Chesterton is of course a brilliant essayist, but I prefer his fiction, as the form requires that his sometimes-distracting digressive tendencies be held in check. Manalive is another one of Chesterton’s “moral mysteries.” [Semi-Spoiler Alert] No actual crimes are committed. Or rather, it appears that some are–a burglary, an attempted murder and an adulterous affair–but in true “locked room” fashion, we discover that all is not what it seems. Mary–one half of the affair–utters what is for some reason my favorite line, concerning her husband’s curious “hobby” that has only recently been exposed: “Oh, my Sunday hat! I should think it was silly! But what do you expect? He really is a good man, and it might have been snakes or something.” ( )

Other people have already written on what this book is about, so I will write on why this book is so good simply taken as fiction. I find this passage, from the Warden's account of the occurences at Brakespeare College, sums it up quite well:

"There is something pleasing to a mystic in such a land of mirrors. For a mystic is one who holds that two worlds are better than one. In the highest sense indeed, all thought is reflection.

"This is the real truth in the saying that second thoughts are best. Animals have no second thoughts; man alone is able to see his own thought double, as a drunkard sees a lamp-post. Man alone is able to see his own thought upside down as one sees a house in a puddle. This duplication of mentality, as in a mirror, is (we repeat) the inmost thing of human philosophy. There is a mystical, even a monstrous truth in the statement that two heads are better than one. But they ought both to grow on the same body."

This is the glory of well-written fiction. Good fiction provides an engaging, lovely story full of themes both mundane and sublime, and it also acknowledges that the story is in essence a reflection of the original world and story God created. The clearer a writer's reflection of the majesty and beauty of this earthly world, the more wondrous the story. Chesterton realized that "a puddle repeats infinity, and is full of light; nevertheless, if analyzed objectively, a puddle is a piece of dirty water spread very thin on mud." And though earthly fiction might be but a thin puddle, it repeats infinity. Manalive reflects this infinity especially well because Chesterton was truly "Manalive."

Definitely one of my top 5 all-time favorite books. ( )