FREE ESSAY ON THE LOST OF PARADISE

THE LOST OF PARADISE

Epic Characteristics of Milton's Masterwork, Paradise Lost 
pic Characteristics of Milton's Masterwork Paradise 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). 
Bibliography 
Works Cited Blessington, Francis C. Paradise Lost and the Classical Epic. Boston:
Routledge, 1979. Gregerson, Linda. The Limbs of Truth: Milton's Use of Simile in Paradise
Lost. Milton Studies 14 (1980): 135-52. Gregory, E. R. Three Muses and a Poet: A
Perspective on Milton's Epic Thought. Milton Studies 10 (1977): 35-64. Lewalski, Barbara
Kiefer. Paradise Lost and the Rhetoric of Literary Forms. Princeton: Princeton UP, 1985.
Lewis, C. S. A Preface to Paradise Lost. New York: Oxford UP, 1942 . Milton, John.
Paradise Lost. In John Milton: Complete Poems and Major Prose. Ed. Merritt Y. Hughes.
Indianapolis: Odyssey, 1957. 173-469. Ricks, Christopher. Milton's Grand Style. Oxford:
Clarendon, 1963. Steadman, John M. Epic and Tragic Structure in Paradise Lost. Chicago: U
of Chicago P, 1976. ---. Milton's Epic Characters: Image and Idol. Chapel Hill: U of
North Carolina P, 1968. Stein, Arnold. The Art of Presence: The Poet and Paradise Lost.
Berkeley: U of California P, 1977. Thrall, William Flint, and Addison Hibbard. A Handbook
to Literature. Rev. by C. Hugh Holman. New York: Odyssey, 1960. Tillyard, E. M. W.
Studies in Milton. New York: Barnes and Noble, 1951. Whaler, James. Animal Simile in
Paradise Lost. PMLA 47 (1931): 534-53.