
Celebrate Creativity
This podcast is a deep dive into the world of creativity - from Edgar Allan Poe and Walt Whitman to understanding the use of basic AI principles in a fun and practical way.
Celebrate Creativity
Darkness Visible
"Darkness visible — a phrase that captures the paradox of John Milton’s life: eventual blindness in body, yet vision without bounds in the mind.”
"Imagine a world gone dark — yet in that darkness, a man named John Milton could see more clearly than anyone else."
John Milton grew up with privilege, expectation, and a mind hungry for knowledge. His father, a scrivener, provided tutors, music lessons, and an education that would prepare him for greatness. From an early age, Milton believed he was destined for immortality.
Yet life would test him. He faced political upheaval, personal loss, and eventually, blindness. By the early 1650s, at just forty-three, Milton could no longer see.
Blindness for Milton was more than a physical loss; it demanded dependence on others and challenged his sense of independence. And yet, in that darkness, he created some of the greatest works in English literature.
From the epic grandeur of Paradise Lost to the quiet triumph of Paradise Regained, Milton’s inner vision never dimmed. And in this episode, we’ll also explore how his phrase “darkness visible” has echoed across centuries, influencing writers and poets long after his time.
Thank you for experiencing Celebrate Creativity.
"Darkness visible — a phrase that captures the paradox of John Milton’s life: eventual blindness in body, yet vision without bounds in the mind.”
"Imagine a world gone dark — yet in that darkness, a man named John Milton could see more clearly than anyone else."
John Milton grew up with privilege, expectation, and a mind hungry for knowledge. His father, a scrivener, provided tutors, music lessons, and an education that would prepare him for greatness. From an early age, Milton believed he was destined for immortality.
Yet life would test him. He faced political upheaval, personal loss, and eventually, blindness. By the early 1650s, at just forty-three, Milton could no longer see.
Blindness for Milton was more than a physical loss; it demanded dependence on others and challenged his sense of independence. And yet, in that darkness, he created some of the greatest works in English literature.
From the epic grandeur of Paradise Lost to the quiet triumph of Paradise Regained, Milton’s inner vision never dimmed. And in this episode, we’ll also explore how his phrase “darkness visible” has echoed across centuries, influencing writers and poets long after his time.
"Darkness visible — a phrase that captures the paradox of John Milton’s life: blindness in body, yet vision without bounds in the mind.”
So lean back, and let’s step into the world of John Milton — where darkness became a canvas, and imagination, the brightest light.
John Milton was born in 1608 in Bread Street, London (ironically, near the Mermaid Tavern where Shakespeare and Ben Jonson’s crowd once gathered).
He studied at St Paul’s School and then Cambridge University, where he immersed himself in languages, philosophy, and theology.
Even as a teenager, he was determined to be a poet of immortal renown. He actually wrote in his notebooks that he was “destined for greatness.” (Not a modest man.)
After Cambridge, he didn’t rush into a career — instead, he spent six years at his father’s country house in Horton reading, writing, and preparing himself for literary greatness.
In 1638, Milton toured France and Italy, meeting scholars and artists — even Galileo (who was then under house arrest - Galileo not Milton).
This encounter was profound: Milton later called Galileo the “Tuscan artist” in Paradise Lost, linking science and poetry at a time when both were under suspicion. And then Milton returned to England just as the country was boiling toward civil war.
He plunged into pamphleteering, becoming a fierce advocate for Puritanism, republicanism, and free speech. His Areopagitica (1644) is still one of the most famous defenses of freedom of the press. He became Latin Secretary to Oliver Cromwell, essentially the government’s propaganda writer to Europe.
And Milton married three times. His first wife, Mary Powell, was only 16 when they wed; she fled back to her Royalist family within weeks, leaving Milton humiliated. They reconciled later, but her desertion inspired his fiery pamphlets in defense of divorce. Tragedy struck again: his first wife died in childbirth, and later two more wives also died young. Milton fathered several children but had strained relationships with them, especially his daughters.
Blindness
Around 1652, Milton became completely blind (likely due to glaucoma). He was only in his early forties.
From then on, he dictated his works, most famously Paradise Lost, largely to his daughters. His blindness gave his poetry its epic gravitas — the “darkness visible” of his own life became a metaphor for fallen humanity.
When Charles II was restored in 1660, Milton was in mortal danger. As a prominent Cromwellian propagandist, he could easily have been executed. He was arrested and briefly imprisoned but spared. Living quietly in seclusion, blind and widowed, Milton produced his masterpieces: Paradise Lost, Paradise Regained, and Samson Agonistes.
Now Paradise Lost and Paradise Regained are often treated like “part one” and “part two,” but in reality, they’re very different in scope, tone, and ambition. Milton was blind when he dictated both, and he knew he was writing his legacy. Here’s a deeper dive:
Paradise Lost (1667)
Scope & Story: An epic in 12 books, modeled on the ancient writers Homer and Virgil. Paradise lost Tells the cosmic story of Satan’s rebellion, his temptation of Adam and Eve, and humanity’s fall from Eden.
As for the style, it is Grand, sweeping, full of battle scenes, heavenly councils, and vast landscapes, and is written in stately blank verse.
The Themes are Free will vs. predestination.
The nature of evil and pride (Satan’s “Better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven” is the classic line).
Loss and exile — both cosmic (the Fall) and personal (Milton himself, exiled by blindness and politics).
Impact: It’s a tragic epic — Milton deliberately aimed to rival Homer’s Iliad and Virgil’s Aeneid. His goal: to “justify the ways of God to men.”
Paradise Regained (1671)
Scope & Story: A much shorter poem (4 books), almost austere in contrast. Instead of battles in Heaven and Earth, it focuses tightly on Christ’s temptation in the wilderness (from the Gospel of Luke).
Style: Lean, restrained, almost minimalist compared to Paradise Lost. The language is plain and the narrative simple: Christ resists Satan’s temptations one by one.
Themes:
True heroism as obedience and self-denial.
Victory through inner strength, not outer glory.
Where Adam failed in the garden, Christ succeeds in the desert.
Impact: More like a “quiet epic,” a philosophical dialogue. Some critics find it dry; others see it as Milton’s most mature theological statement.
Let me do a quick comparison and contrast of paradise lost and paradise regained
Paradise lost is a grand tragic epic, while paradise regained is more of a philosophical poem
Paradise lost is a sprawling narrative in 12 books, Paradise revisited is a tightly focused work and four books
It is ambiguous who the real hero of paradise lost is - is it Adam or is it Christ or is it even Satan - who often steals the stage
The hero of Paradise regained is clearly Christ, the obedient son
The hero of Paradise lost is satan who is portrayed as charismatic, defiant, tragic, and often more compelling than Adam who is shown as diminished, argumentative, frustrated, and even petty
the setting of Paradise Lost is heaven, hell, Eden, and the cosmos
The setting of Paradise regained is a desert wilderness
And the theme of Paradise lost is how humanity lost paradise through disobedience
The theme of a paradise one is how Paradise can be regained through obedience.
Paradise Lost is undeniably the greater work in terms of influence, scope, and literary fireworks. It’s the poem that secured Milton’s immortality.
Paradise Regained is subtler — almost anti-epic. Instead of thunderbolts, it argues that real strength lies in quiet steadfastness. In some ways, it anticipates modern ideas of the “anti-heroic.”
Readers have always been more drawn to Paradise Lost — partly because Milton makes Satan disturbingly charismatic, which gives the poem psychological depth. Paradise Regained, by contrast, feels cool, detached, and less dramatic. Yet it completes Milton’s vision: the Fall is answered not by war, but by obedience.
The Big Takeaway
Paradise Lost is about how we lost everything through pride and disobedience.
Paradise Regained is about how we gain it back — not through conquest, but through humility, patience, and faith.
They’re two sides of the same coin, but they mirror Milton himself: the fiery, revolutionary Milton of his youth (lost paradise) versus the blind, chastened Milton of his later years (regained paradise).
John Milton died in 1674, aged 65, still dictating poems and political writings. His burial was humble, but his reputation steadily grew. By the 18th century, he was considered one of England’s greatest poets, rivaling Shakespeare in influence.
Milton’s life is a fascinating mix of lofty ambition, personal suffering, and political risk — which mirrors his writing. He thought of himself not just as a poet but as a prophet, chosen to “justify the ways of God to men.”
Now remember, John Milton began losing his sight in the 1640s, while he was in the thick of political battles, writing furious pamphlets by candlelight. By 1652, in his early forties, he was completely blind.
He called it his “dark world and wide” — an image that captures both his loss of vision and his sense of being cast adrift after the collapse of his political hopes.
Blindness meant dependence, and for a proud, independent spirit like Milton, this was agony.
As previously mentioned, he had to rely on his daughters and other helpers to read to him and to take dictation. Accounts suggest his daughters often resented it, and he sometimes quarreled with them — you can imagine the frustration on both sides: the father demanding, the daughters weary.
Yet out of this darkness, he composed Paradise Lost, dictating passages of sublime vision while seeing nothing with his eyes.
Spiritual Meaning
Milton wrestled with his blindness in poetry. His sonnet “On His Blindness” is devastatingly moving:
He asks how he can serve God when “light is denied.”
He fears his “one talent” (his poetic gift) might be wasted, like the parable of the servant who buried his master’s coin.
But he ends with a quiet epiphany: “They also serve who only stand and wait.”
This line became one of the most famous expressions of patient faith in English literature — Milton found a way to transform his despair into acceptance.
When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodg'd with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest he returning chide,
"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies: "God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts: who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly; thousands at his bidding speed
And post o'er land and ocean without rest:
They also serve who only stand and wait.”
That closing line — “They also serve who only stand and wait” — has comforted generations of readers. It turns what could have been despair into quiet strength.
There is a great deal to unpack in that relatively brief sonnet - and I invite you to join me as we look at Milton’s words -
“When I consider how my light is spent, / Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,”
Milton begins by reflecting on his blindness. “Light” is both literal sight and the light of life. He’s only in his early 40s, not even halfway through his life, yet already trapped in a “dark world and wide.” It’s a cosmic image of isolation.
“And that one talent which is death to hide / Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent / To serve therewith my Maker, and present / My true account, lest He returning chide;”
Milton alludes to the biblical Parable of the Talents: burying your gift instead of using it is sinful. His “one talent” is poetry, but how can he serve God if he can’t see to write? He fears that when he meets God, he’ll be scolded for wasting his gift.
“Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?”
Here’s the raw, honest cry: Does God really demand work from me when He’s taken away my light? It’s almost accusatory, a moment of doubt.
“I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent / That murmur, soon replies:”
Milton imagines Patience as a voice within him, gently silencing his complaint before it becomes rebellion.
“God doth not need / Either man’s work or his own gifts; who best / Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best.”
The answer is startlingly simple: God doesn’t need Milton’s poems. What matters most is bearing life’s burdens faithfully. The true service is not dazzling accomplishments, but obedience and trust.
“His state / Is kingly: thousands at his bidding speed / And post o’er land and ocean without rest;”
God has plenty of angels, saints, and servants racing across the world. He doesn’t need Milton to be one more worker in that army.
“They also serve who only stand and wait.”
And now - The famous closing line. Service can also mean stillness, patience, waiting with faith. For Milton, this transforms his blindness: even in darkness, even without outward action, he can still serve.
This sonnet turns personal despair into spiritual acceptance. Milton goes from bitterness (“Why me, God?”) to serenity (“I can still serve, even by waiting”). And that journey — from doubt to peace — is what makes the poem timeless. Milton’s personal darkness echoes through the epic. The phrase “darkness visible” describes Hell, but it is also deeply personal: his own world had gone dark. [Pause 1 sec]. And yet, the poem achieves grandeur, tragedy, and profound insight into humanity, faith, and ambition.
Here is an irony - while Milton lost his physical sight, he became more of a visionary. His blindness forced him inward, into imagination, memory, and scripture — the “inward eye” became the wellspring of his epics. Dictating lines like “Hail, holy Light, offspring of Heaven first-born,” he gave voice to a cosmic vision only he could see.’
In other words, Paradise Lost — a vast epic of Heaven, Hell, and Eden — was created by a man sitting in darkness His blindness is not just a biographical detail: it becomes part of the poem’s meaning. “Darkness visible” (his phrase for Hell) was also the world he inhabited.
In fact, the phrase “darkness visible” has resonated far beyond Milton and has been echoed in later literature, often as an allusion to inner turmoil, evil, or overwhelming despair. Here are a few notable examples:
William Golding, Lord of the Flies (1954)
Golding uses imagery reminiscent of Paradise Lost when describing the chaos and moral darkness among the boys on the island. Some critics note that the phrase “darkness visible” is invoked conceptually, even if not verbatim, to highlight the evil that lurks within human nature.
Anthony Burgess — A Clockwork Orange (1962)
Critics have noted a Miltonic echo in the novel’s exploration of free will and the presence of evil.
T.S. Eliot — The Waste Land (1922)
Eliot never quotes Milton verbatim, but his depiction of spiritual desolation and fragmented human experience carries a Miltonic shadow.
Cormac McCarthy, The Road (2006)
McCarthy’s descriptions of a post-apocalyptic landscape evoke a Miltonic darkness — bleak, oppressive, and morally ambiguous. The phrase itself doesn’t appear exactly, but reviewers often draw the connection, calling his landscapes “darkness visible” in a spiritual or existential sense.
Contemporary Poets and Writers
Many modern poets and authors have directly borrowed the phrase as a literary homage, using it to convey profound grief, despair, or the moral complexity of a situation.
Example: Anne Carson in her poetry uses Miltonic phrasing to explore themes of inner darkness and revelation.
Stephen King — Various works
King occasionally echoes Milton when describing supernatural or existential evil. The term surfaces in critical commentary about characters confronting the tangible presence of darkness in their lives.
As a Literary Allusion
More generally, “darkness visible” has become shorthand in literary criticism and essays to indicate paradoxical situations: something seen or understood clearly only because of its absence, like evil that reveals itself through its effects.
7. Literary Criticism and Essays
Beyond fiction, “darkness visible” is frequently used in literary analysis to describe situations where evil, grief, or moral failure becomes unmistakably clear.
Example: The phrase might appear in essays on political corruption, historical tragedy, or psychological studies — Milton’s metaphor has become shorthand for seeing the unseen. So while the phrase originated with Milton in Paradise Lost, it has a long afterlife in literature, often signaling intense moral, spiritual, or psychological insight.
In conclusion, Milton’s phrase “darkness visible” didn’t stay confined to the 17th century. Its haunting paradox — lightless light, evil revealed through absence — has echoed through centuries of literature. Over time, “darkness visible” has become more than a phrase — it’s shorthand for moments when evil, grief, or despair can be seen clearly, even if only through the lens of imagination or moral insight. Milton may have written it in the 17th century, but the image still haunts our literature — and our imagination — today.
If Paradise Lost is vast and turbulent, Paradise Regained is quiet and austere. Published in 1671, it is much shorter — only four books — focusing on Christ’s temptation in the wilderness.
The poem narrows to one landscape: the desert. No armies, no cosmic battles. The tension is internal, spiritual. Adam failed; Christ succeeds through humility, patience, and obedience.
Milton’s life and work remind us that adversity can become vision. His blindness, which might have silenced another poet, sharpened his inner eye.
From personal darkness came Paradise Lost, epic and tragic, and Paradise Regained, quiet and contemplative. Even when cast into darkness, Milton found a regained paradise of insight, purpose, and artistry.
Sources include The Complete Works of John Donne, "Reading John Milton: How to Persist in Troubled Times" by Stephen B. Dobranski, "John Milton: Life, Work and Thought" by Gordon Campbell and Thomas N. Corns, and "The Life of John Milton" by William Riley Parker
Join us for episode 461 - an episode by the name of darkness visible - regarding the Life and Times of Daniel Defoe.