The Trees of Pride

By G. K. Chesterton

"We wish you'd get rid of what you've got here, sir," he observed, digging doggedly. "Nothing'll grow right with them here." "Shrubs " said the Squire, laughing. "You don't call the peacock trees shrubs, do you? Fine tall trees -- you ought to be proud of them." "Ill weeds grow apace," observed the gardener. "Weeds can grow as houses when somebody plants them." Then he added: "Him that sowed tares in the Bible, Squire." "Oh, blast your --" began the Squire, and then replaced the more apt and alliterative word "Bible" by the general word "superstition." He was himself a robust rationalist, but he went to church to set his tenants an example. Of what, it would have puzzled him to say.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Start Classics
• Release date: Feb 18, 2014
• ISBN: 9781609773618

G. K. Chesterton

G.K. Chesterton (1874–1936) was an English writer, philosopher and critic known for his creative wordplay. Born in London, Chesterton attended St. Paul’s School before enrolling in the Slade School of Fine Art at University College. His professional writing career began as a freelance critic where he focused on art and literature. He then ventured into fiction with his novels The Napoleon of Notting Hill and The Man Who Was Thursday as well as a series of stories featuring Father Brown.

Reviews for The Trees of Pride

[bayardus-1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

If you've read a lot of Chesterton's mysteries, you see many of the twists of this one coming. Upon the first meeting of the poet and the nobleman's daughter, you can guess how that's going to turn out- it's a favorite Chesterton trope. Likewise with the eventual resolution, which I'll admit I didn't have pegged down exactly, but with Chesterton you know that there's going to be something that reveals the story as not exactly how you assumed it to be. I really should have guessed the solution given that one of Chesterton's favorite drums to beat (which I find incredibly annoying) is the wisdom of the superstitions of the poor and the foolishness of the nobility for not paying those superstitions more heed. In both essays and stories alike Chesterton asserts that the educated world doesn't believe in things like ghosts because the common person does, and because the common person does the rest reject it out of hand. This never struck me as true- people of all classes believe such things, since money can't buy an understanding of the scientific method.

Anyway, back to the story, it didn't have many memorable lines like I'm used to for Chesterton, as there wasn't any character energetic enough and Chesterton-esque enough to deliver them. In some ways this was one of the most straight-forward mysteries I've ever read by Chesterton, with the main characters questioning suspects and gathering clues and analyzing the evidence. Unfortunately, the boilerplate mystery elements aren't what I go to Chesterton for. There wasn't the joy and happiness that usually characterizes many of Chesterton's stories, even those stories that are murder mysteries. In the end, therefore, I found this story serviceable, but it's not as good as the best Chesterton mysteries- Father Brown mysteries and The Club of Queer Trades both outshine this story in a myriad of ways. Still, I'd take mediocre Chesterton over the best works of most other authors any day of the week.