I was born on the 29th of May, 1874, on Campden Hill, Kensington; and baptized according to the formularies of the Church of England . . . .
How utterly amusing that is!
Chesterton, in the Autobiography, also cited his Scottish grandfather in a passage I have never forgotten. His grandfather Keith, from whence Chesterton received his middle name, said, shockingly, that he would thank God for his existence even if he went to hell. When you have sorted out the theology and metaphysics implicit in that striking remark, you are well on your way to understanding the real nature of things — of what is good, of what is the origin of evil.
But Orthodoxy is an intellectual autobiography, an intellectual treat. It is not, as Chesterton says, about whether the faith is true or not, but about how he came to believe that it is. In coming to believe in Christianity, Chesterton, as he tells us, did not read a single Christian book in the process. Rather, he read book after book of those who maintained that Christianity could not possibly be true. After he had read many of these tractates, he suddenly realized that the intellectual opponents of Christianity were constantly contradicting themselves about what they were opposing. Chesterton, the most logical of men, figured that anything so odd as to be opposed for the exact opposite reasons must either be quite strange or, in fact, rather normal and true.
I do not recall now how many times I have read this little book. It is always a delight. It is 160 pages long. It takes both no time and forever to read it. It is almost impossible to put down once you begin it. Many editions of Orthodoxy have been published in the past century. I myself possess a 1924, London, Bodley Head Edition, a falling-apart 1974 Doubleday Image paperback edition, and the first volume of the 1986 Ignatius Press Collected Works.
Orthodoxy can easily be found online via Google, but it is best to own it. The book has been translated into many languages. Just how Chesterton’s famous paradoxes sound in French or Polish, I have no idea. Chesterton is so typically English that it is difficult to imagine understanding him in some other tongue. But the same could be said of almost any book translated into another language, beginning with Plato.
The book is essentially about what it is to be sane, normal, to see the world as ordinary people see it. The scientific mind has its own foibles, which Chesterton has great fun pointing out. Chesterton is not “anti-scientific,” but he is devastating with science when it is not itself reasonable.
Three years before Orthodoxy, in 1905, Chesterton published Heretics. This book accounted for the great intellectuals of his era. It is most amusing and insightful. After he had published Heretics, a man by the name of G. S. Street wrote that “it is all very well for me (Chesterton) to tell everybody to affirm his cosmic theory, but that I had carefully avoided supporting my precepts with example. ‘I (Street) will begin to worry about my philosophy when Mr. Chesterton has given us his.'” Chesterton was delighted with the challenge. Orthodoxy is the happy result.
The first chapter of Orthodoxy is titled “The Maniac.” The madman is not someone who does not think; he is a man who only thinks one thought and cannot balance it off with the rest of reality.
The next chapter is called “The Suicide of Thought,” almost an advanced description of too many modern philosophy departments. Chesterton had before him books of Nietzsche, Shaw, Schopenhauer, and Tolstoy.
They are all on the road to the emptiness of the asylum. For madness may be defined as using mental activity so as to reach mental helplessness, and they [modern thinkers] have nearly reached it. He, who thinks he is made of glass, thinks to the destruction of thought; for glass cannot think. So he who wills to reject nothing, wills the destruction of will; for will is not only the choice of something, but the rejection of almost everything.
That is a pithy description of modern relativism, skepticism, and non-judgmentalism.
Let me conclude: This is not a book review. It is an alert. When I read the following passage, I knew that the world, as I suspected, was essentially good, as the Creed says:
No other philosophy makes God actually rejoice in the separation of the universe into living souls. But according to orthodox Christianity this separation between God and man is sacred, because this separation is eternal. That a man may love God it is necessary that there should be not only a God to be loved, but a man to love him.
On finishing this passage, I had no difficulty in knowing that it was the truth. Orthodoxy is full of such “knowings,” even more so a century after it was first published.

Rev. James V. Schall, S.J.


Rev. James V. Schall, S.J., taught political science at Georgetown University for many years. He is the author of The Mind That Is Catholic from Catholic University of America Press; Remembering Belloc from St. Augustine Press; and Reasonable Pleasures from Ignatius Press. His newest books include A Line Through the Human Heart: On Sinning and Being Forgiven (2016) and On the Principles of Taxing Beer and Other Brief Philosophical Essays (2017). His most recent book is Catholicism and Intelligence (Emmaus Road, 2017).

  • Billy Lalor

    I read Orthodoxy last year on Father Schall’s recommendation and it was tremendously helpful to my ever-ongoing conversion. Something else that has been instumental in teaching and strengthening my Catholic faith has been reading Schall’s books and essays. Abolutely!–read Chesterton–but do not miss out on reading Father Schall!!

  • Tom Gnau

    I have read Orthodoxy only twice. I should read it again. Indeed, I should make such a reading an annual event, like Christmas, Easter or one’s birthday.

    What a wonderful book.


  • Mr. Graves

    Yay! — An opportunity to share my favorite quote from Orthodoxy:

    “There was something that He [Jesus] hid from all men when He went up a mountain to pray. There was something that He covered constantly by abrupt silence or impetuous isolation. There was some one thing that was too great for God to show us when He walked upon our earth; and I have sometimes fancied that it was His mirth.”

    A classic Chesterton gem — and so true!

  • Tim Benson

    When I was 17 (I’m 57 now), I responded to a magazine ad (I don’t remember which magazine) that offered, for free, copies of Chesterton’s Orthodoxy and Dorothy Sayers’ The Lost Tools of Learning provided one made a one-year subscription to the magazine. I’d never even heard of Sayers or Chesterton, much less read them. When Orthodoxy arrived in the mail, it came as a tabloid-sized newspaper, small print, maybe eight pages. I read it in one sitting, thus starting a love affair with the writings of Chesterton that continues to this day. (The Sayers’ article started the same kind of affair with her writing as well!) I still have that tabloid version of Orthodoxy. I treasure it. I re-read it every year. It is one of the essential tools in the toolbox of my Catholic faith.

  • Nick Palmer

    Rev. Schall has done more than any other person to guide me to important books. His unerring recommendations have been a source of delight and inspiration. Orthodoxy will soon find its way into my hands, probably today.
    For any who follow National Review Online and The Corner, John Derbyshire has been carrying on an increasingly shrill “conversation” regarding the non-existence of God and the absolute rightness of the secular interpretation of Darwin. Perhaps Rev. Schall and he could collaborate in a point-counterpoint dialog.

  • Chris D Johnson

    I was an average Catholic (maybe a little over average), in my late teens, and I read almost anything. Looking back I think that I was trying to prove to myself that my church was just another church or that there was no God.
    That kind of search came to an end with Orthodoxy, then Newman and Sheen.
    Religious writers are often so serious that their heavy subjects are difficult for the average reader. The light touch and the humour made reading much easier although I had to read Orhtodoxy twice.

  • Mark Curley

    While it would have been joyful and fortuitous to have been alive when G. K. Chesterton penned his masterpiece among others—we can be as grateful and sharp if we take notice today of Fr. Schall’s present guidance as well.