Sophie Lynne Creations

The release of Paradise Lost in 1667 took the world by storm and continued to be highly regarded as the centuries progressed. John Milton, publishing his last two poems in 1671, then died in 1674 and the study of his work lived on. One of these last poems was Samson Agonistes, which retold the Book of Judge’s biblical story of Samson’s last day. Milton, as he always did, added some of his own interpretation and story-telling, thus often revealing his opinions, the politics of the time, connections to his other works, and connections to others’ works. Samson Agonistes can be read in moments as a conglomeration of Milton’s past writing, and in other moments as simply a powerful story with ideas that put a lot at stake during the seventeenth century. Working through the poem reveals groupings of certain themes that help solidify our understanding of Milton’s characterization of God, Satan, and everyone in between. 

One of the most prominent concepts to track in Samson Agonistes is ‘free-will’ versus ‘God’s plan.’ Reading the poem, it becomes surprisingly easy to gather that there are many moments in which God seems, frankly, mean. Most characters in the poem, except Samson as we will see, are baffled as to why God would be this harsh with his followers. The Chorus, which is an interesting combination of objective and subjective commentary, relays that there are plenty of people that resonate with this bafflement. They explain that many feel God is “to his own edicts, found contradicting” and how He “made our Laws to bind us, not himself” (301, 309). Many felt that God was hypocritical in this way. This is an example of a time that readers feel Milton may be writing about himself, as he was often considered self-contradicting in many of his writings. More central than that, though, is the indignation that Samson’s father, for example, feels towards this “unfair” God: “Why are his gifts desirable, to tempt / Our earnest Prayers, then giv’n with solemn hand / As Graces, draw a Scorpions tail behind?” (358-360). In other words, why does God grant us amazing things and then hurt us with the same hand? Even Samson sometimes reflects on God’s harshness, though he mostly defends Him, as readers will notice. Samson acknowledges that God “hath cast me off as never known” and that “[Man] Set God behind: which in his jealousie / Shall never, unrepented, find forgiveness” (641, 1375-1376). Despite Samson’s sadness, Milton makes it extremely clear that Samson spends the entire poem defending God. 

Samson works tirelessly to take the blame off of God and heap it onto himself, relentlessly stating that he is the “Sole Author” and “sole cause” of his downfall (376). This choice to accept blame reminds readers of the way Adam accepted his fair share of blame in being persuaded by Eve to eat the apple– he specifies that he was “not deceived” (Paradise Lost, 9.998). Samson feels that he shall “As [he] deserve[s], pay on [his] punishment” (489), even though his father tells him to stop being so hard on himself (507-508). Samson does not take anyone’s advice to “relax” and instead leans harder into his faith in God. When challenged to a petty fight, Samson feels that the heckler’s material protection (1120) is no match for his God-issued protection (1140). Here, Milton quickly embeds the poem’s second judgment of arms, the first appearing as “Made arms ridiculous” in line 131. Milton’s denouncement of arms and battles gently scorns Greek epics’ focus on them, such as Virgil’s The Aeneid. Since this heckler character “Harapha” was created by Milton, readers may infer that Milton’s use of this character was simply to make Samson enact impressive confidence in the face of “ridiculous” arms (which he did). 

In terms of image, there is one body part that can be traced throughout Milton’s works as representative of this ‘free-will’ versus ‘God’s plan’ opposition: the hand. In Paradise Lost, Satan asserts that “our own right hand / Shall teach us highest deeds,” emphasizing his belief in the value of individualism (Paradise Lost, 5.864). This individualism, at least in a loose sense, relates to the idea of free-will through the emphasis of self-initiated action. We see this hand image appear in other moments of Paradise Lost, such as when God’s son is described as seated at his right hand (Paradise Lost, 3.279). Readers also see Nature’s “superfluous hand” (8.27) and God’s “hands so liberal” (8.362). In Samson Agonistes as well, readers notice hands in the language as emblematic of agency. Samson remarks that God acts towards man with “hand so various, / Or might I say contrarious,” pointing to our past discussion of God’s unpredictable roughness. Samson even highlights Harapha’s agency when he describes the choice to fight as “in thy [Harapha’s] hand” (1105). Additionally, Manoa urges Samson to “let another hand, not thine, exact / Thy penal forfeit from thy self” (507-508). This hand imagery comes to a climax towards the end of the poem, when a messenger recounts Samson’s death (which will be later discussed). Samson’s father, Manoa, asks “What glorious hand gave Samson his deaths wound?” to which the messenger clarifies that Samson died “By his own hands” (1581, 1584). So, ultimately, even though hands were symbolic of a personal agency, they were intertwined with religious devotion as Samson used his hands in an attempt to honor God. It remains slightly unclear as to whether Milton thinks that doing things by one’s own hand is the right way. A middle ground seems like the most Miltonic option; a full individualism was deemed Satanic, and yet an individualism that still considers one’s connection with God ends up being praised as heroic. 

Touch (hands) is not the only corporal, sensory theme that emerges in Milton’s work– another is hearing (ears). In Paradise Lost, one main association with ears comes from the scene with Satan and Eve in the Garden of Eden, about which Eve had dreamt. Satan is “Squat like a Toad, close at the eare of Eve; / Assaying by his Devilish art” to tempt her (Paradise Lost, 4.800-801). Another instance that places emphasis on hearing is when Eve is called away from her reflection by the voice, not the image, of God (Paradise Lost, 4.476). Both of these instances of hearing are interesting in relation to Samson Agonistes. Firstly, Samson strains to hear any outside noise as he’s locked away in solidarity: “I hear the sound of words, thir sense the air / Dissolves unjointed e’re it reach my ear” (176-177). This reliance on listening (due to Samson’s blindness) is part of what makes the isolation so miserable. Later in the poem, Dalila (Samson’s back-stabbing wife) describes how a Priest was “at [her] ear” convincing her to betray Samson for her own people (858). This reminds us of Satan at Eve’s ear, thus comparing a Priest to Satan. This is not the only dig at Catholicism that readers will see as the poem progresses. Towards the end of the poem, hearing once again acts as an important informer. Manoa hears the ruckus of Samson killing the Philistines, and both he and the Chorus have to form inferences from this noise before the messenger comes to inform them of the events. Milton’s choice to have the drama happen “out of sight” exemplifies his aim to model Greek writing styles, which often recount the major scenes instead of showing them. However, I would argue that Milton still indulged in some drama as the messenger built suspense, “The sight of this so horrid spectacle” (1542). The question becomes, then, whether Milton’s choice to include an invisible, auditory God tends towards Greek drama or towards omnipotence as a rationale.

As readers wrestle with the concepts of free-will, God’s plan, and corporal significance, Samson continues to defend and explain God’s tendencies. Hence, the theme of justification surfaces. The framing of Paradise Lost was stated as Milton aiming to “justify the ways of God to men” (Paradise Lost, 1.26). As we have seen in Samson Agonistes, Samson is also justifying the ways of God to the people around him that are more dubious. Once Samson dies, his father displays this propensity as well, justifying (God’s “decision” of) Samson’s death: “but death who sets all free” (1572). Not only is Samson justifying the ways of God, but he also seems to justify the ways of Milton to men. Because of some shared similarities between Samson and Milton, it often seems that Milton is addressing his personal insecurities through his Samson character. Firstly, Milton and Samson are both blind, and understandably both upset about it. Just as Milton reflects on “how [his] light is spent,” (Sonnet 19) Samson reflects on his newfound weakness. What I find incredibly humorous, though, is when Samson articulates how he doubts God would “use [him] now, blind and thereby / Deceiveable” (941-942). The humor and irony lie in the fact that we know how “deceiveable” Samson was even before he was rendered blind; he was fooled by not one but both of his wives and is therefore depicted as not the brightest, despite his strength. So, perhaps being blind is not a huge deal after all? Regardless, another way in which Samson depicts Milton’s inner feelings is through allusions to divorce. Milton famously wrote a Doctrine and Discipline of Divorce in 1643 in an attempt to justify his own divorces as a Christian man. In Samson Agonistes, Samson also struggles with two wives that have turned out to be “bad fits” for him. He insists on this justification, explaining “to wisest men and best” that marriage may seem “at first all heavenly under virgin veil, /… / Once join’d, the contrary she proves, a thorn / Intestin” (1034-1038). It is here that the characterization of Samson as a depiction of Milton’s personal struggles is truly solidified. 

As much as Samson Agonistes includes focus on male characters, it would be impossible to write about the poem without an investigation of gender’s role in the poem. Part of what makes Samson so mad about his fall is that it was caused (twice) by a woman. There is an abundance of evidence showing that Samson’s opinion of women is that they are wicked. He describes women’s influence as a horrible kind of magical power, like “over-potent charms,” and “riddle[s]”  (427, 1016). More sexist characterization is employed, as women are described as unable to keep secrets (776-777) and as too pretty to have God spend an adequate amount of time on their “inward gifts” (1026). When we zoom out, though, we remember crucially that it was women who were able to so successfully out-smart Samson twice. Could Milton actually be using this fact in an attempt to be secretly feminist and mock Samson? Perhaps it could be read as feminist for female characters to be smart enough and actionable enough to be hated. This blurry sense of who readers are supposed to support versus despise is emblematic of how Satan is depicted in Paradise Lost. Since so much of Paradise Lost is spent through the perspective of Satan, readers are often tempted to side with him. So, it seems important to be able to identify which character in Samson Agonistes maps onto Satan most neatly. 

The race for the title of Satan, between Dalila and Samson, is really quite tight. In many ways, Dalila may represent Satan. The obvious parallel is that since Eve was deceived by Satan, and Samson was deceived by Dalila, then Dalila is therefore Satan. There is ample evidence to support this avenue of thought. When Dalila returns to ask Samson for his forgiveness, she uses three clear arguments, just as Satan had used three clear arguments to convince Eve to eat the apple (Paradise Lost, Book 9). In turn, Dalila also blamed the Philistines for using “powerful arguments” to convince her to destroy her husband’s strength (862). There is a certain emphasis placed on logic, then, that links Dalila (and perhaps the Philistines) to Satan. Even more clear are the literal, linguistic references to Delila as a “snake” and a “serpent” (763, 997). 

There are also, however, instances in which Samson feels more similar to Satan. Samson spends much of the poem lamenting his fall, which Satan did in Paradise Lost as well: “O Sun, to tell thee how I hate thy beams / That bring to my remembrance from what state / I fell, how glorious once above thy Spheare; / Till Pride and worse Ambition threw me down” (Paradise Lost, 4.37-40). This lament sounds quite similar, even in syntax, to Samson’s lament: “O that torment should not be confin’d / To the bodies wounds and sores” (606) and even Manoa’s co-lamenting, “O miserable change!” (340). Another way that one could view Samson as a type of Satan is due to Samson’s fair share of deception as well. When plotting to kill the Philistines, he complained he was “over-tir’d” and convinced the guard “to let him lean a while / With both his arms on those two massie Pillars,” which was then how Samson killed the Philistines (1632-1633). Although this deception was not as obvious as Satan’s shape-shifting, for example, it was still a weaponized lie. There is one other moment of note, though, in which Samson is compared to God rather than to Satan. Though the link is indirect, when Samson refuses to forgive Dalila, she exclaims that he’s “deaf / To prayers” (960-961). This small comment momentarily reminds us of how people often feel that God is deaf to their prayers (which is why Samson is working to justify God’s ways to us).

Breaking briefly from the heavy religious implications of the poem, Milton embeds a fairly healthy, human-like, positive father-son relationship. Recognizing that this theme may feel modernized or out-of-place, there was a rather large emphasis placed on paternal love throughout this poem. When Samson is recounting Dalila’s betrayal, Manoa comments, “I cannot praise they Marriage choices, Son, / Rather approv’d them not,” which, colloquialized, is the common ‘I told you she was bad news.’ He also though, as previously discussed, lovingly tells Samson not to be so hard on himself and to not give up hope (507-508). Manoa is also depicted as loving when he is willing to become poor in order to live life with his son (1479). (On the topic of this ransom, Milton enjoys also slipping in another dig at Priests for being corrupt: “Contemptuous, proud, set on revenge and spite; / That part most reverenc’d Dagon and his Priests, / Others more moderate seeming, but thir aim / Private reward” (1462-1465).) Other displays of this paternal love are through Manoa’s (hypothetical) devotion to “tend [Samson’s] eyes” (1490) and to “build him / A Monument” (1733-1734). This healthy father-son relationship is an interesting entity to consider along the topic of gender. This paternal love seems to bend the gender norms of the maternal, nurturing love this is so often indicated, as also seen through common religious framings of God as a sort of mother. 

Aside from love and gender, the theme of repentance was also on Milton’s mind, along with many others’ at the time. Although the sense is that God is somewhat of a purposeful mystery, there are always inferences to be made about how to be absolved and forgiven by God. The norm in Samson Agonistes, at least, is to hold out hope for redemption. Manoa wonders if “perhaps / God will relent” (508-509), whereas Samson agrees but is more focused on the here-and-now, “His pardon I implore; but as for life, / To what end should I seek it?” (521-522). Samson is slightly confused how he should carry out his life and what God ‘wants him to do,’ which were feelings shared by countless English people in the seventeenth-century. Manoa later reflects that if Samson’s gift of strength is returned by God, he hopes Samson will be sent on some mission to do “some great service” with it and “Not to sit idle with so great a gift” (1499-1500). Milton was not the only one exploring this idea at the time; Shakespeare had published Hamlet in 1609 containing Hamlet’s famous line, “Sure, he that made us with such large discourse, looking before and after, gave us not that capability and god-like reason to fust in us unused” (Ham. 4.4.35-38). This once again shows the anxiety at the time surrounding what to do with God’s “gifts.” Each religious branch of the seventeenth-century had their own ideas about the answer to that question. 

Milton’s religious inclinations were a sort of Protestant antinomianism, generally focused on personal piety, individual relationships with the Bible and God, liberty, free-will, and grace. Taking an antinomian approach to the constant religious-political debates, Milton famously wrote (about duty towards God), “They also serve who only stand and wait” (Sonnet 19, Line 14). This approach can seem to de-emphasize action since God’s grace will ultimately be given to everyone, even those that do not do anything special for Him. In Samson Agonistes, Samson originally has a hard time internalizing this when he became blind and lost his strength: “To what can I be useful, wherein serve / My Nation, and the work from Heav’n impos’d, / But to sit idle on the household hearth” (564-566). As the poem progresses, though, Samson leans into the idea of patience, which is defined importantly as the “truest fortitude,” though it is understandably hard to practice when one is full of “grief and anxious thought” (654, 659). The Chorus reinforces the importance of patience, and readers may get the sense that Milton is sharing his religious opinions when he writes, “patience is more oft the exercise / Of Saints, the trail of thir fortitude, / Making them each his own Deliverer, / And Victor over all” (1287-1290). This phrasing supports the antinomian concept of each man becoming his own ruler, in a sense, and thus removing emphasis from a monarchical system. As we saw Samson explore his free-will versus God’s plan, his decisions in the poem can be dissected and politically analyzed. Many of his actions, I posit, may be slightly nuanced and messy, not mapping perfectly onto one concept. Samson follows God’s word as a strict law, “Our Law forbids… My presence; for that cause I cannot come” (1320-1321). Also, many of Samson’s final decisions are that of action: “By some great act, or of my days the last” (1389). Yet, it does not seem like these moments of action de-legitimize the action that is embedded in patience. Samson’s willingness to wait for God to make whatever decisions He may make is ultimately an impressive type of action by inaction. It is this patience that the Chorus praises so directly, acknowledging the strength it takes to stand and to wait.

The end of the poem, Samson’s death, contains a helpful culmination of some political and religious themes. Firstly, Milton seems to want readers to gather that God only re-gifted Samson his strength because he was so patient and he never abandoned his faith in God. In terms of a moral-of-the-story, this comes pretty close. Secondly, it is of massive importance to distinguish what type of Philistines Samson killed. It is explicitly stated that he targeted the “Lords, Ladies, Captains, Councellors, or Priests,” so, in other words, the higher-ups of society (1653). This can be read as a Protestant statement about disbanding the “middle-men” of the Church and emphasizing personal relationships with God. This also potentially helps preserve the readers’ admiration for Samson, since he isn’t depicted as killing innocent civilians. Rather, he “frees” these lower-class people, technically by annihilating their rulers. Focusing now on the precise way that Samson killed these Philistines, we enter a consideration of the numbers 1 and 2. Since Samson died by the same act that killed his enemies (“At once both to destroy and be destroy’d), this, in a way, unites them (1587). Because of this unification, we think of the number 1, even though there are many that make up this united 1. Even when the Semichorus emphasized that the Philistines “As thir own ruin on themselves to invite,” this actually maps onto Samson’s “invitation” of his own death as well (1684). In this way as well, they are united. The way that this 1 came to be is through the destruction of the 2– the two pillars. One must be careful to not read Samson’s abolition of the 2 and resolution to the 1 as pro-monarchy, despite the connotation of the number 1. This does not seem to be Milton’s conclusion, as he was well-known to be anti-monarchist. Instead, I pose that Samson destroyed the concepts of fancy buildings, middle-men, churches, and embellishments that corrupted the true essence of religion. Samson’s goal was to bring each person in touch with their individual self, another important 1, which maps more logically onto Milton’s principles. Embedded within this 1, this self, is ideally God. God is the one and only true God. Samson seemed to harness this inner religion, praying as he was about to die (1637). This temporal act was said to grant access to Heaven, as also seen in Hamlet, when Hamlet refused to kill Claudius while he was praying (Ham. 3.3.73-79). The harnessing of religion, even in the face of death, is not a devotion that was matched by the elite Philistines– they were being gluttonous, feasting on food, wine, and “Idolatry” before they died (1670). 

Although Samson does come across as a hero (at least for his side) by the end of this poem, there exist notes of hypocrisy and moral blurriness within many characters and moments. This matches Milton’s tendency to explore nuance and welcome free-thinking. Readers may view Samson as Satanic, through his deception and murder, or as heroic. Readers may view Dalila as Satanic, through her lying and betrayal, or as a feminist. Perhaps drastic action will seem to be the best choice for some in their religious journeys, or perhaps for others a sort of devoted inaction. Some may be convinced by Samson’s justifications of God, while some may still be dubious and unable to practice patience. Ultimately, Milton seems to acknowledge that the beauty lies in letting us each be our own “Saints” (1288). Whether blind and shackled or gifted and powerful, Milton and his characters explore their religion amid a backdrop of seventeenth-century England and, eventually, the modern world.

Bibliography:

Milton, John, and Gordon Teskey. Paradise Lost. 1667. New York, N.Y., W. W. Norton & Company, 2005.

Milton, John. “Samson Agonistes.” Paradise Regained; A Poem in IV Books; To Which is Added Samson Agonistes (II ed.). London: John Starkey at the Mittre in Fleetstreet, near Temple Bar, 1671.

Shakespeare, William, et al. The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark. 1603. New York, Simon & Schuster Paperbacks, 2012.