Active within Beyond the Sense of Brute

As our class discussion will include the latter part of Book VIII, I thought I would return to the Book in this entry. For at its end, Book VIII explores some interesting and rather confusing--at least, for me--scenes concerning the relationship between Adam and Eve. As touched on in Tuesday's meeting, Adam proclaims to Raphael that Eve, despite being his known inferior, appears to him as the wisest, more fairest creature on earth: "For well I understand," Adam proclaims,"in the prime end / Of Nature her th' inferior, in the mind / And inward faculties, which most excel, / In outward also her resembling less / His image who made both, and less expressing / The character of that dominion giv'n / O'er other creatures" (540-546), he thinks she is pretty great. What I find most intriguing about his estimation of his partner is that he not only deems her less like the image of God than himself, but he also connects this outward appearance with lordly dominion. As God, we are repeatedly told throughout the poem, has no physical frame--he is not restricted within fleshly boundaries or shapes--how, I wonder, does Adam so authoritatively speak of the unknown image of God?

It is a question that seems to beget yet more questions. For if Adam is God's image (which is, I think, impossible), why isn't Eve, as well? If one chooses to argue that Eve is the image of Adam, and we are defining image as something akin to replica or fairly accurate reflection, why is she so apparently different in frame and character than her believed source, Adam, when Adam is cast in the same mold as his creator? Another justification for this specious hierarchy is that, while created superior and inferior in shape, their spirits are both God-like. This, however, is also disputed within Milton's text, as Adam tells us that Eve is also internally inferior. But again, how is this possible, as she is either the image of God or of Adam, who is also the image of God? And why, I continue wonder, is quasi-divine power, that of dominion and rule, located within corporeality?

Though the logic of their relationship is severely problematic, Raphael guards against its examination by advising Adam to give his love, though "[n]ot thy subjection" (570), to Eve. It is here that we can see, even in seventeenth-century work, the constructed nature of gender--a means of control through the rather arbitrary creation and maintenance of ridiculous binaries. For when Raphael tells Adam that his superiority is clearly evident, and that all he need do in order to see it is to "weigh with her thyself; / Then value: ofttimes nothing profits more / Than self-esteem, grounded on just and right /Well managed" (570-573), readers are made aware of how gender and power are taught by outside influences rather than springing naturally from within. For what is the standard by which Adam will weigh Eve against himself? If it is God, he has no physical body, and there is no one else. Moreover, the self-esteem Raphael encourages by this weighing is not only preposterous (as it is impossible for the aforementioned reason), but also rather disturbing in its malicious competitiveness. So what Raphael has taught Adam is that masculinity is more valued because, well, Raphael says so, and that love is founded on and tempered by competitive division.

And this is Paradise.