Category Archives: Mornings with Milton
You Know You’re in A.P. English When Some of the Sentences Start With ‘Me’: Some Brief Thoughts on Paradise Lost With More to Come Soon, I Promise!
If I had to pick a single sentence in Paradise Lost that is most linguistically intriguing (so far, anyway), it would be this one, from Book II, lines18-24: Me though just right, and the fixed laws of Heav’n Did first … Continue reading →
After they conclude their parliamentary debate about whether or not to wage another war against God, the rebel angels make plans to scout the cosmos out to see if the rumor they’ve heard about the creation of mankind is true. … Continue reading →
Death is not – as Wallace Stevens supposes – the mother of beauty. In fact, Death is the father of the hell hounds. What? Yes, I’m serious. I’ve read Book II of Paradise Lost, and I know these things. Book … Continue reading →
Paradise Lost is hard. It’s hard and intimidating and impossible to read without hearing Milton’s throaty voice laughing at you from wherever he is now – probably Purgatory. It’s also fascinating. This poem reminds me how much I love blank … Continue reading →