I have been greatly heartened by some fulsome praise for my latest book from the very heart of Belloc country, i.e. Sussex in England. I hope that visitors to the Ink Desk will permit me the self-indulgence of sharing it:

At last! My copy of Beauteous Truth arrived today. I seized it from the postman, took it off to a corner, like a dog with a particularly juicy bone, and devoured it in one sitting, growling ferociously at every interruption. I shall now spend the next week or so re-reading it before finding it a permanent place on my shelves, next to Literary Converts and Literary Giants, Literary Catholics.
What a pleasure it is to read someone who cares for truth and not for cultural fads and fashions! Your excoriations of postmodern ‘kulchur’ reminded me of a line from (I think) Wyndham Lewis’s One-Way Song (Chesterton-like, I quote from memory so the words may not be exact):- ‘Ours is a little age, when the blind pygmy treads in hypnotized crusades against all splendor’. Quite. But, for precisely that reason, it is good to be reminded of the splendor, and, time and again, your essays did just that. Belloc and Baring, Chesterton and Dawson, Lewis and Tolkien, Greene and Solzhenitsyn, sprang vividly to life from your pages. Criticism was both fair-minded and robust, as criticism should be: a welcome change from the mealy-mouthed platitudes and anodyne observations that so often pass for criticism these days.
Anyway, I couldn’t resist writing to thank you for these splendid essays, and to second Cardinal Burke’s hope that we may look forward to further volumes of essays in future. In the meantime, I intend to recommend this volume to all my friends. I shall be meeting some of them in a Sussex pub next week, so we’ll drink your health in a pint (or three) of Harvey’s!