A Poet’s Disability

How it comforts and encourages even today.

This one has some meat on the bone, so I am making it my weekend post. It might take a little more time to process, but I think it will be worth it if you do.

My next post will drop Monday morning. Usual time.

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If we want to understand life at a deeper level it will come at least in part by learning to appreciate the lives our ancestors lived. In this post let me show you something really great. Truly profound. Possibly life changing. Once you appreciate this, it become yours, to remind you whenever you need to know that who you are in God’s eyes is of more value than the things you are good at doing.

One of the greatest writers in English Literature is John Milton (1608 - 1674).

Like Beethoven after him (1770-1827), with his progressing and finally complete deafness, Milton, in the middle of his life became blind. These two great artists shared the fact that each lost the one sense most important to his particular passion. I cannot imagine a worse disability to a composer than to become deaf and I cannot imagine a worse disability to a writer than to become blind.

When John Milton became blind, he was already a famous poet, and yet his greatest works were still before him. So, it is an important question to ask, “What would we have lost, if Milton had quit writing because he went blind?” One answer is to say it would not have mattered much because we ourselves have never read much if anything Milton ever wrote (which changes after today if this is the case). It is a fair point, however, millions before us have read and reread Milton. Remember, no TV’s, no Internet back then. And many of his fans were inspired to become writers who wrote and inspired others to write and inspire, on down to the authors we read today. And have I mentioned he is considered one of the greatest writers in English Literature? I will give you a glimpse of his genius in a moment.

Another English poet who was about thirty years older than Milton, John Donne (1572-1631), put it this way, in another poem you may have read entitled No Man Is an Island.

No man is an island,
Entire of itself;
Every man is a piece of the continent, 
A part of the main.

If a clod be washed away by the sea,
Europe is the less,
As well as if a promontory were:
As well as if a manor of thy friend's
Or of thine own were.

Any man's death diminishes me,
Because I am involved in mankind.
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.

Donne’s point and mine are that we are invisibly linked to mankind past, present, and future. This is reason enough to want to learn about the lives of others because in doing this our lives are made richer.

There is something else important to know about Milton. He was a devout Christian. 

Now let’s get to Milton’s Sonnet 19, written about a year into his blindness.

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
   Lodged 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.”

Now, I know, this type of writing is difficult for modern readers, but it is also strangely beautiful. Think about this. If you lived in Milton’s time, I am sure you would have realized even back then this was an amazing piece of writing both technically as well as in content.  

Comparing a sonnet like this with an article out of today’s news is the difference between looking at a diamond and a lump of coal. The difference between the two is not that they are different at the atomic level. They are both presentations of carbon. The difference is the diamond has been heated and compressed until it organizes into a crystal. Now it reflects light and glimmers. It isn’t that the coal is useless. It can be used as fuel.  But a diamond is something completely pure and other-worldly with qualities of beauty and timelessness.

Allow me to show you this sonnet’s crystal structure before we look at the meaning.

To begin, this sonnet follows certain rules and conventions of the time. It is 14 lines divided into two sections. The first 8 lines have the rhyming pattern ABBA ABBA, The last 6 lines have the rhyming pattern CDE CDE. Check this out yourself by comparing the last word of every line. But it is more than the fact he could make them rhyme. The first 8 lines establish the problem and the last 6 lines provide the resolution

A sonnet’s lines have a set rhythm and prescribed length.

This one is written in Iambic Pentameter. "Iambic" indicates that there is an unstressed syllable followed by a stressed one. Here is one iambic.

daDum...

Using the rhythm of words sets a pace for the poem moving it forward, like a good walk, and it keeps us from pausing at wrong places, which might upset the poet’s intended meaning.

"Penta" is the word for "five." There are five of these iambics in every line.

daDUM daDUM daDUM daDUM daDum...

My Line-by-Line Interpretation of Sonnet 19

When I consider how my light is spent,

(When I think about my blindness)

E're half my days, in this dark world and wide,

(Now that the next half of my life is facing a wide world of darkness)

And that one Talent which is death to hide,

(It kills me that the one talent I rely on the most as a writer, my sight, is now hidden in darkness)

Lodg'd with me useless, though my Soul more bent

(I can't get the words out, even though the deepest desire of my life is even more intent)

To serve therewith my Maker, and present

(to serve God with my writing, and present or explain)

My true account, lest he returning chide,

(My deepest pain and heart in this matter — unless of course God scoffs at this attempt)

Doth God exact day labour, light deny'd,

(Lord, do you press me to work for you while at the same time taking away my ability to do so?)

I fondly ask; But patience to prevent

(I ask this in a loving way, not in arrogance or anger)

["But" is the turning point of the sonnet.]

(But then as I am patient and quiet, there comes to me a word that stops my complaint.)

That murmur, soon replies, God doth not need

(I interpret “That murmur” to be his earlier question to God. This other quiet reply comes — God doesn’t need…)

Either man's work or his own gifts, who best

(…man’s work or the gift that he (God) rightfully owns. This is a big point in this sonnet. Milton says at first his writing is his own talent, now he is seeing that this is a gift from God. The one who best…)

Bear his milde yoak, they serve him best, his State

(…accepts God's light requirements or duties, they are doing what He wants and doing it in the best way. God's State or Kingdom…)

Is Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed

(…is under his Kingly control. He is directing thousands who are doing exactly what he commands…)

And post o're Land and Ocean without rest:

(…all over the world -- and they are expending all their energy to do so.)

They also serve who only stand and waite.

(However, those who stand in his presence and wait patiently, are accepting their difficult assignment to not be in the game they would prefer at this moment. They too, are doing exactly what God commands.)

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Conclusion: Those who stand (or sit in a wheelchair, or lie in a hospital bed, or grow in a womb, or suffer as a prisoner) and wait on God are serving him completely. Our disabilities and limitations are a part of God’s assignment for us in this moment.

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A Bonus Gift