‘The Ball and the Cross’: A Frantic, Fictional Dialogue Between Atheism and Faith
A review of ‘The Ball and the Cross’, by G.K. Chesterton; Dover Publications, 2023.
G.K. Chesterton was one of those eccentric, larger-than-live literary types who was dubbed ‘the prince of paradox’ due to his fondness for, as Time put it, making his points ‘with popular sayings, proverbs, allegories — first carefully turning them inside out.’ He has the power of blending humour with serious topics, expressing what Christopher Hitchens, in his ‘Proust Questionnaire’ called one of his favourite qualities: the ability to be serious about the silly, and silly about the serious. In The Ball and the Cross, Chesterton brings together out-and-out comedy, satire and spiritual reflection in a story in which two men with wildly different beliefs fight to defend their incommensurate worldviews.
The story kicks off with a bizarre encounter. Evan MacIan, a fiery Catholic who is fiercely devoted to his faith, reads an article in a paper edited by James Turnbull, a staunchly rationalist atheist. The article mocks the Virgin Mary. Enraged, MacIan confronts Turnbull, sparking off a rivalry that morphs throughout the story into a mad kind of ongoing duel. Society attempt to restrain these two men as they chase each other round the country, both driven by the conviction that the other man’s ideology is an insult. The tension between their views, and the extreme lengths to which each man will go to defend his, are the heart of the book. There are wild chases, brushes with the law, and a more-or-less ongoing debate on faith and rationality.
Society attempt to restrain these two men as they chase each other round the country.
Chesterton was a devout Catholic who wrote Christian apologetics, but one of the points he makes in The Ball and the Cross is that to take beliefs seriously in a world that treats conviction with irony is dangerous. Neither MacIan nor Turnbull are willing to compromise, even as they recognise admirable traits in each other. This gives rise to tension but also to a mutual respect. Chesterton uses the absurdity of their duel to ask questions about the role of belief in society, and what happens to those who live by faith or ideology. In the end, he suggests that it is human nature to search for certainty, even if it leads to conflict. Without a degree of certainty—for Chesterton expressed through faith than ideology—we cannot bear the chaos of the world. Elsewhere, he wrote that ‘’When men choose not to believe in God, they do not thereafter believe in nothing, they then become capable of believing in anything.’
Chesterton’s style is sharp, witty, full of paradoxes. His humour is subtle and ironic. This is badly needed, since it turns what could be and often is a weighty philosophical discussion into something a bit more lively. The characters, namely MacIan and Turnbull, are not vividly drawn; but then they are avatars, marked more by the strength of their conviction than the richness of their personalities, each standing for a side in the argument Chesterton wants to have. MacIan’s dogged devotion to Catholicism and Turnbull’s passion for rationalism give way by degrees to the discovery that belief is necessary and that their humanity binds them.
The characters, namely MacIan and Turnbull, are not vividly drawn; but then they are avatars.
Still, a writer like Chesterton faces the technical challenge of getting bogged down in his own arguments, or losing sight of what it means to tell a good story by trying to make a point instead. The endless pursuit of the two men, and the philosophical back-and-forth, grow a bit tiresome as the plot becomes less about rising tension, leading to resolution and catharsis, and more about sustaining the debate. It is all very well and good to say that thinking about ideas is not about reach an answer but refining the question—this, after all, is the core of philosophy—but it does not always make for good reading. The novel nevertheless asks us to think about where we stand on faith, reason and what, if anything, we would die—or kill—to defend.
It is an odd little book. Chesterton brings humour and philosophy together with the aim of provoking thought while entertaining us. He half-succeeds. Yet we must give him his due: he takes the views of both his characters seriously, at once … the desirability of belief but also the folly that comes with it. If you are interested in faith, ideology and the absurdity of modern life then you may find this book, which reads like a rather unhinged, fictitious Socratic dialogue, compelling.
