curse you, Milton, and bless you, too
Milton’s an enigma. I’m currently bludgeoning my head against the poetic edifice of his creation, masochistically. Yes. I am enjoying it. Learning from it. Little else can be said currently. Fifteen pages later and I’ll be through to the other side, emerging with a different mind. We’ve a fascinatingly complex relationship, Milton and I, and I’ll categorize it merely by stating–truthfully–that I’m enjoying the struggle he puts up against analysis.
