THE WILL TO KNOWLEDGE AND THE PROCESS OF N ARRATIVE IN PARADISE LOST O N N O O E R L E M A N S Yale University Banish all objects of lust, shut up all youth into the severest discipline that can be exercised in any hermitage, ye cannot make them chaste that came not thither so. . . . Suppose we could expel sin by this means; look how much we thus expel of sin, so much we expel of virtue: for the matter of them both is the same; remove that, and ye remove them both alike. This justifies the high providence of God, who, though he command us temperance, justice, continence, yet pours out before us, even to a profuseness, all desirable things, and gives us minds that can wander beyond all limit and satiety. (Areopagitica, 733)1 O n e of Milton’s great achievements as a poet is his representation of the psychology of choice, his depiction of the complexity of consciousness as it struggles to know itself and its limitations. Notwithstanding the condem nation by the narrator of Paradise Lost of the fallen angels who on a Hill retir’d, In thoughts more elevate, and reason’d high Of Providence, Foreknowledge, Will, and Fate, Fixt Fate, Free will, Foreknowledge absolute, And found no end, in wand’ring mazes lost, (II, 557-61) Milton is himself centrally concerned with recovering an understanding of what is a central paradox of Christianity and western metaphysics: namely, how man can be obedient to the laws of God (and causality) and accepting of the idea of His omniscience, while at the same time he maintains a notion of the essential freedom of his own acts. That is, if God is the first cause, and “fate can be nothing but a divine decree” ( Christian Doctrine, 905), how is it that man can maintain a sense of his own originality, of his responsibility for his own being? Calvin ultimately banished the idea of responsibility and freedom altogether, but Milton becomes almost obsessively concerned with demonstrating the fundamental freedom of man’s will. J.B. Savage has suc cinctly outlined the centrality of the concern for freedom in both the prose and poetry of Milton, arguing that Milton could not accept the incoherence of a system of morality that allowed for either “a fugitive and cloistered E n g l i s h S t u d i e s i n C a n a d a , x v i , i , M a r c h 1 9 9 0 virtue, unexercised and unbreathed” (Areopagitica, 728), or predetermined reprobation. Milton rejects both notions because they deny responsibility or self-agency to the individual consciousness. Milton thus distinguishes himself from Calvin by granting only a corre spondence or co-existence between God’s foreknowledge and fate, and not a necessary and determining connection: But if God foresaw that man would fall of his own free will, there was no occasion for any decree relative to the fall itself, but only relative to the provision to be made for man, whose future fall was foreseen. Since then the apostacy of the first man was not decreed, but only foreknown by the infinite wisdom of God, it follows that predestination was not an absolute decree before the fall of man. ( Christian Doctrine, 918) It is the nature of this correspondence that I wish to examine, for it im plies an extraordinary paradox in which the external laws of God become fundamentally internal — an integral part of a free consciousness. The will of God becomes transposed into the will of man. The nature of this trans lation, however, is an extremely problematic one, involving an oscillation between the will to a kind of pure, self-fathering freedom emblematized by Satan, and the absolute obedience of Christ. This dialectic, I shall argue, is fundamentally in the process of narrative itself. In telling the story of the origin of man, Milton struggles between an obedience to received material that has its origin ultimately in God Himself, and the desire to create some form original in itself, and for himself. Furthermore, the process of narra tive becomes, through this dialectic...