There were a bunch of things in Book 2 I would love to talk about at length, but I was especially taken by the language of fathers and kings and sons on pages 45-47. It begins when Milton describes Death as wearing “the likeness of a kingly crown (673). Satan asks Death who he is to stand in his way, saying, “Hell-born, not to contend with spirits of Heav’n!” (687). Death responds, with more language of kingship, and then eventually “the portress of the Hell gate,” Sin, rushes in to ask “O Father, what intends thy hand, she cried,/Against they only son?” (746, 727-728). The language of kingship and fatherhood is a language we associate with God–Satan seems to consider himself the God of the Underworld, but there is nothing “fatherly” about him. He only acquires the title of “Father” once he has literally fathered a child–or really, two children–children whose existence he doesn’t seem to be aware of. It’s also striking that Satan has an “only son”–death is like a perverse Jesus figure, who takes rather than saves. This language also relates to the language that surrounds earthly kingship. Satan seems to feel that he has a right to rule–to be not just God, but to be king as well–because of his birthplace. It’s like a literal version of the divine right of kings. Unlike an earthly monarch who might claim divine right to rule, Satan isn’t placed on the throne by God, but his bloodline is heavenly, and this seems to make him feel like he deserves the crown.
Very good–the presentation here of Satan as a kind of perversion of all kinds of Fathers–familial, kingly, and Godly–seems essential to his role. The idea that he has fathered sin only to make her pregnant with Death also seems to mirror the Trinity–in a strikingly perverse way.
As readers, we can see that the possibility of Satan and his compatriots finding any success against God is nonexistent. They cannot, nor will they be able to, escape or mitigate the condemnation handed down from on high, necessarily the worst possible fate that could befall such “Celestial Virtues” (15). it is interesting, then, to compare how these various characters employ casuistic reasoning to delude others (and themselves) into seeing their condition apart from what it really is. They must deal with two terms of the punishment: the agony of Hell and the impossibility of Heaven. In the cases of Moloch and Belial, they seem able to grasp one, but not the other.
Incensed and seeking retribution, Moloch rightly recognizes that the fallen angles find themselves in a predicament that could not be more painful: “What can be worse,” he says, “Than to dwell here driv’n out from bliss, condemned / In this abhorred deep… without hope of end…?” (85-89). The torturous pain of that punishment, however, leads to the misconception that some victory can be had against God, even in the form of revenge. He dreams of injuring God with “His own invented torments” (69), an idea more closely resembling bitter fantasy than actual possibility. Under the surface, though, we see tones of complete despair, which come to a head when Moloch states that God might “reduce / To nothing this essential, happier far / Than, miserable, to have eternal being?” (97-98).
Belial’s response takes the opposite stance. Admitting both the impossibility of revenge and of the idea that God would “give His enemies their wish and end / Them in His anger whom His anger saves / To punish endless” (157-159), he advises against war. But he errs in doubting that the fate they suffer could be worse. His arguments center on physical punishments, exclaiming that “when [they] lay / Chained on the burning lake? That sure was worse!” (168-169). What he overlooks, though, is that their punishments are more than physical. Ironically, it is the opposite of despair, the false hope that he possesses–the very one by which he suggests that God “in time may much remit / His anger” (210-211)–which constitutes the very punishment he underestimates. His pride leads him to think that he should not despair, that he is forgivable, and that he might earn some respite from his current agony. Such errant optimist can be just as torturous as despair itself.
You are exactly right to invoke casuistry here–the rhetoric of the angels during this debate needs to be closely watched as it presents its values as good and noble, but then subtly perverts them, so that Belial’s plea for peace is actually revealed as a desire for “ignoble ease.” Notice too that this debate is really no debate at all, because Satan’s view is already prevailing…
I was particularly struck by Satan’s episode at Hell’s gates. First of all, I really enjoyed the imagery that Milton uses, particularly when he describes the gates as “Impenetrable, impaled with circling fire/ Yet unconsumed.” (647-648) At the gates he meets a half-woman, half-serpent, a pack of “hell-hounds,” and a dark shadowy shape. It is eventually revealed to Satan that the half-woman, half serpent is actually his daughter, “Sin,” who was born while he was still in heaven. Later, Satan impregnates Sin, who gives birth to the shadowy figure accompanying her, “Death.” In another twisted turn of events, Death rapes Sin, and she gives birth to the hell-hounds that encircle her. From this episode, we learn how Satan creates both Sin and Death. There is A LOT of incest in this scene, and I found that part to be quite disturbing. I believe that it is no coincidence that Sin is half woman, half serpent. Eve was responsible for Adam’s fall, thereby creating original sin. The serpent is representative of Satan, who corrupts Eve. I also found a parallel between Sin and Spenser’s The Faerie Queene. In The Faerie Queene, Error represents sin. She is a grotesque mother that gives birth to foul creatures that encircle her. This is much the same case with Sin and the hell-hounds.
Good! Yes, I think Sin and Death are very closely modeled on Spenser’s Errour and in fact this is the most allegorical moment of the entire poem. It is interesting to think about why sin, death, and Satan are linked in this narcissistic, incestuous bond–presumably as a horrible image of the trinity?
“…as when the sun, new ris’n,/
Looks through the horizontal misty air/
Shorn of his beams or from behind the moon
In dim eclipse disastrous twilight sheds
On half nations and with fear of change
Perplexes monarchs. Darkened so, yet shone/
Above them all th’ archangel…” (1.594-600)
After reading Book One, this passage in particular not only struck me as a very powerful description of Satan and Hell, but also as an exceptional use of light/dark imagery in relation to Heaven in the book of Genesis. Genesis 4 states: “And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness.” Milton, however, uses the rising sun as an entity that strikes fear as it brings about further darkness. Genesis 16 states: “And God made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night.” The moon, representing the “lesser light” is used in Paradise Lost as a tool that brings disastrous twilight, and therefore, again provokes further darkness. The same light that brings goodness to Earth in the Bible, exposes the darkness of life in Milton’s Hell. Satan himself is described as “darkened so”, yet shines above the rest of Hell. How can darkness shine brighter than anything lighter than it?
Another interesting thought lies within the hue of the light/dark imagery. Even though Milton constantly refers to his Hell as dark, the darkness is dimmed. It is the “dim eclipse” and “pale course” (1.786) of the moon that establishes the mood. Is there a similarity between this dimness and Satan’s “faded cheek” (1.602)? Even though Genesis 1-3 doesn’t necessarily account for the brightness of the light, the constant reiteration of the light being good as well as the initiate “Let there be light” in Genesis 3 provides an image of a bright light bursting with energy. But what does the dimness/paleness of the darkness signify in Milton’s creation?
This is excellent, Addison–the construction of good and evil in terms of light, dark, and shading is an important aspect of Milton’s visual construction of these two spaces that he needs to keep separate, and yet somehow seem to overlap because of the imprecision or fundamental slipperiness of the language he uses to distinguish them.
The dichotomy between Heaven and Hell, Satan and God, stood out to me in PL Books 1 and 2. Because we enter this story medias res we don’t get to experience Satan’s rebellion against God. Additionally, we are getting Satan’s side of the story, so it can be difficult to parse out what is true and what facts are being manipulated by Satan and his companion Beezlebub. Without prior knowledge of the Biblical story, we might easily side with Satan, but because we make the assumption that Satan is evil it is much harder to believe what Satan says. Satan was fed up with God’s alleged tyranny, but of course we realize that Satan is acting as a monarch in this new place, and only time will tell if he turns into a tyrant as terrible as the one that Satan claims that God had become. Furthermore, Mammon talks about creating a world that is a mirror image of Heaven. At first, the masses seem to like this idea, because they are still afraid of God and don’t want to invoke his wrath by trying and failing to exact revenge, but Beezlebub and Satan won’t have it. They need to exact revenge. And so the duo cleverly convince – in a Socratic manner similar to that of Belial, by making the worse argument the better – the masses that Mammon’s idea is impossible and that Satan must go to Heaven to initiate the revenge. I will be interested to follow Satan’s role as monarch, and discuss how he mirrors God and where he falls on the monarch-tyrant spectrum.
Very good–the manipulation and perversion of noble goals in these demonic speeches is interesting to watch–especially since it turns out really to be no “debate” at all…Satan does want he has wanted to do all along.
Milton’s description of the fallen angles stood out to me. Milton mentions despite the being injured, the fallen angles “fierce pains not feel” as they rallied with Satan (336). Satan’s influence and leadership among the other fallen angles show a clear separation between them. The fallen angles are similar to humans in the way that Satan is able to influence their actions. Could Milton be suggesting that Satan represents a true, pure evil? Do these fallen angles represent humans? Fallen angles are power driven since they would like to gain power over God. The constant want to gain power is a common problem that humans face as well.
The fallen angles are further humanized when they are given a personal name. The named angles are given a trait that is associated with them. Belial is associated with lust a common sin that many humans face daily (490). By giving fallen angles name and association Satan’s legion becomes more humanized. Could Milton be suggesting the divine and earthly share common qualities?
Good–I do think it’s interesting to think about the fallen angels in terms of our fallen state as readers–Milton is constantly “tempting” us (and I use the word advisedly) to identify with their perspective…
I was struck by a moment towards the end of Book One, when Milton reveals Satan to have “signs of remorse and passion to behold” (605). This adds another dimension to his character: that though he wants to cause harm to heaven, but he still regrets that he is at fault for the “millions of spirits…of Heav’n and from eternal splendors flung/For his revolt” (608-10). He also has “deep scars of thunder…and care/Sat on his faded cheek” (601-2), signifying the suffering faced by his revolt and also “care”, whether for his fellow archangels or his former companions in Heaven is uncertain to me. Perhaps both.
This contrasts starkly with what we read in The Faerie Queen; Spenser’s depictions of our evil characters such as Lucifera, Duessa, or any of the personifications of the Seven Deadly Sins bear no redeeming characteristics. By shaping his characters that way, we have no sympathy for their actions and, in Duessa’s case, rejoice in their downfall. I am intrigued to see how this sympathy for the Devil will continue in later Books, if it does at all.
Good! Yes, Milton creates in Satan something of a _character_–with depth and complexity that we haven’t seen in Spenser. He is certainly not just an allegorical figure. I’ll be interested to hear more about this!
What struck me most about this section is the way that Milton shows the rhetoric Satan uses to ensure the loyalty of the legions of angels that fell with him after the unsuccessful revolt. Milton points out that Satan is the reason for everyone’s fall, and there are “Millions of spirits for his fault amerced/ Of Heaven and from eternal splendors flung/ For his revolt.” (lines 609-611). Satan knows he must distract from his role in the revolt and give them a reason to work for him. He assures them that they will “repossess their native seat” in heaven if they do not give up, and continue working against God. (line 636) He also convinces the others that their freedom is worth living in Hell, saying “Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven!” (line 263). Yet, the other angels are not free, and do not reign. Instead of serving God in Heaven, they now serve Satan in Hell. They still serve as much as they ever did, but now must suffer as they do so. Satan’s words further characterize him as a master manipulator. We know how he later lies and misrepresents to turn others from God, such as with Eve, but here we see that he maintains his reign over his own dominion and soldiers through the same tactics.
Excellent–one of the things Milton most wants us to notice in these opening books, I think, is Satan’s powerful manipulation of rhetoric to give himself what Milton regards as an utterly false preeminence over his equals.
April 9, 2015 at 9:08 am
There were a bunch of things in Book 2 I would love to talk about at length, but I was especially taken by the language of fathers and kings and sons on pages 45-47. It begins when Milton describes Death as wearing “the likeness of a kingly crown (673). Satan asks Death who he is to stand in his way, saying, “Hell-born, not to contend with spirits of Heav’n!” (687). Death responds, with more language of kingship, and then eventually “the portress of the Hell gate,” Sin, rushes in to ask “O Father, what intends thy hand, she cried,/Against they only son?” (746, 727-728). The language of kingship and fatherhood is a language we associate with God–Satan seems to consider himself the God of the Underworld, but there is nothing “fatherly” about him. He only acquires the title of “Father” once he has literally fathered a child–or really, two children–children whose existence he doesn’t seem to be aware of. It’s also striking that Satan has an “only son”–death is like a perverse Jesus figure, who takes rather than saves. This language also relates to the language that surrounds earthly kingship. Satan seems to feel that he has a right to rule–to be not just God, but to be king as well–because of his birthplace. It’s like a literal version of the divine right of kings. Unlike an earthly monarch who might claim divine right to rule, Satan isn’t placed on the throne by God, but his bloodline is heavenly, and this seems to make him feel like he deserves the crown.
April 9, 2015 at 9:17 am
Very good–the presentation here of Satan as a kind of perversion of all kinds of Fathers–familial, kingly, and Godly–seems essential to his role. The idea that he has fathered sin only to make her pregnant with Death also seems to mirror the Trinity–in a strikingly perverse way.
April 9, 2015 at 2:48 am
As readers, we can see that the possibility of Satan and his compatriots finding any success against God is nonexistent. They cannot, nor will they be able to, escape or mitigate the condemnation handed down from on high, necessarily the worst possible fate that could befall such “Celestial Virtues” (15). it is interesting, then, to compare how these various characters employ casuistic reasoning to delude others (and themselves) into seeing their condition apart from what it really is. They must deal with two terms of the punishment: the agony of Hell and the impossibility of Heaven. In the cases of Moloch and Belial, they seem able to grasp one, but not the other.
Incensed and seeking retribution, Moloch rightly recognizes that the fallen angles find themselves in a predicament that could not be more painful: “What can be worse,” he says, “Than to dwell here driv’n out from bliss, condemned / In this abhorred deep… without hope of end…?” (85-89). The torturous pain of that punishment, however, leads to the misconception that some victory can be had against God, even in the form of revenge. He dreams of injuring God with “His own invented torments” (69), an idea more closely resembling bitter fantasy than actual possibility. Under the surface, though, we see tones of complete despair, which come to a head when Moloch states that God might “reduce / To nothing this essential, happier far / Than, miserable, to have eternal being?” (97-98).
Belial’s response takes the opposite stance. Admitting both the impossibility of revenge and of the idea that God would “give His enemies their wish and end / Them in His anger whom His anger saves / To punish endless” (157-159), he advises against war. But he errs in doubting that the fate they suffer could be worse. His arguments center on physical punishments, exclaiming that “when [they] lay / Chained on the burning lake? That sure was worse!” (168-169). What he overlooks, though, is that their punishments are more than physical. Ironically, it is the opposite of despair, the false hope that he possesses–the very one by which he suggests that God “in time may much remit / His anger” (210-211)–which constitutes the very punishment he underestimates. His pride leads him to think that he should not despair, that he is forgivable, and that he might earn some respite from his current agony. Such errant optimist can be just as torturous as despair itself.
April 9, 2015 at 9:15 am
You are exactly right to invoke casuistry here–the rhetoric of the angels during this debate needs to be closely watched as it presents its values as good and noble, but then subtly perverts them, so that Belial’s plea for peace is actually revealed as a desire for “ignoble ease.” Notice too that this debate is really no debate at all, because Satan’s view is already prevailing…
April 9, 2015 at 12:05 am
I was particularly struck by Satan’s episode at Hell’s gates. First of all, I really enjoyed the imagery that Milton uses, particularly when he describes the gates as “Impenetrable, impaled with circling fire/ Yet unconsumed.” (647-648) At the gates he meets a half-woman, half-serpent, a pack of “hell-hounds,” and a dark shadowy shape. It is eventually revealed to Satan that the half-woman, half serpent is actually his daughter, “Sin,” who was born while he was still in heaven. Later, Satan impregnates Sin, who gives birth to the shadowy figure accompanying her, “Death.” In another twisted turn of events, Death rapes Sin, and she gives birth to the hell-hounds that encircle her. From this episode, we learn how Satan creates both Sin and Death. There is A LOT of incest in this scene, and I found that part to be quite disturbing. I believe that it is no coincidence that Sin is half woman, half serpent. Eve was responsible for Adam’s fall, thereby creating original sin. The serpent is representative of Satan, who corrupts Eve. I also found a parallel between Sin and Spenser’s The Faerie Queene. In The Faerie Queene, Error represents sin. She is a grotesque mother that gives birth to foul creatures that encircle her. This is much the same case with Sin and the hell-hounds.
April 9, 2015 at 9:14 am
Good! Yes, I think Sin and Death are very closely modeled on Spenser’s Errour and in fact this is the most allegorical moment of the entire poem. It is interesting to think about why sin, death, and Satan are linked in this narcissistic, incestuous bond–presumably as a horrible image of the trinity?
April 8, 2015 at 10:39 pm
“…as when the sun, new ris’n,/
Looks through the horizontal misty air/
Shorn of his beams or from behind the moon
In dim eclipse disastrous twilight sheds
On half nations and with fear of change
Perplexes monarchs. Darkened so, yet shone/
Above them all th’ archangel…” (1.594-600)
After reading Book One, this passage in particular not only struck me as a very powerful description of Satan and Hell, but also as an exceptional use of light/dark imagery in relation to Heaven in the book of Genesis. Genesis 4 states: “And God saw the light, that it was good: and God divided the light from the darkness.” Milton, however, uses the rising sun as an entity that strikes fear as it brings about further darkness. Genesis 16 states: “And God made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night.” The moon, representing the “lesser light” is used in Paradise Lost as a tool that brings disastrous twilight, and therefore, again provokes further darkness. The same light that brings goodness to Earth in the Bible, exposes the darkness of life in Milton’s Hell. Satan himself is described as “darkened so”, yet shines above the rest of Hell. How can darkness shine brighter than anything lighter than it?
Another interesting thought lies within the hue of the light/dark imagery. Even though Milton constantly refers to his Hell as dark, the darkness is dimmed. It is the “dim eclipse” and “pale course” (1.786) of the moon that establishes the mood. Is there a similarity between this dimness and Satan’s “faded cheek” (1.602)? Even though Genesis 1-3 doesn’t necessarily account for the brightness of the light, the constant reiteration of the light being good as well as the initiate “Let there be light” in Genesis 3 provides an image of a bright light bursting with energy. But what does the dimness/paleness of the darkness signify in Milton’s creation?
April 9, 2015 at 9:12 am
This is excellent, Addison–the construction of good and evil in terms of light, dark, and shading is an important aspect of Milton’s visual construction of these two spaces that he needs to keep separate, and yet somehow seem to overlap because of the imprecision or fundamental slipperiness of the language he uses to distinguish them.
April 8, 2015 at 10:13 pm
The dichotomy between Heaven and Hell, Satan and God, stood out to me in PL Books 1 and 2. Because we enter this story medias res we don’t get to experience Satan’s rebellion against God. Additionally, we are getting Satan’s side of the story, so it can be difficult to parse out what is true and what facts are being manipulated by Satan and his companion Beezlebub. Without prior knowledge of the Biblical story, we might easily side with Satan, but because we make the assumption that Satan is evil it is much harder to believe what Satan says. Satan was fed up with God’s alleged tyranny, but of course we realize that Satan is acting as a monarch in this new place, and only time will tell if he turns into a tyrant as terrible as the one that Satan claims that God had become. Furthermore, Mammon talks about creating a world that is a mirror image of Heaven. At first, the masses seem to like this idea, because they are still afraid of God and don’t want to invoke his wrath by trying and failing to exact revenge, but Beezlebub and Satan won’t have it. They need to exact revenge. And so the duo cleverly convince – in a Socratic manner similar to that of Belial, by making the worse argument the better – the masses that Mammon’s idea is impossible and that Satan must go to Heaven to initiate the revenge. I will be interested to follow Satan’s role as monarch, and discuss how he mirrors God and where he falls on the monarch-tyrant spectrum.
April 9, 2015 at 9:10 am
Very good–the manipulation and perversion of noble goals in these demonic speeches is interesting to watch–especially since it turns out really to be no “debate” at all…Satan does want he has wanted to do all along.
April 7, 2015 at 1:43 am
Milton’s description of the fallen angles stood out to me. Milton mentions despite the being injured, the fallen angles “fierce pains not feel” as they rallied with Satan (336). Satan’s influence and leadership among the other fallen angles show a clear separation between them. The fallen angles are similar to humans in the way that Satan is able to influence their actions. Could Milton be suggesting that Satan represents a true, pure evil? Do these fallen angles represent humans? Fallen angles are power driven since they would like to gain power over God. The constant want to gain power is a common problem that humans face as well.
The fallen angles are further humanized when they are given a personal name. The named angles are given a trait that is associated with them. Belial is associated with lust a common sin that many humans face daily (490). By giving fallen angles name and association Satan’s legion becomes more humanized. Could Milton be suggesting the divine and earthly share common qualities?
April 7, 2015 at 9:24 am
Good–I do think it’s interesting to think about the fallen angels in terms of our fallen state as readers–Milton is constantly “tempting” us (and I use the word advisedly) to identify with their perspective…
April 6, 2015 at 10:59 pm
I was struck by a moment towards the end of Book One, when Milton reveals Satan to have “signs of remorse and passion to behold” (605). This adds another dimension to his character: that though he wants to cause harm to heaven, but he still regrets that he is at fault for the “millions of spirits…of Heav’n and from eternal splendors flung/For his revolt” (608-10). He also has “deep scars of thunder…and care/Sat on his faded cheek” (601-2), signifying the suffering faced by his revolt and also “care”, whether for his fellow archangels or his former companions in Heaven is uncertain to me. Perhaps both.
This contrasts starkly with what we read in The Faerie Queen; Spenser’s depictions of our evil characters such as Lucifera, Duessa, or any of the personifications of the Seven Deadly Sins bear no redeeming characteristics. By shaping his characters that way, we have no sympathy for their actions and, in Duessa’s case, rejoice in their downfall. I am intrigued to see how this sympathy for the Devil will continue in later Books, if it does at all.
April 7, 2015 at 9:23 am
Good! Yes, Milton creates in Satan something of a _character_–with depth and complexity that we haven’t seen in Spenser. He is certainly not just an allegorical figure. I’ll be interested to hear more about this!
April 6, 2015 at 10:42 pm
What struck me most about this section is the way that Milton shows the rhetoric Satan uses to ensure the loyalty of the legions of angels that fell with him after the unsuccessful revolt. Milton points out that Satan is the reason for everyone’s fall, and there are “Millions of spirits for his fault amerced/ Of Heaven and from eternal splendors flung/ For his revolt.” (lines 609-611). Satan knows he must distract from his role in the revolt and give them a reason to work for him. He assures them that they will “repossess their native seat” in heaven if they do not give up, and continue working against God. (line 636) He also convinces the others that their freedom is worth living in Hell, saying “Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven!” (line 263). Yet, the other angels are not free, and do not reign. Instead of serving God in Heaven, they now serve Satan in Hell. They still serve as much as they ever did, but now must suffer as they do so. Satan’s words further characterize him as a master manipulator. We know how he later lies and misrepresents to turn others from God, such as with Eve, but here we see that he maintains his reign over his own dominion and soldiers through the same tactics.
April 7, 2015 at 9:22 am
Excellent–one of the things Milton most wants us to notice in these opening books, I think, is Satan’s powerful manipulation of rhetoric to give himself what Milton regards as an utterly false preeminence over his equals.