If we were to construct a “Mount Rushmore” of the literary geniuses that western civilization has given us, there would of course be much debate as to which faces we would carve. The first face would be very easy to choose: the fountainhead of western literature (other than the Scripture), Greece’s blind poet Homer. The fourth would also be very easy: the Bard, William Shakespeare. Who goes in between? Just as many may debate Jefferson or Roosevelt on the side of a mountain in South Dakota, so many will debate who stands between Homer and Shakespeare. Due to their decisive impact on the artistic heritage of western civilization, I put two great poets in that slot, narrowly edging out Virgil: Dante Alighieri and the subject of this review, John Milton.
John Milton was an English poet who lived during the era of England’s Civil War, from 1608-1674. He quite consciously set forth to write an epic poem, in the style of Homer and Virgil, written in English to bestow on England what those great poets bestowed on their cultures. Lofty goals, to be sure, and not without a touch of artistic ego, but according to the judgment of history he largely succeeded, most especially because he stood on the shoulders of those giants. The connections only increased when Milton became blind, an affliction that, according to tradition, afflicted Homer.
Though writing an epic for England, he did not write an epic about England (though at one point he had thought to treat King Arthur).Instead, he retold Scripture’s greatest story, in some sense the only story: man’s fall and the promised redemption.
Of man’s first disobedience, and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree whose mortal taste
Brought death into the world, and all our woe
With the loss of Eden, till one greater man
Restore us, and regain the blissful seat,
Sing Heav’nly Muse… (I.1-6)
As with reading many of history’s great epic poems (or Shakespeare, for that matter), the language, both the vocabulary and the poetic structure, provides a challenge for the modern reader. It is helpful to listen to these great poems; a good audiobook will, through the inflections of the human voice, make the poetry much more understandable. On the other hand, I have found that the poetry becomes more clear the more that you read. You develop an ‘ear’ for Milton, Dante, or Shakespeare. It is also helpful to have a guide, and the most illuminating one that I have found to this epic is that of C.S. Lewis, who wrote A Preface to Paradise Lost in 1961.1
Milton himself expands the scope of his epic far beyond the actual fall, which occurs in Book IX. A visit from the Archangel Raphael, bearing a warning against the wiles of Satan, gives opportunity to describe both the war in heaven (V and VI) and the creation of the heavens and the earth (VII). The epic itself begins in hell, at some point after the creation of the world, as Satan and his minions lick their wounds, gathering together in torment to decide on their next course of action (I and II). After the fall, Michael comes to Adam (putting Eve into a deep sleep) and describes to him the sweep of biblical history before escorting him and his wife out of Eden (XI and XII).
As we approach the poem and its characters, our sinful nature reveals itself. Perhaps that was Milton’s plan, the genius of the writer. We plan to patronize Adam and Eve, because that’s what we’ve always done with them. We think of them as children, naïve and, to be honest, simpler than we are. Of course we think that, for we too were in Adam as he ate the forbidden fruit, and we too have believed the lie that knowledge of evil makes us more wise. So we expect Adam and Eve to be simple, immature in a sense. We want to look down on our forebears, but Milton doesn’t allow us. Adam is instead lordly, kingly and majestic, as Lewis puts it, “he is the sum of all human knowledge and wisdom.”2 Perhaps the queenly majesty of Eve is often missed, but that is because modern readers misunderstand and openly reject the virtue of feminine submission and humility. Yes, Eve is deceived and does eat the fruit: yes, Adam joins her in this sin (more on that below), but they are not children. They are royalty.
On the other hand, we find Satan to be the most fascinating of Milton’s characters (just as we find Dante’s Inferno more interesting than his Paradiso). As much as we despise sin and its effects, as much as we renounce the devil with all of his ways, we cannot help but be interested in Satan.3 He is the most well-rounded and three-dimensional of Milton’s characters. He drives the action forward, leading his minions in council as he led them in Heaven’s war, and then proposing to go to earth himself to effect the downfall of God’s perfect creation. Milton even manages to show us some conflict in Satan’s mind. He nearly repents, when he sees the joy of the human couple.
Me miserable! Which way shall I fly
Infinite wrath, and infinite despair?
Which way I fly is Hell; myself am Hell;
And in the lowest deep a lower deep
Still threat’ning to devour me opens wide,
To which the Hell I suffer seems a heaven.
O then at last relent: is there no place
Left for repentance, none for pardon left?
None left but by submission; and that word
Disdain forbids me, and my dread of shame. (IV.73-83)
Of course, we must be careful when examining Satan as a character in Paradise Lost. Milton is quite conscious that Satan is a liar, and so every word must be sifted. But this failure at repentance indicates that even more than a liar, Satan is blind. He rebels against God without any wrong having been done to him (as he himself says in that same speech), and he rages at joy and beauty, not to improve his own lot, but only to pull down others with him. He is a most contemptible creature.
The Father and the Son play relatively minor roles. I say ‘relatively’ because the focus is on Satan and his planned and executed temptation. The Son is Christus Victor in all of his might, summoned to war against Satan and the forces of darkness. The battle is a back and forth affair, and Michael is hard put to it, until the Father sends forth his Son on the third day.
His count’nance too severe to be beheld
And full of wrath bent on his enemies.
Yet half his strength he put not forth, but checked
His thunder in mid volley, for he meant
Not to destroy, but root them out of heaven. (VI.825-826, 853-855)
But there is not only the triumphant, warrior Christ in this poem. Before the fall, the Father declares that grace cannot be expressed without the satisfaction of divine wrath, to which the Son volunteers to bear that burden.
Behold me then, me for him, life for life
I offer, on me let thine anger fall;
Account me man; I for his sake will leave
Thy bosom, and this glory next to thee
Freely put off, and for him lastly die
Well pleased, on me let Death wreck all his rage. (III.236-241)
After the fall, as the Son goes forth to confront the sinful couple, he confirms that intention.
I go to judge
On earth these thy transgressors, but thou know’st,
Whoever judged, the worst on me must light,
When time shall be, for so I undertook
Before thee; and not repenting, this obtain
Of right, that I may mitigate their doom (X.71-76)
Those who criticize Milton’s portrayal of the Father have less of a problem with Milton than with the Bible. He is the divine monarch, omniscient and omnipotent, acting with justice and mercy. If there is any complaint, it is that the fight against evil is not fair, that Satan could never win. Again, those who find fault with Milton are revealing their own preconceptions of God.
Milton of course makes his own theological (and exegetical) choices. If one takes on a retelling of a biblical story, he will have to make such choices. Lewis argues that the theology of Milton is traditional, catholic and Augustinian, and that it is for the most part correct.4 While Milton wrestles with thorny theological issues, his conclusions are generally orthodox. But he is forced to make choices on issues that remain in debate even today. As to the troubling question of where Adam was while Eve was tempted (what does it mean that Adam was ‘with her’?), Milton argues that on the day of the fall, Eve had an impulse, given by Satan himself over the night, to work by herself. Adam himself falls willingly, knowing exactly what he is doing, but not from sinful desire. He instead eats the fruit out of solidarity with his wife. It is worth noting also that when God is walking in the garden and calls to the man, it is not the Father but the Son, and the Son is explicitly the agent of creation.
One of the more fascinating aspects of the poem is its portrayal of the marital union. Milton is quite conscious of those who would deny that Adam and Eve came together as one flesh before the fall, and he gently chides them.
Nor turned I ween
Adam from his fair spouse, nor Eve the rites
Mysterious of connubial love refused:
Whatever hypocrites austerely talk
Of purity and innocence,
Defaming as impure what god declares
Pure, and commands to some, leaves free to all.
Our Maker bids increase, who bids abstain
But our destroyer, foe to God and man? (IV.741-749)
Then Milton rejoices to praise this gift of love from God to man.
Hail wedded love, mysterious law, true source
Of human offspring, sole propriety,
In Paradise of all things common else. (IV.750-752)
Things dramatically and tragically change after the fall, and Milton chooses the sexual act as an illustration of the depravity that has entered into human hearts.
They swam in mirth, and fancy that they feel
Divinity within them breeding wings
Wherewith to scorn the earth: but that false fruit
Far other operation first displayed,
Carnal desire inflaming; he on Eve
Began to cast lascivious eyes, she him
As wantonly repaid; in lust they burn. (IX.1009-1015)
The marital union is no longer pure and beautiful, but corrupted. So thoroughly, in fact, that Eve suggests that to avoid passing on the poison of sin to future generations, they should have no children. This sounds eerily familiar to arguments made in our world against the begetting of children: “Why bring children into this darkened world?” She continues by saying that if they cannot resist the marital union, then they should seek death, so that he only claims two, not innumerable descendants. Adam counters that it is only through the bearing of children that the world will be delivered. He holds firm to Genesis 3:15 (X.966-1040).
By far the most difficult theological question that Milton wrestles with throughout this epic is the problem of evil. Why did God permit the fall to occur? Milton attempts to exonerate God, having the Father send Raphael to warn Adam of the danger. Yet, the Father permits Satan to enter creation; the angels guarding the earth are to let the tempter pass. Milton explains why.
What can ‘scape the eye
Of God all-seeing, or deceive his heart
Omniscient, who in all things wise and just
Hindered not Satan to attempt the mind
Of man, with strength entire, and free will armed,
Complete to have discovered and repulsed
Whatever wiles of foe or seeming friend. (X.5-11)
Thus Milton argues that God, having created man with free will, allowed man to be put to the test, even though there are hints throughout the epic that he knew how the test would end. The warning from Raphael seems to be calculated by Milton to keep God from being culpable in man’s fall. Whether Milton’s argument is found persuasive or not, we must appreciate the challenge of writing an epic poem about an omniscient God, which cannot help but deal with the question of the origin of evil that has occupied theology and philosophy for millennia.
No matter how man attempts to accuse or exonerate God with regard to the fall, the fact remains that God has his answer to the existence of evil: the cross. All who attempt to do evil will find, to their infinite frustration, that this evil is turned to good. This is what Luther meant when he called Satan “God’s devil.” At the end of Michael’s description of the whole sweep of biblical history to come, Adam stands astonished.
O goodness infinite, goodness immense!
That all this good of evil shall produce,
And evil turn to good; more wonderful
Than that which by creation first brought forth
Light out of darkness! Full of doubt I stand,
Whether I should repent me now of sin
By me done and occasioned, or rejoice
Much more, that much more good thereof shall spring. (XII.469-476)
Satan declares in Book I that any good God wants to do through him he intends to pervert to evil (I.164). We reach the end of the story and find that the opposite has happened: the wicked Satan intended has been turned to good. As Lewis puts it, “Those who will not be God’s sons become his tools.”5 The end of the epic is not despair but hope, not Satan’s victory but his ultimate downfall.
Endnotes
1 C. S. Lewis, A Preface to Paradise Lost, (London: Oxford University Press, 1961).
2 Lewis, A Preface, 119.
3 Lewis, A Preface, 100. Lewis argues that Satan is the “best drawn” of Milton’s characters because it is much easier to amplify our sinful characteristics than our praiseworthy ones. The author of the Screwtape Letters should of course know this quite well.
4 Lewis, A Preface, 66–70.
5 Lewis, A Preface, 68.
