What can one say about G. K. Chesterton that has not been said by many people? A conservative thinker par excellence, sometimes so conservative that he was driven to inventing an England that never really existed but would have been quite enchanting had it done so; a writer of detective stories that frequently turned into magical fantasies while creating completely new ideas and plots; a novelist of huge imagination; a literary critic; a crusading journalist; and, sometimes, a man of rather dubious political views.
Born on May 29, 1874, he lived through turbulent times (sometimes making them even more turbulent) and died on June 14, 1936, realizing before his death that the casual and often unpleasant anti-Semitism that he indulged in was leading to something far more horrific in Europe.
He has inspired at least two societies, one English and one American, both concentrating on the Catholicism of his writing, something he would have approved of. Looking at all the different sites that deal with the different aspects of Chesterton's life and writings I have found myself being drawn back to his mysteries, a word he used in its many different meanings but, particularly, in connection with detective stories. Elizabeth Foxwell on The Bunburyist links to several of his essays on the subject.