Satanás sabe

martes, mayo 5

Satanás en Paradise Lost es la figura del narcisista extremo. Sus delirios espirales llegan incluso a tomar la forma de sus fantasmas materializados: proyecta sus fantasías hacia el mundo de manera que no quede nada en él que no haya venido de sus propios deseos y conflictos, y así la única palabra que vale la pena decir es la suya, la única guerra que ha de ser desatada es la que él comande y el único futuro digno de ocurrir es el que él disponga. Sin embargo, creo que Satanás no es todo vanidad. De vez en cuando tiene momentos, no muy frecuentes pero los suficientes como para ser sistemáticos, en los que alinea sus delirios de tal manera que puede atravesarlos, y entonces comienza a hablar más allá de sus enredos, usando la excusa de su altivez para formular con precisión los versos que contienen la verdad: la condena divina a la derrota es la única condición que permite la búsqueda de la verdadera libertad, la batalla en la que el dios se revela como la bestia y la tarea de lo humano es abrir con violencia su lugar de inscripción en el mundo, abrir la brecha que descose el tejido de la realidad. Romper el cielo:

If thou beest he—but O how fallen! how changed
From him who, in the happy realms of light
Clothed with transcendent brightness, didst outshine
Myriads, though bright!—if he whom mutual league,
United thoughts and counsels, equal hope
And hazard in the glorious enterprise
Joined with me once, now misery hath joined
In equal ruin; into what pit thou seest
From what height fallen: so much the stronger proved
He with his thunder; and till then who knew
The force of those dire arms? Yet not for those,
Nor what the potent Victor in his rage
Can else inflict, do I repent, or change,
Though changed in outward lustre, that fixed mind,
And high disdain from sense of injured merit,
That with the Mightiest raised me to contend,
And to the fierce contentions brought along
Innumerable force of Spirits armed,
That durst dislike his reign, and, me preferring,
His utmost power with adverse power opposed
In dubious battle on the plains of Heaven,
And shook his throne. What though the field be lost?
All is not lost—the unconquerable will,
And study of revenge, immortal hate,
And courage never to submit or yield:
And what is else not to be overcome?
That glory never shall his wrath or might
Extort from me. To bow and sue for grace
With suppliant knee, and deify his power
Who, from the terror of this arm, so late
Doubted his empire—that were low indeed;
That were an ignominy and shame beneath
This downfall; since, by fate, the strength of Gods,
And this empyreal substance, cannot fail;
Since, through experience of this great event,
In arms not worse, in foresight much advanced,
We may with more successful hope resolve
To wage by force or guile eternal war,
Irreconcilable to our grand Foe,
Who now triumphs, and in th' excess of joy
Sole reigning holds the tyranny of Heaven.