The Man Who Was Thursday

i finished reading the book the man who was thursday ... it's by g.k. chesterton ...
if you haven't heard of the book or the author don't worry ... i had never heard of them either ... but i read in GQ magazine that this is the funniest book ever written ... so that was my motivation for getting the book ... i actually ordered it online ... anyway i was not disappointed at all ... it's a brilliant book ... i'd like to tell you about the book but i can't do that without giving too much away simply because there so many twists in the plot ... all i can tell you is that the main character in the book is called gabriel syme ... he is recruited by the scotland yard to infiltrate the council of anarchists ... this council is composed of seven members ... each member is named for a day of the week ... for example the president of the council goes by the name of sunday ... as for how syme infiltrates the council ... and what happens once he does infiltrate it ... you will have to read the book to know all that ... but i guarantee you that it it is an awesome, fascinating, incredible, marvelous, shocking, stunning, surprising, wonderful, thrilling adventure ... and by the way it's not a thick book ... you can easily finish it in less than a week ...

now is it the funniest book ever written as GQ proclaimed it to be ... well ... it's written by a british guy ... so it's more witty than funny ... in the sense that it's more clever than humorous ... like it won't make you laugh out loud ... at most it'll make you chuckle ... so i would say it's definitely one of the wittiest books i've ever read ... but it didn't strike me as funny per se ...

in closing ... i will share what i thought was one of the funniest passages contained in the book ...

Whenever he said something that nobody but he could understand, I replied with something which I could not even understand myself. "I don't fancy," he said, "that you could have worked out the principle that evolution is only negation, since there inheres in it the introduction of lacunae, which are an essential of differentiation." I replied quite scornfully, "You read all that up in Pinckwerts; the notion that involution functioned eugenically was exposed long ago by Glumpe." It is unnecessary for me to say that there were never such people as Pinckwerts and Glumpe. But the people all round (rather to my surprise) seemed to remember them quite well, and the Professor, finding that the learned and mysterious method left him rather at the mercy of an enemy slightly deficient in scruples, fell back upon a more popular form of it. "I see," he sneered, "you prevail like the false pig in Aesop." "And you fail," I answered, smiling, "like the hedgehog in Montaigne. Need I say that there is no hedgehog in Montaigne? "Your clap-trap comes off," he said, "so would like your beard." I had no intelligent answer to this, which was quite true and rather witty. But I laughed heartily, answered, "Like the Pantheist's boots," at random, and turned on my heel with the honours of victory.