A Father Brown Mystery taken from The Innocence of Father Brown. This version is great way to introduce someone to G. K. Chesterton's great amateur detective.
Gilbert Keith Chesterton was an English writer, philosopher, lay theologian, and literary and art critic.
He was educated at St. Paul’s, and went to art school at University College London. In 1900, he was asked to contribute a few magazine articles on art criticism, and went on to become one of the most prolific writers of all time. He wrote a hundred books, contributions to 200 more, hundreds of poems, including the epic Ballad of the White Horse, five plays, five novels, and some two hundred short stories, including a popular series featuring the priest-detective, Father Brown. In spite of his literary accomplishments, he considered himself primarily a journalist. He wrote over 4000 newspaper essays, including 30 years worth of weekly columns for the Illustrated London News, and 13 years of weekly columns for the Daily News. He also edited his own newspaper, G.K.’s Weekly.
Chesterton was equally at ease with literary and social criticism, history, politics, economics, philosophy, and theology.
Una de las cosas que más me gusta en El candor del padre Brown, además de las virtudes de la prosa, es la variedad de las historias (algo importantísimo en las series policiales). Parece que Chesterton se esfuerza por ambientar cada una en un escenario particular y distinto, y por momentos que esfuerza más en esto que en diseñar un misterio decente. La historia del Príncipe Saradine tiene lugar en una Inglaterra antigua y misteriosa, con tintes góticos. También hay menciones explícitas al país de las hadas, que el padre Brown describe, apropiadamente, como algo macabro. El problema, en concreto, un caso de mistaken identity que como suele ocurrir con este tipo de historias deja un tendal de cabos sueltos.
The opening reminded me of Phantastes, appropriately enough with some insightful commentary on fairyland--it's not always wrong to go, but it's always dangerous. And a great dialogue sequence came later: "Do you believe in doom?' asked the restless Prince Saradine suddenly. "No," answered his guest. "I believe in Doomsday." The prince turned from the window and stared at him in a singular manner, his face in shadow against the sunset. "What do you mean?" he asked. "I mean that we here are on the wrong side of the tapestry," answered Father Brown. "The things that happen here do not seem to mean anything: they mean something somewhere else. Somewhere else retribution will come on the real offender. Here it often seems to fall on the wrong person."
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
A Duel of Wit and Morality In The Sins of Prince Saradine, Chesterton crafts a tale of deception and revenge, pitting cunning against conscience. The prose sparkles with wit, but the plot unfolds predictably, dampening its impact. The moral lesson is clear — vanity and pride lead to downfall — yet the characters feel more like symbols than living figures.
While enjoyable as a quick read, the story lacks the narrative punch of Chesterton’s stronger mysteries. It earns its 3/5 rating by being clever but not memorable, a duel of ideas rather than emotions.
A pleasure trip on the rivers of Norfolk takes Father Brown to a strange house of bamboo and mirrors. The inhabitants are even stranger: a disreputable prince, his comfortably at home butler, and a foreign housekeeper whose sombre eyes are suggestive of a secret.
All the mirrors put the ever alert ecclesiastic in an anxious psychological state whenever he sees the 'multiplication of human masks' passing along them.