Vagary and Brilliance

I can't exactly remember last night's dream because I took a shower, did some laundry, and edited Mary's social studies test this morning--just too much activity. But I do remember it had something to do with my being a politician--watching these presidential debates has really screwed with my head. Incidentally, I thought Kerry probably did better in all three debates, while Cheney pretty clearly cleaned Edwards' clock in the veep debate. My primary criteria are apparent preparation and who caught whom most visibly in distorting things. Bush was caught in whoppers at least once per debate, while Cheney had statistics in his evil bald head that made Edwards' party-line statements seem entirely unconnected with reality. Fun to watch all around.

I'm up to book five in Paradise Lost, and I think that Satan's book four speech has to be the best piece of tragic writing in English. Nothing in Lear or Hamlet measures up, not even to speak of anything in Marlowe's plays. I think Satan is the ultimate Aristotelian tragic hero, his flaws clearly named and operative as the narrative unfolds. Nobody is born higher than Satan who falls; nobody sinks into such a low state. In previous readings, I took "Evil, be thou my good" to be some kind of bold Promethean stand. This time, taking more careful note of the speech's direction up to that point, I realize that it's a resignation, a realization that God is gracious enough that he could resume his service as Lucifer at any time. Satan realizes in that proufoundest of speeches that not only did he choose to become Satan before he was expelled but that every moment for the rest of time, he is going to continue to choose to be Satan. Nowhere else can I think of a character whose singular vice is so deliberately chosen and thus so singularly torturous. Also, the book four speech throws into absurdity all the tough talk in the Hellish council from book two; Moloch's violent overthrow would never work, and as long as their disposition is towards rebellion, they continue to be their own Hells. Belial counsels sloth while never addressing the chosen character of their Hellish imprisonment. Mammon takes it a step further, pretending that their Hell is some kind of neutral place that can be made good of or bad.

Satan's book four speech breaks through all of that; his exposure to the beauty of earth brings out of him the most honest moment he has in the epic, a clear-sighted confession and perhaps even some contrition, but never repentance. It also qualifies some people's easy claim that "we've all got Satan within us." Perhaps, but the intensity and the degree of Satan's fall has none of Hannah Arendt's banality; this is the most rarefied rebellion against the divine possible, and it leads places that human rejection simply cannot lead. I'm salivating over book five even as we speak. I think I'll go read a while.