The stories we read

Chesterton’s The Trees of Pride.


Mystery. Superstition. Legends. Disappearances. Death. Truth and Reality.

Sore throat. Piles of laundry. Dirty dishes.

These two lists have nothing in common.

EXCEPT that they do, because two days ago when I was curled up with a cold for company (second list), I also read G. K. Chesteron’s The Trees of Pride(first list).

It’s a short story about four chapters long. Chesterton seems to be a genius at making things to seem exactly what they aren’t; in short, as my friend who recommended this author said, he is the master of the paradox. What appears to be a British mystery proves to be a beautifully-written story that (to put it in a scholarly way) blew my mind.

Ah, Chesterton. At the moment, you’re over my foggy little head, but this won’t be the last time we meet. Perhaps the next time, I will better know how to read you.

Enjoy The Trees of Pride below.

And P.S.: the real Trees ofPride look nothing like my picture, in case that wasn’t already apparent. 😉


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