Fluttered Into Rags
It strikes me as strange, the unappealing nature of God as presented in Book III. I found myself skimming the heavenly dialogue, scraps of Milton's text mingling with half-remembered scriptures to form a dull, moth-eaten script of boring. In these moments I recall Blake's assertion that Milton must have been a Satanist at heart, a fiendish sympathizer on the page if not in his conscious life. Though I ultimately must disagree, I appreciate the sentiment, for I also find Satan & co. much more engaging characters than any of the heavenly host.
Perhaps, I wonder, if this is due to the seeming lack of action in heaven. While hell is filled with constant movement, and Satan is journeying through the depths of Night over the continuously transforming and warring elements, God sees. He is an eye, a spectator seemingly removed from the pulse of life. Perhaps instead of reifying the opposition constructed between sight/action, mind/body, however, this opens up a space for us consider that sight is itself an exercise of power--the all-piercing gaze of the Almighty is, in fact, one of his primary characteristics, and it also appears the most frightening. For his thunderbolts can harm and his arms can throw down into oblivion, but his eyes can know. (As this is not a very developed thought, I shall end it here and return to it throughout the course of the semester.)
I am also curious about the role of the narrator in Book III. I read with great pity his description of being surrounded by "cloud instead, and ever-during dark" (III.45) even in the presence of brilliant light. However, we remember that God is also perpetually surrounded by darkening cloud in Book II, and though "the book of knowledge fair / Presented with a universal blank / Of nature's works to me expunged and razed, / And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out (III.47-50), we read his call for inward eyes to be "plant[ed]" (53), God-like eyes that can see things "invisible to mortal sight" (55). The boundaries separating narrator from the divine influence have become, for me, extremely blurry.
However, we also read in the opening of Book III that the narrator considers himself as having "[e]scaped the Stygian pool, though long detained / In that obscure sojourn" (14-15). Here, we can make a connection between the state/fate of the fallen angels and that of the narrator. The demons were chained to the burning pool, though they were eventually able to escape through Satan's animating voice--the narrator seems to claim a similar experience, as if he took part in their punishment and liberation (as well as Satan's long journey from hell to earth) in the process of merely documenting it or guiding readers through these occurrences. Does the narrator resemble both God and Satan, then? Or one more so than the other, and if that one is Satan (having seemingly experienced his punishment and acted as his travel companion), how should we approach his recitation/reliving of the events? What are the differences between God's sight and the narrator's?
Ah, more questions than answers. Perhaps Blake was right--it would certainly make things less complex (but then, not nearly as fun).
Perhaps, I wonder, if this is due to the seeming lack of action in heaven. While hell is filled with constant movement, and Satan is journeying through the depths of Night over the continuously transforming and warring elements, God sees. He is an eye, a spectator seemingly removed from the pulse of life. Perhaps instead of reifying the opposition constructed between sight/action, mind/body, however, this opens up a space for us consider that sight is itself an exercise of power--the all-piercing gaze of the Almighty is, in fact, one of his primary characteristics, and it also appears the most frightening. For his thunderbolts can harm and his arms can throw down into oblivion, but his eyes can know. (As this is not a very developed thought, I shall end it here and return to it throughout the course of the semester.)
I am also curious about the role of the narrator in Book III. I read with great pity his description of being surrounded by "cloud instead, and ever-during dark" (III.45) even in the presence of brilliant light. However, we remember that God is also perpetually surrounded by darkening cloud in Book II, and though "the book of knowledge fair / Presented with a universal blank / Of nature's works to me expunged and razed, / And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out (III.47-50), we read his call for inward eyes to be "plant[ed]" (53), God-like eyes that can see things "invisible to mortal sight" (55). The boundaries separating narrator from the divine influence have become, for me, extremely blurry.
However, we also read in the opening of Book III that the narrator considers himself as having "[e]scaped the Stygian pool, though long detained / In that obscure sojourn" (14-15). Here, we can make a connection between the state/fate of the fallen angels and that of the narrator. The demons were chained to the burning pool, though they were eventually able to escape through Satan's animating voice--the narrator seems to claim a similar experience, as if he took part in their punishment and liberation (as well as Satan's long journey from hell to earth) in the process of merely documenting it or guiding readers through these occurrences. Does the narrator resemble both God and Satan, then? Or one more so than the other, and if that one is Satan (having seemingly experienced his punishment and acted as his travel companion), how should we approach his recitation/reliving of the events? What are the differences between God's sight and the narrator's?
Ah, more questions than answers. Perhaps Blake was right--it would certainly make things less complex (but then, not nearly as fun).
posted by alh at 10:26 AM
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