This is a book of short stories, each a crime investigation by a high-society Englishman. It reminded me a lot of Sherlock Holmes' stories, although Chesterton's main character is very different from Doyle's.

I've been reading a couple G.K. Chesterton books lately, and I really want to like him, because he's so highly praised among the educated elites I read. I just am finding him hard to get into; he's too British. C.S. Lewis had a writing style that didn't make him feel unapproachably British; his British colloquialisms and phrases were quaint, but didn't feel foreign or indecipherable. Somehow, however, when I read G.K. Chesterton I feel like he's talking above me (which he probably is; he was obviously much smarter than I am) and using a language I barely understand (Chesterton's British English feels much more foreign than Lewis', somehow).

Anyways, about this book in particular, G.K. sets up very intricate plots and very innovative situations, so that part is great. I had trouble understanding the main character, and I think it's because he's "so British", to my mind anyways, in his values and opinions. There's one story that's dependent on intricate details of British politics, and that one had me completely lost. I didn't even really understand what was going on. Just as when I read Chesterton's "The Napoleon of Notting Hill", I felt like it was a brilliant inside joke that I couldn't fully appreciate because I wasn't "inside".