Paradise Lost is an epic - poem based on the Biblical story of Adam end Eve. It
attempts to justify and explain how we came to be what we are today. The central
question to Paradise Lost is " where does evil comes from?" Throughout
the poem we receive information about the origin of evil. At the beginning of
John Milton's work we are given the Biblical explanation, of Adam and Eve eating
from the tree of knowledge and being expelled from the Garden of Eden. This was
man's first disobedience, which brought him mortality, and at the same time this
first act gave source to all evil. This was the effect of ambition. Adam end Eve
both ate the apple from the tree in order to achieve a level of knowledge
compatible to God's. The same way according to Paradise Lost, Satan is also
known to be the source of evil. Satan was sent to Hell as cause of ambition. For
the second time ambition and the desire to become more powerful or
knowledgeable, was the basis of evil. Satan challenged God, and was condemned to
evil. "The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a Heaven of Hell,
a Hell of Heaven". Hell is clearly a state of mind. According to the
non-physical aspects of Hell described at the end of the poem, one can conclude
even from the quote mentioned above, that Hell is what we think of it to be. Can
the human exploration for answers, ambition for knowledge, and curiosity reach a
level that then threatens humans themselves? The answer to this question is YES!
If we examine subjects such as human cloning, nuclear weapons and medicine there
may be different responses. My personal feeling is that anything that alters, or
changes life itself, in exception to medicine, is not to be studied nor
developed. We humans are curious, and this is simply innate. We will continue to
ask questions and explore even outside of our world. I believe we humans, do not
have the power to create nor destroy life, by any other means than normal sexual
creation and accidental death. I feel medicines are a positive element and part
of our lives because medicine does not threaten the lives of others, unlike
nuclear weapons and cloning. Furthermore medicines ameliorate our lifestyles.
Does nuclear destruction and radiation do the same? aradise Lost is one of the
finest examples of the epic tradition in all of literature. In composing this
extraordinary work, John Milton was, for the most part, following in the manner
of epic poets of past centuries: Barbara Lewalski notes that Paradise Lost is an
"epic whose closest structural affinities are to Virgil's Aeneid . . .
"; she continues, however, to state that we now recognize as well the
influence of epic traditions and the presence of epic features other than
Virgilian. Among the poem's Homeric elements are its Iliadic subject, the death
and woe resulting from an act of disobedience; the portrayal of Satan as an
Archillean hero motivated by a sense of injured merit and also as an Odyssean
hero of wiles and craft; the description of Satan's perilous Odyssey to find a
new homeland; and the battle scenes in heaven. . . . The poem also incorporates
a Hesiodic gigantomachy; numerous Ovidian metamorphoses; an Ariostan Paradise of
Fools; [and] Spenserian allegorical figures (Sin and Death) . . . . (3) There
were changes, however, as John M. Steadman makes clear: The regularity with
which Milton frequently conforms to principles of epic structure make his
occasional (but nevertheless fundamental) variations on the epic tradition all
the more striking by contrast. The most important departures from epic
decorum--the rejection of a martial theme, and the choice of an argument that
emphasizes the hero's transgression and defeat instead of celebrating his
virtues and triumphs--are paradoxically conditioned by concern for the ethical
and religious decorum of the epic genre. On the whole, Milton has retained the
formal motifs and devices of the heroic poem but has invested them with
Christian matter and meaning. In this sense his epic is . . . something of a
"pseudomorph"--retaining the form of classical epic but replacing its
values and contents with Judeo-Christian correlatives. (Epic and Tragic
Structure . . . 20) Steadman goes on to defend Milton's changes in the form of
the epic, saying that "such revaluations are not unusual in the epic
tradition; they were in fact inevitable" (20). It is important, before
continuing with an examination of Paradise Lost and its epic characteristics and
conventions (specifically, those in Book I), to review for a moment exactly what
an "epic" is. Again, according to Lewalski, "Renaissance critics
generally thought of epics as long poems treating heroic actions or other
weighty matters in a high style, thereby evoking awe or wonder" (12).
Today's definition does not differ; the following summary of characteristics and
conventions of the epic is taken from Thrall and Hibbard's A Handbook to
Literature, wherein they write that an epic is "a long narrative POEM in
elevated STYLE presenting characters of high position in a series of adventures
which form an organic whole through their relation to a central figure of heroic
proportions and through their development of EPISODES important to the history
of a nation or race." Common characteristics include The hero is a figure
of heroic stature, of national or international importance, and of great
historical or legendary significance; (2) The setting is vast in scope, covering
great nations, the world, or the universe; (3) The action consists of deeds of
great valor or requiring superhuman courage; (4) Supernatural forces--gods,
angels, demons--interest themselves in the action and intervene from time to
time; (5) a STYLE of sustained elevation and grand simplicity is used; and (6)
the epic poet recounts the deeds of his heroes with objectivity. (174-76) There
are also a number of common devices or CONVENTIONS used by most epic poets:
". . . the poet opens by stating his theme, invokes a Muse to inspire and
instruct him, and opens his narrative 'in medias res'--in the middle of
things--giving the necessary EXPOSITION in later portions of the epic; he
includes catalogues of warriors, ships, armies; he gives extended formal
speeches by the main characters; and he makes frequent use of the EPIC
SIMILE" (176). The epic simile is "an elaborated comparison. This type
differs from an ordinary SIMILE in that it is more involved, more ornate, and is
a conscious imitation of the Homeric manner. The secondary object or picture is
developed into an independent aesthetic object, an IMAGE which for the moment
excludes the primary object with which it is compared" (176). With this as
background, it is now possible to trace the epic elements present in Book I of
Paradise Lost rather easily. That all of those six characteristics noted above
are present and demonstrable is certain; it is equally certain that it is
through the manipulation of some of these epic characteristics and conventions
that Milton offers to the reader a number of the most controversial and
interesting questions and situations in the poem. One of the most formidable
problems that the reader must face is that of hero; exactly who is the epic hero
in the poem? Steadman notes that for many readers, Milton's devil is a much
stronger character than his God, and his image of Hell far more forceful than
his picture of Heaven. From such subjective impressions as these they infer
(wrongly) that the Hell-scenes must be more 'sincere' than the descriptions of
Heaven. They conclude, with Dryden, that Satan must be the real 'hero' of
Paradise Lost (Milton's 27); it is not to Satan, clearly, notes Steadman, that
the mantle of hero falls; "in the language of Renaissance criticism,
Adam--the central figure in the poem--is clearly the 'epic person' or 'primary
hero'" (viii). Going a step further, Steadman also remarks that, "in
supplying Satan with many of the conventional attributes of the epic hero,
Milton indirectly censures the epic tradition for celebrating vice as heroic
virtue. . . . Milton relies on a 'reductio ad absurdum' to discredit a spurious
conception of heroism" (39). Francis C. Blessington adds an interesting
note to the discussion when she calls Satan not a classical hero but a classical
villain: Satan is made the archetype of the sophistical rhetoric, the shallow
egotism, and the destructive pride, the vices of the classical epic as well as
of the classical world. In addition, he is the perversion of classical heroic
virtues. He often begins by resembling a victim, sometimes even a perversion of
that . . . . [He is] not a classical hero but a classical villain who
unheroically defeats creatures far below him in stature. (18) Steadman would
concur: In the course of Milton's epic his fallen archangel conceives and
executes an enterprise of conquest and destruction closely resembling that of
the conventional epic hero. Nevertheless, for a seventeenth-century Protestant,
this apparently heroic exploit should have fitted into a familiar ethical
category, a pattern already delineated and condemned by theologians in their
discussions of pagan virtue. Besides preoccupying Luther and Calvin, this
subject had also engaged Paolo Sarpi and Richard Humfrey. These authors had
advanced the following charges against the ancient Gentiles: In their deeds of
valor and virtuous acts, they sought their own glory instead of God's. However
heroic such works might appear, they were performed for a bad end and were
therefore sinful. The ancient Gentiles were only superficially virtuous, for
they lacked inward sanctity. They sought their reward on earth rather than in
Heaven, pursuing worldly renown rather than celestial glory. Their religion
tended to fill man with pride by persuading him that he was naturally virtuous.
Their teachings incited him to revenge rather than to patience. (Milton's . . .
211-12) That Milton wanted his readers to be forced to face the problem of Satan
seeming heroic is certain. Satan is, after all, an angel. He was a mighty angel
in Heaven. In order for us to see the power of God, it is necessary that Satan
also be powerful. It is important that Satan, a parody of God, be viewed as an
eloquent, bold being, one possessing superhuman strength, extraordinary martial
prowess, fortitude, and other attributes--otherwise, what message is there to
us? But Milton would also expect his readers to perceive fact from fancy; he
would expect us to see through Satan's seeming greatness to his core of evil and
pride and petty acts of revenge. That is, after all, part of the test. If we
perceive Satan's real villainy, we indeed show ourselves sufficient. The next
three characteristics of the epic listed above are hardly items of debate. The
setting is indeed vast in scope, ranging from Heaven to Hell and to the Earth.
The action surely consists of deeds of great valour requiring superhuman
courage. And there are supernatural forces (gods, angels, and demons) at work
throughout the poem. One question may occur in regard to the second of these: is
it valour and courage that Satan and his followers showed in fighting the War in
Heaven with God? Of course, we may have a bit of trouble thinking of Satan as
showing courage and valour. But it may be the words themselves and modern
connotations connected with them that cause the difficulty. When examined more
closely, there seems to be little difficulty. According to the Oxford English
Dictionary, valour means "the quality of mind which enables a person to
face danger with boldness or firmness; courage or bravery, especially as shown
in warfare or conflict"; courage is defined as "that quality of mind
which shows itself in facing danger without fear or shrinking." Satan most
certainly may be said to fit these descriptions. The OED provides an even more
appropriate and interesting definition of courage dating from the 14th to the
17th centuries, one in which courage meant "anger, wrath; haughtiness,
pride . . . ." Another of the characteristics of the epic, the use of an
elevated style, may also surely be acknowledged in Paradise Lost: . . . Milton .
. . needed a style that could at once invoke and revamp the classical tradition.
I shall not discuss the controversies over Milton's 'Latinate' style but only
point out some things that have not been said but which help to give the
impression of a classical style in Paradise Lost. Milton's method of elevating
the language is the common one suggested by Aristotle: vary, within reason, the
mode of normal speech by using unfamiliar words, figures, unusual forms and
spellings, and, most of all, metaphors. (Blessington 78) There were (and are)
those, of course, such as William Empson, Cleanth Brooks, T. S. Eliot, and
others, who censured Milton's style. To them, Christopher Ricks responded with
the following: That his [Milton's] style astonishes is itself some cause of
surprise. The epic is of all literary kind the most dignified, the most
concerned to fulfil expectation rather than to baffle or ignore it. . . . [H]e
must combine two fervours: a heroic dedication to tradition; and a heroic
dedication to himself, a confidence in his own greatness which will prevent his
suffocating under the weight of a great tradition. (22-23) Surely it was
necessary for Milton to approach his work with a great sense of decorum, both
out of respect for its epic tradition and our of respect for its grand subject.
The final characteristic of the traditional epic noted above is the objectivity
of the poet. In Milton's case, one would be hard pressed to argue that he was
able to maintain that stance, though William G. Riggs tries: It should be clear
that for Milton it is the poet's submission to the voice of his muse, to divine
inspiration, which ultimately distinguishes the soaring creation of Paradise
Lost from an act of blasphemous pride. Milton does not, however, present the
invocation of a heavenly muse as his only defense against presuming too much.
Through the narrative he remains sensitive to the relationship between himself
as poet and his subject; he examines every implication of his creative act with
a care which suggests a fear of self-delusion. While he insists on the pious
intentions of what he undertakes, he never neglects to expose the satanic aspect
of his poetic posture. (63-64) E. M. W. Tillyard has a much different reaction
to the poet in Paradise Lost. In remarking on emotion in Milton's poetry,
Tillyard comments, regarding Raphael's speeches, this is indeed angelic speech,
and through it Milton conveys without strain or reservation his entire belief in
the unity of creation and the informing power of God that both makes and
preserves it. . . . Whatever we may think about Milton's direct descriptions of
God, he does when writing of God's works make us feel, as no other English poet
could, their glorious diversity, their order, their dependence on their creator
who made and fosters them by the constant pressure of his inexhaustible power.
(142-44) Surely this is not a description of a detached, objective poet. Arnold
Stein is perhaps even more forceful in his comments regarding the poet in the
poem: The poet we may see in the poem at this point is the figure of himself
Milton could hardly have concealed had he wished to: that of the author whose
representation includes his judgment. . . . The figure of the poet does not
obtrude but still is present substantially, answerable to the literary and
philosophical questions addressed first to the dramatized character who speaks,
and through him to the 'living intellect' who creates and guides. . . .
Throughout we know that behind the narrator there is a man with a personal
history, which also enters the poem. (138-39) C. S. Lewis puts it another way: .
. . every poem has two parents--its mother being the mass of experience,
thought, and the like, inside the poet, and its father the pre-existing Form
(epic, tragedy, the novel, or what not) which he meets in the public world. . .
. The matter inside the poet wants the Form: in submitting to the Form it
becomes really original, really the origin of great work. (3) In addition to the
epic characteristics of Paradise Lost, the so-called epic conventions outlined
earlier are also present. Certainly Milton begins by stating his theme: the
entire story of salvation is summarized in the opening twenty-six lines, and the
purpose of the epic, to "justify the ways of God to men," is stated in
line twenty-six. (All references to the poem itself are from Merritt Y. Hughes'
edition of the complete works.) Milton also opens his narrative "in medias
res"; he begins by asking how Adam and Eve could have fallen. Who could
have caused it? And then we meet an already fallen Satan; it is only in Book VI
that the War in Heaven is actually described. Milton also invokes a Muse (lines
1-26) to inspire and instruct him, as was traditional. E. R. Gregory, in his
article on the use of the muses in Paradise Lost, discusses the use of Clio as
muse and the pairing of Clio and Urania. He includes an examination of
associated iconography of the muses in the history of epic poetry. Other of the
conventions are likewise present. Milton carefully includes a catalogue of the
fallen angels (lines 376-505). He also provides extended formal speeches by the
main characters: see, for example, lines 84-124, 157-91, 242-70, and 622-62 for
major speeches by Satan in Book I. It is on the basis of the eloquence and power
of those speeches that much of the claim for Satan's position as 'hero' is
based. Finally, Milton makes frequent use of the epic simile. Four major
examples are of interest in Book I; they include the simile of the sea monster
(lines 192+), the autumnal leaves (lines 300+), the son/sun (lines 594+), and
the swarming bees (lines 768+). Linda Gregerson points out that "the
Miltonic similes portray knowledge as problematic; they do not suggest we throw
away the tools we have and wait for grace as for rain" (137). She
continues, saying that the similes do a number of tasks: they "convey real
information about the tenor, or locate it in an experiential realm"; they
do this by "stimulating the sensual memory," perhaps inducing "in
the reader an experience which characterizes the subject, " she adds (138).
They also may, she notes, "be proleptic. . . . They often prefigure
subsequent events in the story. Thus Satan is compared to Leviathan . . ."
(139). The similes, she continues, "put is in training of a sort, give us
sometimes a running start and sometimes the edge of the cliff . . ." (140);
they "focus attention upon the act of perception itself and make us aware
that we are not looking alone . . ." (142), that "we read in the
company of those who have read before" (147). James Whaler, in an oft
referenced article regarding the use of animal similes in Paradise Lost, notes
that: From Homer on, certain images have been part of the epic poet's
inheritance and equipment. Not only has he felt obliged to introduce them
somewhere into his work, but to distribute them in the very proportion observed
by his predecessors. Beasts, plants, any phenomena used in previous epic simile
belonged to him, too, if he could make them at home in a new context. Of course
he was free to originate novel images from contemporary events or his own
personal experience; but Homer's high precedent, or Vergil's, prescribed the old
images as well. Milton's choice of imagery, however, is distinguished from that
of other important epic poets of Western Europe by an iron control over, a
virtual renunciation of, animal similes. (534) Whaler comments that Milton
"selects an animal image only when the perfect opportunity appears"
(545), that Milton "must have felt they had had their day" (538).
Whaler goes on to examine, after a lengthy discussion of other epic animal
similes, Milton's rare use of such similes, specifically that of the swarming
bees: First, Milton's bees direct our mind's eye to winged creatures of the very
size that the spirits . . . are to become. Secondly, they make us contemplate in
advance diminutive creatures which, despite their tininess, we have always liked
to imagine do expatiate and confer their state-affairs, -- exactly what the
infernal assembly is going to do. (551) As Gregerson had noted, the simile
"prefigures" and/or is a reflection of other events that are to come
later in the story. Clearly, then, and in spite of some alterations and
modifications, Milton did indeed use classical epic conventions. As Blessington
so artfully writes, "Milton built his epic out of those of Homer and
Virgil, like a cathedral erected our of the ruins of pagan temples whose remains
can still be seen" (xiii).

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