ENL 122: Raphael’s Blunder: The Hope of Ascension and the Fall of Man

Jolene Patricia Brown

ENL 122: Milton

24 November 2009

Raphael’s Blunder:
The Hope of Ascension and the Fall of Man

Satan’s temptation of Eve begins long before his captivating her as a talking serpent in the garden in book IX. The dream sequence in which Satan first gives Eve the tantalizing fantasy of humans revered as gods puts the idea of ascension into Eve’s mind, but it is Raphael’s speech that allows that fantasy a hope for reality. Raphael is the first to mention the possibility that God might one day raise man up to join the angels in heaven, and by doing so, leaving room for an ambiguous interpretation of the promise. Adam and Eve are left to wonder whether it must be God only to elevate man higher in the heavenly hierarchy, or if the Tree of Knowledge might bypass that route altogether. Raphael is not explicit in his warning to Adam in the first place, but by sending Eve away, Raphael leaves opportunity for miscommunication—and assuredly ambiguity—of the warning between Adam and Eve. This ambiguity would spell disaster for the earthly pair giving Eve an excuse to taste of the fruit of knowledge, damning the pair to eternal strife.

The dream that Satan inspires in Eve in Book V crescendos just after he promises to Eve that, should she eat the fruit, she would “be henceforth among the gods / thyself a goddess, not to earth confined” (V.77-78). This dream was obviously disturbing to Eve, as she slept with “tresses discomposed, and glowing cheek, / As through unquiet rest” (V. 10-11) as well as her reaction to Adam as she wakes with “startled eye,” to embrace him (V. 26-27). When Raphael tells Adam of the possibility of man’s ascension to Heaven, it must have triggered an immediate memory for Eve when Adam passed the message to her. The similarity of Eve’s evil dream to Raphael’s musings on the potential of man is subtle:

…time may come when men
With angels may participate, and find
No inconvenient diet, nor too light fare:
And from the corporal nutriments perhaps
Your bodies may at last turn all to spirit,
Improved by tract of time, and winged ascend
Ethereal, as we, or may at choice
Here or in heav’nly paradises dwell… (V.493-500)

Perhaps Eve, Adam, or both, wondered that since they might ascend as angels, if there was a possibility they might also ascend as gods. After all, making the jump from man to angel would seem almost impossible from their perspective, especially considering Raphael had already put a distinction between the physical form of man and the physical form of angels. The substance from which each is made is vastly different, man of flesh and angels of ether; even the way man reasons is different from that of angels, man discursively and angels intuitively. With all these differences between man and angel it does not seem possible that one, namely man, would be able to make the switch into the other, and even the purpose for such a switch is odd. If God wanted man to be angels eventually, it would seem he would just create more angels instead of implementing a plan for eventual ascension. With all these unusual questions that Raphael leaves open in posing the opportunity for ascension it is no wonder Adam and Eve become tempted by a quicker rise through the ranks by choosing to eat the apple.

Eve is a curious creature: she wonders about the night and for whom the stars are for; she wonders about God, the hierarchy they are a part of, and her place within it. There is no reason why she would not also be inherently curious about the one forbidden tree in the garden, and though she may not have set out intending to eat of it, it can be argued that she was giving herself time away from her two guardians, God and Adam, to satiate her curious appetite. When Eve decides to venture out on her own to work she convinces Adam by arguing that fear in the garden is unfounded, and even if there were something to fear, God would protect them:

“If this be our condition, thus to dwell
In narrow circuit straitened by a foe…
How are we happy, still in fear of harm?
…Let us not then suspect our happy state
Left so imperfect by the Maker wise,
As not secure to single or combined.
Frail is our happiness, if this be so,
And Eden were no Eden thus exposed.” (IX. 322-323, 326, 337-341)

This is an important decision in the garden because it gives Satan the opportunity to exploit the curiosity in Eve’s mind on his own terms without interference from Adam. Eve’s argument seems well-founded: she would rather not “suspect” their happy state, for true happiness would not be experienced in fear. Her separation at this point, however, seems suspicious as their purpose in the garden is not solely for work, as argued by Adam, and certainly God would not have given Adam a partner in the garden only to mandate they work separate from one another. Her motive at this point is questionable, and one wonders if she was naturally curious about the tree, intending to investigate it whether or not the snake was there to tempt her. She does not realize that God is omniscient at this point either, for after she eats of the fruit she wonders if God might have missed her sin because “Heav’n is high, / high and remote to see from thence distinct / each thing on earth” (IX.811-813).

Eve’s dream turned to reality in book nine as the serpent, in place of Satan, reminds Eve to the hope of godhood. The serpent subtly hints to the promise of the dream: that a bite of the fruit will allow her ascension into a goddess-like status, as it moved the serpent to a man-like status. He begins to worship her as if she were already a goddess, which only heightens the excitement of ascension to come:

Fairest resemblance of they Maker fair,
Thee all things living gaze on, all things thine
By gift, and they celestial beauty adore
With ravishment beheld, there best beheld
Where universally admired; but here
In this enclosure while, these beasts among,
Beholders rude, and shallow to discern
Half what in thee is fair, one man except,
Who sees thee? (and what is one?) who shouldst be seen
A goddess among gods, adored and served
By angels numberless, thy daily train. (Book IX.538-548)

The language the serpent uses is one of seduction with words such as fairest, ravishment, beheld, adored, with which the snake pays tribute to her beauty claiming it is beyond the sphere she currently occupies. Her beauty is “celestial,” and belongs to Heaven, not on the earth where it can be enjoyed by only one man and “rude” animals. There is an echo within these lines as well from her original statement to Adam recalling her dream: “A goddess among gods” which is eerily similar to Book V.77-78 mentioned above. The echo here is important because Satan seems almost hypnotically seducing her by worshipping her, assuring her of beauty, and reminding her of the promise of ascension within her dream. The warnings from God, through Raphael, would only confuse her further, for she would remember that ascension might very well be possible even if it means disobeying the orders of God to attain it.

Raphael gave Adam and Eve the reason to believe that the hierarchy of heaven is fluid, and moving between realms is possible. Unfortunately, he is ambiguous enough in his explanation of this ascension that it leaves room to believe there might be other ways to ascend beyond those offered by God. He only exasperates the problem by excluding Eve from direct communication of the warning, exposing the earthly pair to the blunders of miscommunication between one another. Also, has she been present during this conversation, her curious nature might have forced Raphael to be more direct in his warnings, thereby subverting the possibility for ambiguity altogether. By allowing the curious Eve to imagine a world in which man and woman might attain heavenly bodies closer to God, Raphael gives her a reason to try to fruit to speed up that progress. If Adam and Eve had not thought it possible to change the status of the hierarchy they probably would have reconsidered eating the fruit, wondering if the snake was instead an evil enemy of God’s.

ENL 10A: Samson’s Captivity: A Reawakening of Purpose

Jolene Patricia Brown

ENL 10A: English Lit to 1700

19 November 2009

Samson’s Captivity: A Reawakening of Purpose

Milton explores the captivity of man in Samson Agonistes as more than the jail and slave labor that Samson must endure at the hands of the Philistines. Captivity is the fallen condition of man, Milton argues, as man is born with obstacles that must be overcome before he can reach his full potential as a servant of God, which turns out to be another form of captivity. The example of Samson, from the biblical book of Judges, allows Milton to write make this argument from the perspective of a man who was born with gifts bestowed on no other man by God. This is an important perspective from which to write because if a great man can be held captive by his own imperfection, then all men can. It is only through recognition of man’s potential failings that one can reach their full potential despite their post-lapsarian condition.

Samson is captive to the Philistines because he is chained, and forced to do slave labor. This is his most obvious form of captivity: forced physical labor. Samson is forced to slave for those people he was born to destroy, and by doing so is also forced to consider all his failings: “From restless thoughts, that like a deadly swarm / Of Hornets arm’d… / rush upon me thronging, and present / Times past, what once I was, and what am now” (19-22). For Samson, it is not the physical labor that is the worst part of the slavery. With nothing to do but work, he is forced to consider all his failings by his “restless thoughts” and he dissects his own fall from grace, which makes the physical work a form of “ease” from his thoughts (18). He comes to an important conclusion: that strength, though useful, is not immune to failure unless there is wisdom.

But what is strength without a double share
Of wisdom, vast, unwieldy, burdensome,
Proudly secure, yet liable to fall…
God, when he gave me strength, to shew withal
How slight the gift was, hung it in my hair. (53-55, 58-59)

Even his great gift of strength is a form of captivity for Samson because he did not have the wisdom to guard it properly. God endowed the strength with an inherent weakness by placing it in Samson’s hair thereby rendering Samson strong but not invincible. The captivity, therefore, is Samson’s false sense of security brought on by his lack of wisdom and overabundant strength which he does not realize until it is too late and he is physically captive to the Philistines: “Immeasurable strength they might behold / In me, of wisdom nothing more then mean; / This with the other should, at least, have paird, / These two proportion’d ill drove me transverse” (206-209).

The Philistines have also blinded him, depriving him of the light of the world and the light of God:

O loss of sight, of thee I most complain!
Blind among enemies, O worse then chains…
Light the prime work of God to me is extinct,
And all her various objects of delight
Annull’d, which might in part my grief have eas’d… (67-68, 70-72)

His blindness is a sensual captivity as Samson finds himself not only a slave to those he was intended to slay, but also without the guidance of his sight. It is sight that guides man in his daily life, without which one would wander hopelessly lost; without his sight Samson cannot make his way alone in the world. His blindness also implies he is without his God—another form of sight—as it is God who has, until now, guided Samson through his exploits against the Philistines. The sight that Samson has lost is multi-faceted: it is the physical sight in the world that allows him mobility and success in his battles against his enemies, but also the sight of God who has guided him in those battles. The loss of sight is a double-tragedy because he is deprived of a sensual pleasure and a spiritual pleasure, both of which are unbearable to Samson.

Before his captivity by the Philistines, Samson was captive to his passions as a man by allowing himself to be weakened by the love of a woman who is loyal to his enemy. Samson realizes he had fallen into service to woman, instead of in service to God when he states:

The base degree to which I am now fall’n,
these rags, this grinding, is not yet so base
As was my former servitude, ignoble,
Unmanly, ignominious, infamous,
True slavery, and that blindness worse then this,
That saw not how degenerately I serv’d. (414-419)

Both the physical captivity and the sensual captivity that he faces now in service to the Philistines is, he claims, better than his service to woman he paid before his fall. It is this captivity to woman that is another captivity that Samson is subject to, and another that he does not realize until he is already taken prisoner, betrayed by the woman he loved.

Though he ultimately takes responsibility for his own fall in admitting that “She [Delila] was not the prime cause” (234), he still laments his failing to identify her as a “specious Monster” and his “accomplisht snare” (230). The description of Delila as a “specious Monster” is especially telling, as the word specious, according to the OED, means “Having a fair or attractive appearance or character, calculated to make a favourable impression on the mind, but in reality devoid of the qualities apparently possessed” and “Of falsehood, bad qualities.” Samson is captive to her appearance, and his weakness for Delila echoes that of Adam’s for Eve in the garden of Paradise Lost, as both men allow women to have power over them. In Paradise Lost God was forced to remind Adam of the original hierarchy of subjection after the fall:

Was she [Eve] thy God, that her thou didst obey
Before his voice, or was she made they guide,
Superior, or but equal, that to her
Thou didst resign thy manhood, and the place
Wherein God set thee above her made of thee
And for thee, whose perfection far excelled
Hers in all real dignity: adorned
She was indeed, and lovely to attract
They love, not thy subjection… (X.145-153)

Like Adam, Samson’s perfection “far excelled” that of Delila’s, for she not only was an idolater according to the Hebrew people, but she was also a woman, and therefore inherently imperfect and subject to man. The Chorus recognizes this shortcoming of woman as well: “Is it for that such outward ornament / Was lavish’t on thir Sex, that inward gifts / Were left for haste unfinish’t, judgment scant, / Capacity not raise’d to apprehend / Or value what is best / In choice, but oftest to affect the wrong (1025-1030)? Further, like Adam, Samson became enchanted by a woman and allowed himself to become subject to her, overturning the hierarchy of power that should be God over man, man over woman.

Samson is also captive of God, and God’s plans. Samson was a gift to his parents, who could not conceive a child on their own, in order to free the Hebrew people from the Philistines. Samson’s responsibility is to his people and to his God and by allowing himself to be overthrown and taken prisoner by those he is supposed to slay, he has shirked his duties. This is his final captivity, and one that he must embrace and accept before death, though this captivity is one of service to God and not of to man, be it the Philistines or to women. Samson reawakens to his calling, slowly, through the visitations of his father, his wife, and a giant who refuses his challenge:

But come what will, my deadliest foe will prove
My speediest friend, by death to rid me hence,
The worst that he can give, to me the best.
Yet so it may fall out, because thir end
Is hate, not help to me, it may with mine
Draw thir own ruin who attempt the deed. (1262-1267)

At the end of the poem Samson accepts that to be a man in the fallen world is a life of captivity be it captivity to sin, women, slavery, senses or captivity in service to God. It is, however, within man’s power to decide what they will be captive to, and that is when Samson reaffirms his service to God, killing the Philistinian Lords:

Be of good courage, I begin to feel
Some rousing motions in me which dispose
To something extraordinary my thoughts…
If there be aught of presage in the mind,
This day will be remarkable in my life
By some great act, or of my days the last. (1381-1383, 1387-1389)

Captivity in this post-lapsarian world is can be chosen, and what man chooses to be captive to determines his end, be it in shame or in heroism. Samson, because he chose ultimately to be captive to God, became a hero and is remembered to this day for his feats in saving the Hebrew people. Though captivity can deprive man of his gifts, it can also give him strength, depending on the captivity he chooses.

ENL 111: "One King, One God: Christianity in King Arthur's Court"

Jolene Brown

Dr. K. Smith

English 111

12 May 2009

One King, One God: Christianity in King Arthur’s Court

Religion is an important thread that runs through the many tales of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table. The virtues that the court is said to uphold, though they include other non-Christian influences, are representative of Christian virtues, and the idea of a single God is brought up continually throughout the works. As one of the earliest works that mention King Arthur and his court, Geoffrey of Monmouth’s The History of the Kings of Britain set the standard for the integration of religion, virtue and valor into the politics and kingships of Britain. In this way, Arthur’s rise and fall as King of Britain can be seen as an attempt to advocate Christianity over paganism, specifically monotheism as superior to polytheism. By criticizing the in-fighting of Christians for power Geoffrey argues that Christians should instead turn their fighting to outer foes, spreading the word of the Christian God, thus creating a larger support network, and ultimately the expansion of both Christianity and British power.

Religion plays an important part in the virtues attributed to Arthur by Geoffrey, and those virtues are what make Arthur popular among his people. Geoffrey, in Book 9, describes Arthur as a “youth of outstanding virtue and largesse” whose “innate goodness made him exhibit such grace that he was beloved by almost all people” (163). Geoffrey also says Arthur is one who “possessed both great courage and generosity,” but it is clear that these virtues are reserved only for his people, as the line finishes by pointing out Arthur’s determination “to attack the Saxons so that he could distribute their riches among his men” (163). But even his violence towards the Saxons is justified by another virtue: “Justice spurred him on as well, since by right of inheritance he ought to have control over the entire island” (163). The listing of these virtues and the attribution to Arthur not only makes him a worthy candidate for the throne, but also allude to a higher authority that gifted such virtues to the man. It is also important that Arthur wants to protect his own people over the Saxons, choosing the “justice” of inheritance over the allowance of peace. In making this decision Arthur is choosing to not only spread his own power, but to also further reaches of his virtues, granted by God.

An early example of Arthur helping Christianity is his actions after driving out the Saxons from Britain: “Arthur then rebuilt all the churches that had been destroyed and established communities of religious men and women there” (170). Arthur restores both churches and communities while simultaneously strengthening the ties of the church to these distant realms. He also becomes a symbol for the power and virtue of Christianity establishing that God can place such a man in power, but can also give that man the strength to drive the pagans out of Britain and allow for the reestablishment of the Christian church. Arthur also shows his virtues to those people who he restores their faith by also restoring “titles and property to all those who had been driven out by the Saxon occupation” (170). This generosity of both his faith, through the restoration of the churches, and of his wealth, through the distribution of property, speaks highly of Arthur’s character and also of the God that he represents.

In the spreading of the Christian faith through all the lands of Britain Arthur comes to inspire faith in other, ever more distant, lands. The court that he creates gains renown through all of Britain, as the word spreads about the grandness of Arthur’s Round Table. By inviting “all the bravest men from the far-flung reaches of his domains” Arthur is able to “cultivate such refinement…that people far and wide sought to emulate it” (171). This act of emulation both by individuals and by other royal courts speaks as a metaphor for religion. Religious ritual is meant to be copied, reenacted by others for the sake of faith, and by copying Arthur’s court the subjects of Britain are not only showing faith in Arthur, but also faith in the religion that created him. However, religious devotion can also spread fear to those who do not know or understand the purpose for the ritual, which explains the reactions of the other European kings: “The fame of Arthur’s great generosity and prowess then spread to the furthest ends of the earth, and great fear beset the kings across the sea” (171). The kings were afraid of losing their lands to Arthur, but part of their fear one could attribute to the ritualistic fashion in which British subjects sought to copy Arthur’s court so fastidiously to the point that “Every young nobleman was tempted to hang himself unless he could dress or bear arms like the knights of King Arthur’s court” (171).

Through a combination of his virtues and warfare, Arthur wins over domains far-reaching from his inherited kingdom. Arthur’s influence spread past Britain into Europe as “There did not remain one prince of any merit on this side of Spain who did not attend his court when summoned…Arthur’s generosity was renowned all over the world and this made all men love him” (175). After several years of ruling peacefully over Britain, Arthur “rejoiced at being universally feared” and when he realizes that he “desired to submit all Europe to his rule” (171). This conflict of virtue with greed gives a clue into the downfall of Arthur: the end of the round table will come from within. It is Arthur’s decision to spread his power throughout Europe that, one could argue, ultimately leads to his downfall, and it is significant that it is the fear that others have of him that drives him to make this decision. When Arthur is compared to God, God also commands a form of fear from his followers, however it is believed that since God is a perfect being that the fear will not be manipulated for personal gain. Arthur, however, is only a man, and as a man has inherent flaws that prevent him from realizing the mistake he makes in manipulating the fear of his neighboring kingdoms for his own gain. Though it seems though Arthur is only continuing spread the Christian faith, this move is different because it is driven by his desire, and not the “right of inheritance” that was given to him by both his earthy father, Uther, and his Christian father (163).

The giant that Arthur fights can be seen as a symbol of this inner conflict of greed with virtue, as the giant represents the power hungry man that Arthur is becoming. The giant takes a young maiden, who in her fear can be compared to those kingdoms who fear Arthur, and attempts to rape her; when she dies in the attempt, the giant rapes the old woman instead. This juxtaposition between the young maiden and the old crone brings to mind the new kingdoms that Arthur has his sights on, and the old kingdoms of Britain that he is forced to settle with. By killing the young maiden in the attempt to rape her, the giant never gets his satisfaction from the maiden; Arthur never gets his satisfaction in taking Rome despite winning her because he is forced to return to Britain to defend her, his crone, instead. Another important factor in this story is that Arthur is insistent on defeating the giant himself: “For King Arthur possessed such strength and courage that he scoffed at bringing the entire army against such monsters. He wanted to impress his men by vanquishing the creature himself” (183). His insistence on going alone to defeat the giant only reinforces the inflated ego that has developed since he learned how he is feared.

The conflict that begins within Arthur ultimately destroys his kingdom, and leaves Britain in ruins after his defeat. In Book 11, Geoffrey outlines the folly of the British people:

O you hateful people of Britain…Because your kingdom was so divided against itself…because your pride did not allow you to obey a single king, you shall behold your land laid waste by impious pagans. Your houses shall indeed fall, and your descendants shall indeed mourn…they will barely ever be able to regain their former state of dignity. (202)

This lament for the people of Britain, though it is referring directly to their failure to accept Arthur as their “single king,” also speaks in religious overtones as their not accepting God as their “single king.” It is a call against polytheism, and the pagan religions that called people away from the Christian guidance provided by the church. Geoffrey also tells the reader that “the Britons thus lost the crown of Britain for many years…they did not follow a single king but instead obeyed three separate warlords who constantly ravaged the land fighting one another” (203). Instead of only one “king” or God, there were more than one, lending itself to pagan rituals and practices. By succumbing to these many gods, the Britons had lost both the crown, and the dignity that it had while under the rule of a wise, Christian king like Arthur.

In writing the history of the British people this way Geoffrey integrates religion into politics so subtly that the implications are not immediate. This view of a King as a symbol for God helped to forge the groundwork for the later Anglican religion, which places the monarch at the center of both the church and the state. By uniting the people under one religion that served the King as a representative of God, and by integrating that religion into their politics the Britons were able to create a vast world power within only a few hundred years of Geoffrey’s writings. Britain became Arthur, and through religion and warfare managed to take over most of the world, but like Arthur, they were not able to sustain it.

ENL 142: Short Essay Submission 2

The Female American by Unca Eliza Winkfield, page 121:

My next fear was for the poor Indians, who would come in the evening, and not finding me by the shore…would no doubt come upon the island, in search of me, and be taken for slaves. Nor might the evil stop thus; their country might be discovered, and probably invaded, and numbers of the people be carried away into slavery, and other injuries committed.

“The Most Remarkable and Strange State Situation and Appearance of Indian Tribes in the Great Continent” by Samuel Occam, page 58:

…when I come to look and view the nations of the World I can’t see that they [the Indians of America] are under Greater Curse than other nations…and when I come to Consider and See the Conduct of the Most Learned, Polite, and Rich Nations of the World, I find them to be the Most Tyrannical, Cruel, and inhuman oppressors, and their Fellow Creatures in the World, these make all the confusions and destructions among the Nations of the Whole World, they are the nations that enslave the poor Negroes in Such Barbarous manner, as out do the Savage Indians in North America, and these are Called Christian Nations…

Both of the passages point to the hypocrisy that exists among the English when one considers their Christian ideals versus the slavery perpetuated by the English in the New World. Both Unca Eliza Winkfield and Samuel Occam were trans-cultured Native Americans, and both point out how the humanity of the English is lacking, primarily in the way that the English take slaves. Slavery, no matter how well the slaves may be treated, is still wrong in that it strips humanity of its liberty and rights. In that sense, slavery should be contrary to the beliefs of Christians at this time (or any time for that matter), but instead it is embraced as a staple of “modern” English colonial society.

Both authors attribute knowledge and civility to the English, and yet still understand that civility does not equate to universal philanthropy and liberty. Instead, the English are self-serving, and ethnocentric, believing that all cultures outside their own, especially of non-Christian origins, are lacking even basic human qualities deserving of respect. For example, Unca fears that her Indian friends will not only be taken as slaves but also that “their country might be discovered, and probably invaded, and numbers of the people be carried away into slavery, and other injuries committed.” This passage really reveals her mistrust of the intentions of the English who have stumbled upon her island, and her fears seem out of place with someone who was basically raised in an English community, and spend most of her youth in England. She recognizes that despite the civility of the English, they suffer from a savagery in the form of enslaving for wealth and gain.

Her views are very similar to Samuel Occam, who was not raised in an English society, does not have English blood, and did not spend much time in England during his life. He points out a paradox of nations, as he writes: “I come to consider and see the conduct of the most learned, polite, and rich nations of the world, I find them to be the most tyrannical, cruel and inhuman oppressors.” Such descriptions paint the English in a conflicting manner, since it is hard to imagine a nation to be both polite and cruel at the simultaneously. His disgust is even more apparent when he remarks that “…these are called Christian nations…” In this way he makes it obvious that savagery and barbarism is not limited to only heathens, and such problems occur even with good “Christian” nations. This paradox, however, is not an isolated case with these two Native American authors; this idea is carried through many works of this time as writers try to maintain the Christian values that the English put forth with the savage brutality of slavery that they value.