I am currently reading along while listening to a recording of Paradise Lost. I had started this during the summer, but got sidetracked, and just started over again the other day. I'm not having any trouble at all following along - and I haven't looked at the poem since college. The thrill of it lies in the sonorous language. Why would you want to turn it into prose?
Mz. Fitz 'n' Startz regretz to inform (the editorial) you that turning Milton's poetry into prose can only be compared to turning a silk purse into a sow's squear. Sorry. Wrong numbness; half its beauty *is* its poetry, fer the love of Him (and, that's exactly what it is, a fantastic epic hymnastic); can we say Sisyphant? Yep, we can't; but, that doesn't mean we shan't. Yech! Eek! Blech!
ReplyDeletep.s. I know: I should learn to say what I *really* mean . . . Damn it!