The Rolling Stones have a famous song called “Sympathy for the Devil.” I think it may be an apropos title for John Milton’s Paradise Lost. English poet William Blake, who admired but disagreed with Milton, famously said that Milton was “of the Devil’s party without knowing it.” In other words, Blake thought that Milton so humanized Satan in his epic poem, and so made him a “sympathetic” figure by articulating Satan’s struggles, that readers would be inclined to think kindly of the Devil. And thus, Milton was actually advancing the cause of Satan by portraying him in such a light. I happen to disagree with Blake’s interpretation (I think it’s a superficial reading of the poem), and here’s why.
It is true that many of my students in class have admitted such a sympathy or pity for Satan in Paradise Lost. However, this does not mean that they agree with Satan or are inclined toward him in any way after reading the poem. It may be instructive to take an example from a recent movie called Downfall which was released in 2004. It tells the story of Hitler’s last days—but what made it different from previous Hitler movies is that: it portrayed Hitler as the main character; it was done all in German and used an actor, not historical film footage, to portray Hitler; and it showed every aspect of him, from the tyrant that we expect, to the “nice” character we don’t. That last one was what provoked the most criticism from audiences. The movie portrayed Hitler petting a dog, being nice to children and his loyal followers, smiling, etc.
Responses from critics ranged from “Are we allowed to show the monster as a human being?” to “A few journalists…wondered aloud whether the ‘human’ treatment of Hitler might not inadvertently aid the neo-Nazi movement” to “Sympathy I felt in the sense that I would feel it for a rabid dog, while accepting that it must be destroyed” to “the monster was not invariably monstrous… We get the point; Hitler was not a supernatural being; he was common clay raised to power by the desire of his followers.”
I think these responses can be applied to Satan in Milton’s poem just as well as they can apply to Hitler in Downfall. Both characters are humanized to the point where you can sympathize with them, but if you come away with the message that both Satan and Hitler are not so bad after all, then you’re missing the point. I think the message is that, when we sympathize with Satan and Hitler, we should think that any one of us can be just like them. After all, Satan started off well, as the greatest of the angels in heaven. Hitler started off well, just as any human being does, as an innocent baby (of course there is original sin to take into account, but my point is that Hitler started off the same way every human did). At some point, they were corrupted and they descended down the slippery slope to the abyss. If someone can go from good to bad, and bad to really really bad, then why can’t we?
I think the genius of Paradise Lost and Downfall (aside from their literary and cinematic craft) is that they are cautionary tales. They portray the everyman and all of our potential for evil. This poem and movie should be like mirrors held up to our faces, showing us the reality of what we really are and can be. It should not cause us to want to be like Hitler or Satan, but rather to frighten us away from that potential that lies like a coiled serpent inside each and every one of us. Know your enemy (in this case yourself) and perhaps that will be the way to overcome it.
Philip Pullman, author of the recent His Dark Materials trilogy (The Golden Compass; The Subtle Knife; The Amber Spyglass; in fact the title of the trilogy comes from Paradise Lost, Book II, line 916) sought to write his trilogy based on Milton but taking Blake’s interpretation. In other words, he sought to rewrite Paradise Lost, but being of the Devil’s party and knowing it! But Pullman just doesn’t get it. He’s being just like all the other uncritical voices if he thinks that is what Milton’s point was. Watching Downfall and becoming a neo-Nazi is just as stupid.
Professor John Coe, of Biola University’s ISF (Institute for Spiritual Formation), wrote an article in the Journal of Spiritual Formation and Soul Care (Vol. 1, No. 1, 2008) called “Resisting the Temptation of Moral Formation: Opening to Spiritual Formation in the Cross and the Spirit” where he says on pp. 62-3:
Simple observation of human nature, particularly in more refined and advanced cultures, reveals that natural morality or moralism seems to be the primary way that unbelievers hide from God and guilt and cover their badness as a way to not experience shame. In that sense, morality has become a monolithic defense against seeing oneself truly and opening to one’s need for God. Moralism reaps natural benefits and enables one, at least for a time, to keep at bay feelings of guilt and shame. It is interesting how Christians often take note of the immorality of secular society when, in fact, most unbelievers are not as blatantly bad as they could be. More to the point, they do not think they are bad at all. And just try to convince them otherwise! It seems that humans generally have a deep seated need to not feel guilty, evident in their insistence on their own goodness, that they are not as bad as the criminal, and that their efforts at being good is evidence that that they do not need a savior. As Dallas Willard once said, we are all born legalists. What a waste of a life to spend it trying to be good just to keep from seeing the truth of oneself. The price tag to all of this is that we develop habits of the heart of hiding and covering, unable to fully and truly see ourselves as we are and unable to find full freedom within ourselves, God and others.
I hope that our response to sin is not to point it out in others while covering up our own faults with moralism. I hope that we can read Paradise Lost and watch Downfall and recognize that we can be every bit the Satan or Hitler, that these are not monsters but rather us taken to the Nth degree. And hopefully this “sympathy for the devil” will cause us not to try to self-help or self-medicate or trust in our own ability (moralism), but to turn to the only One who can save us. Kyrie Eleison.