Chesterton’s peaks, valleys

Recently there was a Twitter discussion of my 1988 book Gilbert: The Man Who Was G.K. Chesterton. In that it was written a quarter-of-a-century ago, and I’ve written 10 books and thousands of articles since, I was partly flattered, partly amazed. There have also been several biographies of the grand Catholic author and journalist since then, some of them — frankly — rather better than mine. So, why the sudden interest?

The reason is monomania, wrapped in the last acceptable prejudice of anti-Catholicism. Chesterton is in the news because a canonization attempt has been initiated. I take no particular stand on the issue; whether Chesterton is accepted as a saint or not says nothing about his literary greatness.

But, as I predicted when all this started, talk of saintliness would resurrect accusations of anti-Semitism. And there is no denying that he did indeed make some unpleasant and hurtful comments about Jews, and that on some Jewish issues he lacked the empathy and compassion he routinely evinced elsewhere. But he was an early anti-Nazi, condemning German anti-Semitism in 1934, when many others, including figures on the left, were silent or ambivalent. He was also loved by several Jewish friends, who were explicit in defending him against charges of Jew-hatred...