I’m reading G. K. Chesteron’s biography of Thomas Aquinas. I figure if anyone can make me more sympathetic to Aquinas, it’s Chesterton. It’s not that I particularly dislike Aquinas, but having not understood what Aristotle was trying to do, and having only the vaguest understanding of Christianity, I understandably couldn’t appreciate what Aquinas was doing with the two. I think we read Aquinas only briefly at St. John’s, and then it seems to have been either right before or right after a break, so I understood even less of what I might otherwise.

Chesterton’s biography so far is, as he admits, more of a sketch than a biography. I haven’t read any Chesteron for some time and find myself having to adjust to his particular writing style. Reading Chesterton is like taking a leisurely stroll with many jaunts off the path to explore some butterfly or flower that has caught his eye. Sometimes I wish he would be more explicit about some of his assumptions and definitions, but at the same time, I enjoy the stroll.