Divided in to twelve books, Paradise Lost starts off showing us a vision of hell quite different of Dante's in that Hell is described not so much a place but an environment one's self creates.("The mind is its own place, and in itself/ Can make a Heav'n of Hell, a Hell of Heav'n.)Throughout the first four books we see the fall, Heaven, Hell, all through Satan's perspective. The last eight books are centered on the parents of mankind Adam and Eve. Reader may find their own intentions and philosophies on life brought to the surface in reading this book; look to finding which side one sympathizes with: Heaven, Hell, or Adam and Eve? Milton shows his genius in getting each side's thought processes to the forefront. I remember in book X relating with Adam and Eve in their debate following the fall.
Readers may find the language difficult, but if they have prepared themselves by reading a little of Shakespeare and a little of John Donne, it will be considerably easier. Don't allow the language to daunt you, it's worth it!
As to which edition to buy, you have two options: if you're poor, (like me) you'll probably want to go with the Penguin edition; it has good notes, and the introduction is okay. If you have a bit more cash on you go with the Norton Critical Edition edited by Scott Elledge; it has excellent notes, and includes a wide body of analysis on Milton by many different authors.
It's been a long time since I have come across a book that speaks to me so deeply. I will probably read this several more times. I recommend this to all readers that have the courage to plunge headlong into seventeenth century prose.
"The Mind is its own place, and in itself
Can make a heav'n of hell, a hell of heav'n" (book 1, 254-255)
'Hid in her vacant interlunar cave', about which Eliot acutely observes that the word 'interlunar' is not necessary to the sense. Sure it's not. Offhand from Paradise Lost I could quote
'Of light the greater part by far he took
Transplanted from her cloudy shrine', where you can say the same about 'transplanted', and there are hundreds of such instances. This is a very characteristic way that Latin poetry in general expressed itself, and Eliot has got the wrong end of the stick by not understanding that. Much of Milton's vocabulary is also half-Latin, e.g. 'complicated' meaning knotted and countless other such. I can never unknow my Latin, thank God, and so I can never be sure just what Milton' poetry, as opposed to his theology, conveys to those who read him without it.
When I had Milton forced down my throat, my unhearing ears (maybe even my 'blind mouth') at school (I did not pursue English further but went for Greek and Latin), the orthodox view appeared to be that Satan was some great piece of 'characterisation'. To this day that interpretation means nothing to me. Milton is all about sound and language, not characters. God, Satan (Ariel does not get anything to say), Adam, Eve, Ithuriel and the whole mighty harlequinade are all just talking the great Miltonic talk, like the author himself between the speeches. The thought creates the tone of the talk, and the tone creates the characters. In the early books Satan is the focus, in the later Adam and Eve. They sound different because they think differently. This is not drama or anything resembling drama.
Milton justifies the ways of God to me very well. I was brought up religious and I am at home with theological argument. Milton's argument is strong given his base position as an intense believer, and it is what underpins the terrific strength and the unremitting concentration of his whole apocalyptic vision. To me God is just a hypothesis and that is as far as I can go with him, and to me poetry is far more significant than theology. I have read a load of pretentious hot air about what poetry is, but the remark that illuminated the issue to me more than all the rest of it was by Housman in an address on Swinburne, when he said 'poetry is a tone of voice, a way of saying things'. Bingo. Spot on. Paradise Lost to me is all one mighty voice talking 'in divers tones' as Tennyson has it.
On a lighter note, did you know that the word 'backside' is used in Paradise Lost? You will find it at III/494 as part of his attack on Catholicism. This is a particularly memorable passage, and I say that not as an atheist but as someone who appreciates humour. My memory of Milton outside of Paradise Lost is lengthening, though I plan to refresh it, but at the moment it is the only instance of anything that could even possibly be seen as humour in Milton. I choose to forget everything I have seen described as 'humour' in Comus.
Paradise Lost is a very complicated, yet rewarding, Epic poem. It is by far the best of its kind in the English language, and where it lacks in original conventions, it more than makes up for it in its pure power of poetry. For those readers of translations who are unable to enjoy Homer's Greek, Virgil's Latin or Dante's Italian, Paradise Lost can offer them a unique chance to enjoy an epic poem in its original vernacular.
However, you must bear in mind that Paradise Lost is one of the most difficult pieces of poetry to read, and is by no means as simple as reading a translation of Homer or Virgil. The language is lexically dense, with complex grammar structures at times. These hurdles will be found considerably easier for experienced readers of Shakespeare, and those who are already aware of common traits of epic poetry.
Milton's use of language is majestic, boasting an impressive metre. The poem is lavished with many famous quotes that have become ingrained into everyday English, with such examples as "Pandemonium" and "All hell broke loose". Paradise Lost is, without a doubt, a must read for any intellectual English reader.
Like all epic poetry Milton's piece of art is highly indebted to Homer's conventions, with typical imitations of the Iliad's list of warriors and the Odyssey's garden of Alcinous. But Milton's debt to the Classics manifests itself as a representation of learned study, (with links to such writers as Aeschylus, Sophocles, Plato, Shakespeare and Spenser), therefore it does not so much as pilfer from great literature, as it instead endeavours to become a part of it.
Paradise Lost offers the epic reader a new form of subject, not just the usual heroes and large battles, but a theme which captivates the reader - the devils fall and man's respectively. The rebel Angels' descent from heaven to hell and Adam's from Eden to a desolate "outside" world, captivate the reader with an intriguing theme: the loss of innocence and the fall into experience. Why must Man sin? What is his relationship to Satan's loss of grace? And where does God's image of himself measure with his own maker? Milton's poem may lack the great Achilles and the gleaming towers of Troy, but it does offer much intellectual food for thought.
This Penguin edition is a rare find of value for money, it is not particlularly inexpensive, but come on ... please bear in mind the tiny price tag on this book - for less than half the price of a DVD you can own the English language's greatest poetic feat!
It is the Miltonic Satan that really comes to the forefront of this poem. The cunning fallen angel, who decides that "All good to me is lost; Evil, be thou my Good" (IV.109-10), is as appealing to the reader as Marlowe's "Nun-poisoning" Barabas the Jew. It is with some guilt that this present commentator must own to rooting for this most infamous baddy throughout the poem. With a display of wit almost as sharp as Ovid or Nonnos, Milton indisputably gives his best lines to God's antagonist. This Devil is not just a superficial evil being, but instead a complex character; one that feels remorse for his fall, love for his close friends, and a harrowing jealousy of Man. What we are given by Milton's villain is not just a rewarding psychological study of Christianity's Devil, but also a commentary upon our own ignoble actions.