Sunday, 30 December 2007
The Man Who Was Sunday
I’m heavy with a cold and in no mood or fit state to write. I’m about to climb back into bed and finish G.K. Chesterton's ‘The Man Who Was Thursday’. For contractual reasons to do with the Richard&Judy Book Club, I can’t recommend that you read it. It’s not about middle-aged women experiencing life-changing events on holiday in Spain, or office romances set in Luton. Nor is it the heart warming tale of the survivor of an explosion at the country’s largest kipper factory. In fact, it’s not the sort of thing that would get into our book club, it being a silly little tale about anarchy and order, written in prose that shines like polished silver. I’m reading it very slowly so I can savour every moment of its brilliance. I certainly don’t recommend that you rush out and buy yourself a copy.