Much has been said in praise of Chesterton's The Everlasting Man in the nine decades since it was first published, but somehow it remains today less famous than it deserves to be, by several orders of magnitude. This book gives a clear and compelling defense of Christianity, on both historical and philosophical grounds, timeless perhaps in its truths but very timely indeed in how and to whom it presents them. Page after boisterous page, Chesterton is funny, eloquent, cheeky, and rigorously logical. Every educated Christian ought to be familiar with The Everlasting Man.
A reader shouldn't embark upon this book with any fear of boredom. Chesterton is a master of the English prose style: Every sentence is a delight to read, every word is carefully set in place, and each paragraph flows powerfully and pleasantly from its beginning to its close. His books are worth reading even if only for the pleasure of their symmetry and clarity. Chesterton's writing, however, has much more to recommend it than mere beauty of form. In my experience, his three most impressive and endearing intellectual attributes are: his common sense, his erudition, and his piety. Each is spectacularly on display in The Everlasting Man.
The book opens in the foggy unfamiliarity of prehistory, with a discussion of the so-called 'caveman' of antiquity. Chesterton assembles the modern allegations against our forgotten ancestor: that the caveman went around naked, murderous and violent, beating his women and dominating his rivals. Chesterton, with his characteristic directness, seeks evidence to support any of these claims, but again and again he finds that there's never been any physical proof to lend them even a hint of confirmation. In the final account, Chesterton says, all we can know about the man in the cave is what he did in the cave: The man in the cave drew pictures. The man in the cave noticed a graceful curve in the neck of a grazing horse, and, filled with wonder, he represented it on the wall of rock. We can know only that the man in the cave made art.
And evolution, provided with however great or small a time to do its work, can by no means explain the caveman's art. This is where Chesterton's great apologetic accomplishment begins in earnest.
Chesterton, buoyant with common sense and uncommon wit, composes an argument guided by twin aims: to establish that humanity is nothing less than a miracle, and to prove that Christianity cannot be anything else but a work of God Himself. He deals with the former in his treatment of the caveman, but it's only when he begins to address the latter that his impressive knowledge of ancient literature really makes an appearance.
Our scholars have invented all sorts of developmental stories to account for the historical human movements from instinct to reason, from wilderness to civilization, from superstition to religion, from mythology to philosophy. None of these explanations, however, is anything but fanciful, Chesterton argues: There is no predictable graduation from nomadic tribes to tyrannies to lawful civilizations in the primary sources. All three exist side-by-side in our earliest written accounts, and all three are already ancient in those days. There is, likewise, no rational progression from animism to polytheistic pantheons to monotheism in written history. If anything, the evidence seems to push us in the other direction; the pantheons are made up of many solitary gods who seem once to have had a monotheism of their own outside the pantheon, like Jupiter whose name translates to 'Our Father who art in heaven', or Pan, the simple forest-god whose name is 'Everything'.
Chesterton proposes a story of history very different from the narratives asserted in fashionable scholarship, a story much more carefully rooted in the primary sources of antiquity. I can trace its vaguest outline here, but for the full articulation of his view, you'll have to read the book.
Humanity before Christianity was really composed of three broad schools: the populists, the philosophers, and the diabolists.
The populists, who were shepherds, farmers, carpenters, etc., believed in local myths, and household deities, and elaborate pantheons. They had priests and rituals ands many, many stories about the gods and their children. The important thing to remember about the populists, Chesterton emphasizes, is that they were not dogmatic. They didn't have creeds, or a distinction between orthodoxy and heresy. Their mythologies were always growing and adapting. But there was one thing that did not change, one thing which in the middle of the loud revelry was held to with a deadly seriousness: Piety must not be transgressed. That is the truth of the populists. The entire mythological project is an elaboration of that one, inescapable conviction.
The philosophers were typically the elite few who had the time, the interest, and the intelligence to consider more exalted matters. In some cases a larger community may be converted to philosophical faith; as in the case of Buddhism, or Confucianism, or perhaps even Judaism. Normally, though, philosophy was reserved for those who desired to understand the world rationally, often studied by kings and rulers and their royal heirs.
For the most part, the philosophers didn't bother the populists, and vice versa. They lived peacefully, side by side. Neither, however, could abide the third class, here called the diabolists. The central conflict in history is between the populists/philosophers and the diabolists, most vividly pictured in the Punic Wars. The trading empire of Tyre and Sidon, of Carthage, was the civilization that once worshiped Moloch. The people dealt with dark powers because dark powers, if you get their attention and buy their favor, make mighty allies. Human sacrifice, and the slaughter of children in particular, was the quickest pathway to diabolical influence, and so the children were offered. Rome and Israel alike despised it. The war between the Romans and the Carthaginians waged on until Hannibal brought it to the doorstep of Rome, and victory seemed certain. Then, in the most terrible hours of that conflict, the tide turned, and the Romans swept forward with renewed vigor, pushing back the diabolists to the gates of Carthage, and then destroying the city utterly. The philosophies and mythologies of antiquity flourished in this moment of glory. Rome seemed to be the greatest civilization the world could ever know.
And in subsequent decades, that civilization soured and weakened, the myths drawing people into wild madnesses and the philosophers falling into a very sober madness. Diabolism began to surface in Rome, and there was no way to slow its growth. Surely, thought the world, if the piety of the shepherds and the systems of the philosophers pointed to any true God existing beyond this life, now is the time when He would step into history and make Himself known.
Now, in those days a child was born. His birth was attended by pious shepherds on the one side and foreign sages on the other, and it was surrounded by a devilish slaughter of innocents. He was named Salvation, and His legacy has never failed.
The remainder of Chesterton's book deals with the Church, from its earliest days with Jesus, right down to the present age. I won't attempt to summarize such a beautiful and rousing account as that one. Instead, I'll end this review with three thoughts.
1. You have every reason to read this book. It is brilliantly argued, beautifully written, and it treats a very worthwhile question. We should learn from it, and we should also imitate it. Even its occasional weaknesses (inconsistent categories, confusing structure) only force the reader to think through the argument more closely.
2. You have no reason not to read this book. You can access it for free online; you can even listen to the free audiobook on librivox.org on your way to work. It's written plainly and simply, intended not only for specialists but for anyone who's interested. It's a quick and easy read, even if it is at times world-shattering.
3. You should read this book. You'll be glad you did.
A few years ago I led our leadership team through a study of "The Everlasting Man."
Posted by: Brian Zahnd | August 28, 2012 at 07:54 PM
Liked this.
Posted by: Idrian | August 28, 2012 at 02:28 PM