And now, kiddies, another Milton moment

[Guest StuCotts]

The link takes you to a review of a new book proving that the uphill struggle goes on to make Milton seem, if not interesting, at least human. One thing this review has done is make me wonder, for the first time in my life, how Charles Diodati was hung.

http://books.guardian.co.uk/review/story/0,,2242988,00.html

[Guest raulgmanzo]

I like Anna Beer's writing, she had me convinced I should spend my New Years eve reading Milton's Paradise Lost aloud. Alas I couldn't find anyone interested in joining me.

R

[AdamSmith]

One thing this review has done is make me wonder, for the first time in my life, how Charles Diodati was hung.

One of the burning questions of the age! As you know: Milton, age 31, returning home from an extended tour of Europe, learns that his best friend, Diodati, has died while Milton was abroad. In response he pens "Damon's Epitaph," a pastoral elegy to Diodati written in Latin. Most English translations apply a bland Victorianizing patina, particularly to the ending. E.g.:

"...Because a rosy blush, and a youth without stain were dear to you, because you never tasted the pleasure of marriage, lo! for you are reserved a virgin's honours. Your noble head bound with a glittering wreath, in your hands the glad branches of the leafy palm, you shall for ever act and act again the immortal nuptials, where song and the lyre, mingled with the blessed dances, wax rapturous, and the joyous revels rage under the thyrsus of Zion."

All right as far as it goes. But some feel the Latin carries rather more red blood and other bodily fluids. This version courtesy Reynolds Price:

...Because you saved your blood of youth nor soiled,

Because you did not taste the joys of bed,

For virgin you they serve you full rewards:

Head shining, ringed with crimson crown,

Hands bearing palm-leaf shades, you thrust

In endless acts of endless Hymen

To song and mad harp threading choruses,

Wine feasts and orgies, sprouting wands of Zion.

(In fact Price's publisher found this too much, changing "thrust / In" to "last / Through" in the printed version. Hmph.)

[AdamSmith]

I like Anna Beer's writing, she had me convinced I should spend my New Years eve reading Milton's Paradise Lost aloud. Alas I couldn't find anyone interested in joining me.

You must not have made it clear that you would take after William Blake and his wife, who liked to read Milton aloud to each other sitting naked in the back garden.

[TotallyOz]

You must not have made it clear that you would take after William Blake and his wife, who liked to read Milton aloud to each other sitting naked in the back garden.

I'd be terrified that the neighbors would have a heart attack if I were in the backyard naked reading Milton. Would that be cause enough for them to put me in the Loony Bin? Image the policeman responding to that call. "And, Mr. Oz, you are naked in the backyard why?" "Well sir, I was reading Milton and no better place than the backyard"

PS I am from the South so we don't have back gardens, we have backyards. It normally contains a few hunting dogs, a old truck that needs repair and some Budwiser beer cans. Not sure if that would create the same ambiance as the Blake's back garden, but I think Milton would enjoy it just the same.

[Guest StuCotts]

One of the burning questions of the age! As you know: Milton, age 31, returning home from an extended tour of Europe, learns that his best friend, Diodati, has died while Milton was abroad. In response he pens "Damon's Epitaph," a pastoral elegy to Diodati written in Latin. Most English translations apply a bland Victorianizing patina, particularly to the ending. E.g.:

"...Because a rosy blush, and a youth without stain were dear to you, because you never tasted the pleasure of marriage, lo! for you are reserved a virgin's honours. Your noble head bound with a glittering wreath, in your hands the glad branches of the leafy palm, you shall for ever act and act again the immortal nuptials, where song and the lyre, mingled with the blessed dances, wax rapturous, and the joyous revels rage under the thyrsus of Zion."

All right as far as it goes. But some feel the Latin carries rather more red blood and other bodily fluids. This version courtesy Reynolds Price:

...Because you saved your blood of youth nor soiled,

Because you did not taste the joys of bed,

For virgin you they serve you full rewards:

Head shining, ringed with crimson crown,

Hands bearing palm-leaf shades, you thrust

In endless acts of endless Hymen

To song and mad harp threading choruses,

Wine feasts and orgies, sprouting wands of Zion.

(In fact Price's publisher found this too much, changing "thrust / In" to "last / Through" in the printed version. Hmph.)

I guess I can stop wondering about dear Charles. That's a relief.

[Guest StuCotts]

I have only awe and envy for of appreciators of Milton who actually read him with pleasure. I wish I had your stamina. I tend to agree with Samuel Johnson, who, with all his admiration for what Paradise Lost represents in English letters, said of it:

"None ever wished it longer than it is. Its perusal is a duty rather than a pleasure. We read Milton for instruction, retire harassed and overburdened, and look elsewhere for recreation..."

Keep up the good work, guys, whatever your state of dress.

[AdamSmith]

PS I am from the South so we don't have back gardens, we have backyards. It normally contains a few hunting dogs, a old truck that needs repair and some Budwiser beer cans. Not sure if that would create the same ambiance as the Blake's back garden, but I think Milton would enjoy it just the same.

I likewise grew up south of the Manson-Nixon line as Robin Williams called it. We should note that all that stuff goes in the backyard only because the refrigerator and washing machine are already taking up the front porch.

My grandparents' neighbor, who enjoyed his white lightning, often sat on his front porch after dark reading out loud to himself from the Good Book. Or just talking to himself. Clothed, to be sure, except when he would rise and step to the edge, to take a whizz into his azaleas.

[AdamSmith]

"None ever wished it longer than it is. Its perusal is a duty rather than a pleasure. We read Milton for instruction, retire harassed and overburdened, and look elsewhere for recreation..."

One of Dr. Johnson's (one could address one's privy member that way) highest virtues was to be contrary. His age worshiped Milton, thus his crack.

Re-reading Milton is more enjoyable than reading him the first time. For one thing, you know where the good bits are. Like in Paradise Lost, Book VIII, where Adam dares to ask Raphael whether angels have sex. Raphael, "with a smile that glowed / Celestial rosy red, Love's proper hue, answered."

The answer is yes.

[AdamSmith]

By the way...

"None ever wished it longer than it is. "

[Guest StuCotts]

By the way...

Stop that. You're being salacious. Considering what is known about his private life, it's sadly clear that even if he'd had a forearm-size dick it would have been a kinda waste of meat.

[lookin]

Considering what is known about his private life, it's sadly clear that even if he'd had a forearm-size dick it would have been a kinda waste of meat.

Happy coincidence, no doubt, that Milton's family home was The Spreadeagle.