A few months ago I read an anthropology book in which the author took the position that because there are particulars (particular religions, particular moral codes), we are justified in believing this means we have imagined all universals (God, good and evil). God does not exist and all of these elaborate and competing theologies more or less popped up simultaneously over the planet as we spread across it. From these particulars, we then imagined a universal: an actual Creator behind it all. However, the traffic on that street travels in both directions: if you can start with the particulars and infer there are no universals, you can also start with universals and infer it explains the particulars. One may assume and assert that the particulars have led us to imagine universals but another can just as easily assume and assert that there are very real universals that account for the particulars in the first place. Though he does not express it as such, the argument Chesterton makes in this book is the same argument turned head over heels: the reason there are particulars is because before there ever were particulars, there were universals. Stated in the language of anthropology rather than philosophy: some would contend monotheism was a progression from polytheism, others that polytheism is a degeneration of monotheism.

I think most reasonable people would concede that flint knives and arrowheads by the dump truck load and acreage after acreage of excavation sites might tell us all kinds of things about our ancestors – even what some of their spiritual beliefs might have been - but there is one question they will never be able to answer: whether God exists or not. It is beyond the ken of such artifacts to answer that question. The reason why is simple. That isn't an anthropological question, it's a metaphysical one. As for universals and particulars, smarter people than me have been debating that ever since Plato and Aristotle first put on the gloves.

Nonetheless, I'll fly my flag. The universal preceded the particulars. God does exist.

I didn't enjoy this book as much as I expected to and I suppose that might be part of the problem – I had expectations of it. Since the author is often coupled to C.S. Lewis in classic Christian writing, I came to it expecting the same whittled down precision that typifies Lewis. The writing style is the opposite of that though; voluminous and in some places quite poetic. Not that there is anything wrong with that at all but there is a necessary trade-off: poetry comes at the expense of clarity and clarity comes at the expense of poetry. I wonder if I would have liked it more if I had no expectations of it. I am not sure I would have - it was honestly a chore for me to finish this book.

However, expectations aside, the book does contains some colourful passages. The description of the Punic Wars was particularly evocative. As an aside, the author casually ponders what the world would be like today if Carthage (a city that archaeological discovery confirms routinely practiced child sacrifice) had won the war instead of Rome. My mind instantly wandered off on a tangent: What might the world be like today if that had been the case? Shades of The Man in the High Castle?