nly becomes a thicket of symbols and references that are encyclopedic and resistant to easy interpretation.
Ironically, one of the results of the multitude of symbols is that the chapter can be seen as espousing a pantheist view. This is inconceivable given that this novel and Chesterton's great work of Catholic apologetics, Orthodoxy, were both published in 1908. In fact, Chesterton had written The Ball and The Cross, another examination of Catholic issues couched in fictional form, before he had written either of them.
Therefore, the reader is forced to ask: What exactly is Chesterton's point? Is he expressing an orthodox position regarding the nature of good and evil, and doing so in a vague fashion? Is he making a Unitarian case? Was he unable to resolve the problems he had set for himself? Was he merely looking for an expedient way to end the story? Or, as facile an explanation as it might be, is it possible that there is no simple answer, and that Chesterton himself was unsure of the novel's philosophical conclusions? Given Chesterton's command of language and his deeply rooted beliefs, a critic must be highly circumspect before accusing Chesterton of either literary or theological imprecision. Still, the confusing and contradictory substance of the conclusion leads one to the inescapable statement that either Chesterton did not know what he wanted to say, or he knew and was, unhappily, unclear about it.
The novel's end might indeed totally defy authoritative interpretation, and the reason behind this assertion is that Chesterton is exploring a question in the novel that does not lend itself to a conclusive answer. He was notoriously fond of the Book of Job, and like the Book of Job, this novel is a meditation on the nature of evil. It examines the philosophical question regarding the existence of evil and the omnipotence of God. If God is all powerful, so the question goes, then why is there evil? Either God is not ...