#john-milton — Public Fediverse posts
Live and recent posts from across the Fediverse tagged #john-milton, aggregated by home.social.
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The Censor Keeps a Copy
Twenty years ago, give or take, a friend told me a story he expected me to admire. He was a Latter-day Saint who worked in technology, and he was, as I understood it then, the bishop of his ward, an unpaid office the church gives to laymen who keep their day jobs, so he kept a company's hours all week and presided over a congregation on Sundays. There was a Mormon bookstore he went into often, and one day he walked in and found a new display for Goosebumps, the paperbacks with the dripping green logo about haunted masks, a ventriloquist's dummy with a mind of its own, and a werewolf in a Florida swamp. He spoke to the owner. The owner told him the books were selling well and that those sales were keeping the store alive. My friend pressed him on content, judged the whole series blasphemous, an invitation to the occult at a child's price, and let it be understood that if the titles stayed on the shelf a report would go to the stake president. A week later he came back. The books were gone, the owner was distant and cold, and my friend bought a couple of books, in his own phrase, to make up the difference. He told me this the way another man might tell you he had coached his kid's team to a championship. He was proud. The word I have settled on, twenty years later, is forensic: he had investigated, prosecuted, and won, and he walked out of that store on the high of it. […] -
The Censor Keeps a Copy
Twenty years ago, give or take, a friend told me a story he expected me to admire. He was a Latter-day Saint who worked in technology, and he was, as I understood it then, the bishop of his ward, an unpaid office the church gives to laymen who keep their day jobs, so he kept a company's hours all week and presided over a congregation on Sundays. There was a Mormon bookstore he went into often, and one day he walked in and found a new display for Goosebumps, the paperbacks with the dripping green logo about haunted masks, a ventriloquist's dummy with a mind of its own, and a werewolf in a Florida swamp. He spoke to the owner. The owner told him the books were selling well and that those sales were keeping the store alive. My friend pressed him on content, judged the whole series blasphemous, an invitation to the occult at a child's price, and let it be understood that if the titles stayed on the shelf a report would go to the stake president. A week later he came back. The books were gone, the owner was distant and cold, and my friend bought a couple of books, in his own phrase, to make up the difference. He told me this the way another man might tell you he had coached his kid's team to a championship. He was proud. The word I have settled on, twenty years later, is forensic: he had investigated, prosecuted, and won, and he walked out of that store on the high of it. […] -
The Guardian view on booming poetry sales: Homer, meet the Instapoets | Editorial
By EditorialIn an unexpected twist, a Hollywood epic has contributed to Britain’s best-ever half-year in poetry sales
#Poetry #Books #Homer #TheOdyssey #Culture #Film #MartinAmis #RobertBrowning #JohnMilton #EzraPound #RupiKaur #Socialmedia #PhilipLarkin #TheGuardian #Editorial
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The Guardian view on booming poetry sales: Homer, meet the Instapoets | Editorial
By EditorialIn an unexpected twist, a Hollywood epic has contributed to Britain’s best-ever half-year in poetry sales
#Poetry #Books #Homer #TheOdyssey #Culture #Film #MartinAmis #RobertBrowning #JohnMilton #EzraPound #RupiKaur #Socialmedia #PhilipLarkin #TheGuardian #Editorial
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OUCH! The Translator of #TheOdyssey Just Slammed #ChristopherNolan’s Movie
“I would be ashamed to have written any part of this script,” wrote #EmilyWilson, the first woman to translate The Odyssey into English.
By Josh OsmanPublished: Jul 27, 2026 1:20 PM EDT
Excerpt: "Throughout her piece, the scholar notes that no adaptation should necessarily follow an original exactly. (In fact, she praises some radically reinterpretations of The Odyssey, including #MargaretAtwood's #Penelopiad, #MadelineMiller's #Circe, and other literary classics that riff off the text, including those of #Euripides, #JohnMilton, and #JamesJoyce.)"
#ClassicsBookClub #Classics #Movies #Homer #AncientGreece #ReadABook
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OUCH! The Translator of #TheOdyssey Just Slammed #ChristopherNolan’s Movie
“I would be ashamed to have written any part of this script,” wrote #EmilyWilson, the first woman to translate The Odyssey into English.
By Josh OsmanPublished: Jul 27, 2026 1:20 PM EDT
Excerpt: "Throughout her piece, the scholar notes that no adaptation should necessarily follow an original exactly. (In fact, she praises some radically reinterpretations of The Odyssey, including #MargaretAtwood's #Penelopiad, #MadelineMiller's #Circe, and other literary classics that riff off the text, including those of #Euripides, #JohnMilton, and #JamesJoyce.)"
#ClassicsBookClub #Classics #Movies #Homer #AncientGreece #ReadABook
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Satan, nyss nedstörtad i helvetet efter sitt uppror mot Gud, samlar sina fallna änglar för att rådgöra vad som bör göras. Ett nytt anfall av himlen eller kanske be om nåd?
Då det ryktas om att Gud planerar en ny skapelse smids så planen; Satan färdas genom Kaos fram till Jorden för att korrumpera de nya varelserna.
I hans spår följer hans två barn, Döden och Synd, och bygger en bred och bekväm väg.Svinbra den här.
"Långt hellre djupens kung än slav i himmelen!"
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Satan, nyss nedstörtad i helvetet efter sitt uppror mot Gud, samlar sina fallna änglar för att rådgöra vad som bör göras. Ett nytt anfall av himlen eller kanske be om nåd?
Då det ryktas om att Gud planerar en ny skapelse smids så planen; Satan färdas genom Kaos fram till Jorden för att korrumpera de nya varelserna.
I hans spår följer hans två barn, Döden och Synd, och bygger en bred och bekväm väg.Svinbra den här.
"Långt hellre djupens kung än slav i himmelen!"
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Milton's Cottage, Chalfont St Giles, Buckinghamshire, c.1920 - Coles RP Postcard
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Milton's Cottage, Chalfont St Giles, Buckinghamshire, c.1920 - Coles RP Postcard
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An AI version of Milton’s Paradise Lost is fundamentally unworthy of one of the great works of art https://www.theguardian.com/film/2026/may/05/ai-paradise-lost-fundamentally-unworthy-roger-avary #Film #Culture #AiArtificialIntelligence #JohnMilton #Books #Computing #Technology
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An AI version of Milton’s Paradise Lost is fundamentally unworthy of one of the great works of art https://www.theguardian.com/film/2026/may/05/ai-paradise-lost-fundamentally-unworthy-roger-avary #Film #Culture #AiArtificialIntelligence #JohnMilton #Books #Computing #Technology
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Belial Speaks…
This is an excerpt from Book 2 of Paradise Lost by John Milton. Belial (a fallen angel) is speaking at a “Consultation” held in Pandemonium chaired by Satan (i.e. a meeting of the local Governing Authority):
I should be much for open war, O Peers,
As not behind in hate, if what was urged
Main reason to persuade immediate war
Did not dissuade me most, and seem to cast
Ominous conjecture on the whole success;
When he who most excels in fact of arms,
In what he counsels and in what excels
Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair
And utter dissolution, as the scope
Of all his aim, after some dire revenge.
First, what revenge? The towers of Heaven are filled
With armed watch, that render all access
Impregnable: oft on the bordering Deep
Encamp their legions, or with obscure wing
Scout far and wide into the realm of Night,
Scorning surprise. Or, could we break our way
By force, and at our heels all Hell should rise
With blackest insurrection to confound
Heaven’s purest light, yet our great Enemy,
All incorruptible, would on his throne
Sit unpolluted, and th’ ethereal mould,
Incapable of stain, would soon expel
Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire,
Victorious. Thus repulsed, our final hope
Is flat despair: we must exasperate
Th’ Almighty Victor to spend all his rage;
And that must end us; that must be our cure—
To be no more. Sad cure! for who would lose,
Though full of pain, this intellectual being,
Those thoughts that wander through eternity,
To perish rather, swallowed up and lost
In the wide womb of uncreated Night,
Devoid of sense and motion? And who knows,
Let this be good, whether our angry Foe
Can give it, or will ever? How he can
Is doubtful; that he never will is sure.
Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire,
Belike through impotence or unaware,
To give his enemies their wish, and end
Them in his anger whom his anger saves
To punish endless? “Wherefore cease we, then?”
Say they who counsel war; “we are decreed,
Reserved, and destined to eternal woe;
Whatever doing, what can we suffer more,
What can we suffer worse?” Is this, then, worst—
Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms?
What when we fled amain, pursued and struck
With Heaven’s afflicting thunder, and besought
The Deep to shelter us? This Hell then seemed
A refuge from those wounds. Or when we lay
Chained on the burning lake? That sure was worse.
What if the breath that kindled those grim fires,
Awaked, should blow them into sevenfold rage,
And plunge us in the flames; or from above
Should intermitted vengeance arm again
His red right hand to plague us? What if all
Her stores were opened, and this firmament
Of Hell should spout her cataracts of fire,
Impendent horrors, threatening hideous fall
One day upon our heads; while we perhaps,
Designing or exhorting glorious war,
Caught in a fiery tempest, shall be hurled,
Each on his rock transfixed, the sport and prey
Or racking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk
Under yon boiling ocean, wrapt in chains,
There to converse with everlasting groans,
Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved,
Ages of hopeless end? This would be worse.
War, therefore, open or concealed, alike
My voice dissuades; for what can force or guile
With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye
Views all things at one view? He from Heaven’s height
All these our motions vain sees and derides,
Not more almighty to resist our might
Than wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles.
Shall we, then, live thus vile—the race of Heaven
Thus trampled, thus expelled, to suffer here
Chains and these torments? Better these than worse,
By my advice; since fate inevitable
Subdues us, and omnipotent decree,
The Victor’s will. To suffer, as to do,
Our strength is equal; nor the law unjust
That so ordains. This was at first resolved,
If we were wise, against so great a foe
Contending, and so doubtful what might fall.
I laugh when those who at the spear are bold
And venturous, if that fail them, shrink, and fear
What yet they know must follow—to endure
Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain,
The sentence of their Conqueror. This is now
Our doom; which if we can sustain and bear,
Our Supreme Foe in time may much remit
His anger, and perhaps, thus far removed,
Not mind us not offending, satisfied
With what is punished; whence these raging fires
Will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames.
Our purer essence then will overcome
Their noxious vapour; or, inured, not feel;
Or, changed at length, and to the place conformed
In temper and in nature, will receive
Familiar the fierce heat; and, void of pain,
This horror will grow mild, this darkness light;
Besides what hope the never-ending flight
Of future days may bring, what chance, what change
Worth waiting—since our present lot appears
For happy though but ill, for ill not worst,
If we procure not to ourselves more woe.I’ve posted this here not only because it seems topical, but also because it contains a phrase associated with a TV drama series that I’ve been watching on DVD. Feel free to offer a guess of the name of the series through the comments box.
#Belial #JohnMilton #literature #Pandaemonium #ParadiseLost #Poetry #Satan -
Belial Speaks…
This is an excerpt from Book 2 of Paradise Lost by John Milton. Belial (a fallen angel) is speaking at a “Consultation” held in Pandemonium chaired by Satan (i.e. a meeting of the local Governing Authority):
I should be much for open war, O Peers,
As not behind in hate, if what was urged
Main reason to persuade immediate war
Did not dissuade me most, and seem to cast
Ominous conjecture on the whole success;
When he who most excels in fact of arms,
In what he counsels and in what excels
Mistrustful, grounds his courage on despair
And utter dissolution, as the scope
Of all his aim, after some dire revenge.
First, what revenge? The towers of Heaven are filled
With armed watch, that render all access
Impregnable: oft on the bordering Deep
Encamp their legions, or with obscure wing
Scout far and wide into the realm of Night,
Scorning surprise. Or, could we break our way
By force, and at our heels all Hell should rise
With blackest insurrection to confound
Heaven’s purest light, yet our great Enemy,
All incorruptible, would on his throne
Sit unpolluted, and th’ ethereal mould,
Incapable of stain, would soon expel
Her mischief, and purge off the baser fire,
Victorious. Thus repulsed, our final hope
Is flat despair: we must exasperate
Th’ Almighty Victor to spend all his rage;
And that must end us; that must be our cure—
To be no more. Sad cure! for who would lose,
Though full of pain, this intellectual being,
Those thoughts that wander through eternity,
To perish rather, swallowed up and lost
In the wide womb of uncreated Night,
Devoid of sense and motion? And who knows,
Let this be good, whether our angry Foe
Can give it, or will ever? How he can
Is doubtful; that he never will is sure.
Will he, so wise, let loose at once his ire,
Belike through impotence or unaware,
To give his enemies their wish, and end
Them in his anger whom his anger saves
To punish endless? “Wherefore cease we, then?”
Say they who counsel war; “we are decreed,
Reserved, and destined to eternal woe;
Whatever doing, what can we suffer more,
What can we suffer worse?” Is this, then, worst—
Thus sitting, thus consulting, thus in arms?
What when we fled amain, pursued and struck
With Heaven’s afflicting thunder, and besought
The Deep to shelter us? This Hell then seemed
A refuge from those wounds. Or when we lay
Chained on the burning lake? That sure was worse.
What if the breath that kindled those grim fires,
Awaked, should blow them into sevenfold rage,
And plunge us in the flames; or from above
Should intermitted vengeance arm again
His red right hand to plague us? What if all
Her stores were opened, and this firmament
Of Hell should spout her cataracts of fire,
Impendent horrors, threatening hideous fall
One day upon our heads; while we perhaps,
Designing or exhorting glorious war,
Caught in a fiery tempest, shall be hurled,
Each on his rock transfixed, the sport and prey
Or racking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk
Under yon boiling ocean, wrapt in chains,
There to converse with everlasting groans,
Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved,
Ages of hopeless end? This would be worse.
War, therefore, open or concealed, alike
My voice dissuades; for what can force or guile
With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye
Views all things at one view? He from Heaven’s height
All these our motions vain sees and derides,
Not more almighty to resist our might
Than wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles.
Shall we, then, live thus vile—the race of Heaven
Thus trampled, thus expelled, to suffer here
Chains and these torments? Better these than worse,
By my advice; since fate inevitable
Subdues us, and omnipotent decree,
The Victor’s will. To suffer, as to do,
Our strength is equal; nor the law unjust
That so ordains. This was at first resolved,
If we were wise, against so great a foe
Contending, and so doubtful what might fall.
I laugh when those who at the spear are bold
And venturous, if that fail them, shrink, and fear
What yet they know must follow—to endure
Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain,
The sentence of their Conqueror. This is now
Our doom; which if we can sustain and bear,
Our Supreme Foe in time may much remit
His anger, and perhaps, thus far removed,
Not mind us not offending, satisfied
With what is punished; whence these raging fires
Will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames.
Our purer essence then will overcome
Their noxious vapour; or, inured, not feel;
Or, changed at length, and to the place conformed
In temper and in nature, will receive
Familiar the fierce heat; and, void of pain,
This horror will grow mild, this darkness light;
Besides what hope the never-ending flight
Of future days may bring, what chance, what change
Worth waiting—since our present lot appears
For happy though but ill, for ill not worst,
If we procure not to ourselves more woe.I’ve posted this here not only because it seems topical, but also because it contains a phrase associated with a TV drama series that I’ve been watching on DVD. Feel free to offer a guess of the name of the series through the comments box.
#Belial #JohnMilton #literature #Pandaemonium #ParadiseLost #Poetry #Satan -
Paradise Lost
Paradise Regained
- John Milton
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Paradise Lost
Paradise Regained
- John Milton
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Vince is back with our #WeeklyPicks in time for your weekend reading!
𝗛𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 ✨
A Book You’ve Been Meaning To Read: The Underground Railroad by #ColsonWhitehead
The Engine House by #RhysDylan ( #DCIEvanWarlow Series)
How We Learn by #StanislasDehaene
The Cleaner by #MarkDawson ( #JohnMilton Series)
The Mothers by #BritBennettRead all of Vince’s picks online at our site. 📚
🔗 Link in Comments #bookstodon
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Vince is back with our #WeeklyPicks in time for your weekend reading!
𝗛𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝘀 ✨
A Book You’ve Been Meaning To Read: The Underground Railroad by #ColsonWhitehead
The Engine House by #RhysDylan ( #DCIEvanWarlow Series)
How We Learn by #StanislasDehaene
The Cleaner by #MarkDawson ( #JohnMilton Series)
The Mothers by #BritBennettRead all of Vince’s picks online at our site. 📚
🔗 Link in Comments #bookstodon
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Milton's Cottage, Chalfont St Giles, Bucks, c.1910s - HG Stone RP Postcard
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Milton's Cottage, Chalfont St Giles, Bucks, c.1910s - HG Stone RP Postcard
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Visiting the Frankenstein exhibition in Selfridge's and they've got a first edition of Paradise Lost on display (among many other cool things). #maryshelley #johnmilton #paradiselost #frankenstein
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Visiting the Frankenstein exhibition in Selfridge's and they've got a first edition of Paradise Lost on display (among many other cool things). #maryshelley #johnmilton #paradiselost #frankenstein
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This part really stuck with me while doing an immersive read of Paradise Lost tonight.
@bookstodon @reading #classiclit #ClassicLiterature #fiction #johnmilton #literature
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These were the weeks in 1649 when #JohnMilton was writing the tenure of #kings and #magistrates pointing out that many #people love a #tyrant because they love not #freedom but #license which never hath more scope or more indulgence than under #tyrants
https://t.me/crapitalism/252 -
'O, welcome, pure-eyed Faith, white-handed Hope,
Thou hovering angel, girt with golden wings!'
– MILTONExcerpt From
Daniel Deronda
George Eliot"The epigraph reflects the importance of maintaining faith and hope during moments of moral or emotional trial."
#danieDeronda #georgeEliot #milton #johnmilton #books #bookstodon #faith #hope #morality #ethics
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🔴 📖 🎥 **The HARDEST BOOK I Ever Read and ... How ANYONE Can Read It**
Rob Pirie - The Cause
_“The poem is written in blank verse in iambic pentameter. The poem makes music when read correctly which allows the poem to have a charm and enchantment I have never experienced in any other book.”_
#Video length: six minutes and forty-three seconds.
🔗 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nFikiP4g-f8
#English #Poetry #Literature #JohnMilton #Milton #Read #Reading #Book #Books #Bookstodon @poetry @literature @bookstodon
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The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.
-- John Milton -
Lera Auerbach: Lost Paradise Regained
The Russian Lera Auerbach (1973) does not shy away from major challenges. And that is an understatement. Recently she made a big impression with her cycle Goetia 72: in umbra lucis, a setting of the names of 72 demons for the Netherlands Chamber Choir and Quatuor Danel. At the same time a CD appeared with 72 Angels: in splendore lucis, in which she set 72 names of angels for the same choir and the Raschèr Saxophone Quartet.
Her music often has a spiritual element. In addition to the above-mentioned full-length choral cycles she composed impressive works such as Dialogues on Stabat Mater (2005); the large-scale Requiem: Ode to Peace (2012) and the forty-minute Violin Concerto De profundis (2015).
Auerbach regularly spices up her music with electronic instruments such as the theremin and the ondes martenot. Both were developed in the 1920s and produce an otherworldly sound midway between a human voice, a singing saw and a violin. Thus making it the ideal musical representative of her often esoteric subject matter.
In 2011 Auerbach made her debut in the Friday concert series with ‘ordinary’ instruments when the Radio Chamber Orchestra played her Serenade for a Melancholic Sea for violin, piano, cello and string orchestra. In 2019 she composed Evas Klage, a joint commission from RSO Wien, Baltimore Symphony Orchestra and AVROTROS Vrijdagconcert. This will have its Dutch premiere on 28 February with the Radio Philharmonic Orchestra conducted by their brand new chief Karina Canellakis. The previous night they will present a foretaste in the series Pieces of Tomorrow.
In Evas Klage, too, the ondes martenot play a major role. A thunderous orchestral introduction is succeeded by softly wailing sounds, like the weeping of a desperate ghost. The wistfully descending and ascending lines of the ondes martenot run like a thread through the piece. You automatically associate this with the voice of Eva, who is lamenting her fate. Regularly the orchestra tries to silence the fragile whimpering with ferocious outbursts of brass and percussion.
The sometimes violent atmosphere is explained by the subtitle: O Blumen, die niemals blühen werden. Auerbach quotes this verse from Paradise Lost by John Milton in German, because the first performance took place in Vienna. For the composer, this sentence symbolises the oppression of women throughout the centuries. Rarely, if ever, did they have the opportunity to develop their talents: their voices were stifled.
In Evas Klage, the ondes martenot – Eve’s voice – is continuously in danger of going under. But towards the end her singing ascends to heaven, leaving the orchestra behind on earth. Yet there is not only doom and gloom, for Auerbach weaves fragments of early music through her score. Both reference Henry Purcell.
Quite in the beginning we hear a quotation of his witty song What Can We Poor Females Do? To which an answer comes in the form of the well-known Music for a While. The message: the ladies may enjoy themselves with music. – Be it only as a momentary diversion.
The ethereal finale leaves no doubt that this Eve won’t be bullied into making ‘music for a while’. She brilliantly overcomes all obstacles, as is powerfully illustrated by a constantly rising melodic line at the end. ‘Perhaps the answer is to rise, to stay above, to remain above it all’ writes Auerbach. Thus we may keep a glimpse of the lost paradise, ‘as the inner light of childhood when the world was still undefined and everything was possible’.
Eve frees herself from her subordinate place ‘in umbra lucis’ – in the shadow of light, and self-confidently chooses a place ‘in splendore lucis’ – in bright light. In doing so she turns her lost paradise into a paradise regained.
The reviews of the world premiere in Vienna in October 2019 were unanimously laudatory. ‘The piece has a motivic richness that is both intellectually and sensually accessible’, opined the Wiener Zeitung. I wholeheartedly agree. – Hope to see you at the concert!
#AVROTROSVrijdagconcert #JohnMilton #KarinaCanellakis #LeraAuerbach #ParadiseLost #PiecesOfTomorrow #RadioFilharmonischOrkest