The Man Who Was Thursday

There are, of course, books that I have read because I feel that I ought to. This was, in a way, one of those books. I wished to be introduced to the fiction of GK Chesterton and this book sounded odd enough to be interesting (and the library had a copy). I do not know if it is my own deficiencies in intellect, or limited exposure to this style, but I was primarily confused by the book. I found myself feeling that I had fallen through a rabbit hole and emerged somewhere between Perelandra and the circus.
It was a journey steeped in extensive vocabulary opportunities, but frustrating to feel that I could not remotely begin to discern the meaning of a word since I had limited ideas as to what was taking place in the sentence.
There is an annotated edition available...