gsmith@brahms.BERKELEY.EDU (Gene Ward Smith) (09/09/86)
In article <7618@tekecs.UUCP> mikes@tekecs.UUCP (Michael Sellers) writes: >The comparison between Satan and Prometheus is interesting, if only from a >sociological point of view -- plumbing the origins of both figures in myth >would be interesting. Satan, however, did *not* give Adam and Eve the >gift of free will or of knowledge; he merely led them to exercise that which >they already had (they both ate of their free will that God had already given >them), and this act 'opened their eyes.' Thus Satan's part was merely of a >catalyst, not a gift-bearer. Given that Adam and Eve knew about the tree, >and that they were not supposed to eat its fruit, I would say Lucifer would >better be a patron saint of school-yard drug pushers than of scientists. Comparing Satan and Prometheus goes back at least as far as Shelly. In the introduction to 'Prometheus Unbound' (which I recommend to both HASA types and Christians) Shelly writes: 'The only imaginary being resembling in any degree Prometheus, is Satan; and Prometheus is, in my judgement, a more poetical character than Satan, because, in addition to courage, and majesty, and firm and patient opposition to omnipotent force, he is susceptible of being described as exempt from the taints of envy, revenge, and a desire for personal aggrandisement, which, in the Hero of "Paradise Lost", inter- fere with the interest.' In Shelly's poem, Prometheus is not only like Satan in 'Paradise Lost', he is also and explicitly a Christ figure. One of the torments of Prometheus is to view the sufferings of Christ and then the history of Christianity: 'Remit the anguish of that lighted stare; Close those wan lips; let that thorn-wounded brow Stream not with blood; it mingles with thy tears! Fix, fix those tortured orbs in peace and death, So thy sick throes shake not that crucifix, So those pale fingers play not with thy gore. O, horrible! Thy name I will not speak, It has become a curse. I see, I see The wise, the mild, the lofty, and the just, Whom thy slaves hate for being like to thee, Some hunted by foul lies from their heart's home, An early-chosen, late-lamented home; As hooded ounces cling to the driven hind; Some linked to corpses in unwholesome cells: Some--Hear I not the multitude laugh loud?-- Impaled in lingering fire: and mighty realms Float by my feet, like sea-uprooted isles, Whose sons are kneaded down in common blood By the red light of their own burning homes.' ucbvax!brahms!gsmith Gene Ward Smith/UCB Math Dept/Berkeley CA 94720 "What is algebra exactly? Is it those three-cornered things?"J.M. Barrie