Whether it is the flamboyance of Lindall’s 2008 Grand Paradise Lost Costume Ball in Brooklyn, or the spectacle of 40 large oil paintings displayed at Fuseli’s 18th century Milton Gallery in London, Paradise Lost has charmed readers for over three centuries. The readers’ urge to participate in the enticing yet conflicted world of this Miltonic epic in a more visually tangible manner has manifested itself in myriad ways, beginning primarily with various illustrations of the narrative since the publication of the 1688 edition. On encountering a sombre Satan who dons a wreathed fedora hat in Pablo Auladell’s graphic novel adaptation of the epic, a figure so different from Blake or Martin’s visualization of Milton’s Satan,we realize the immense impact of Paradise Lost on popular imagination till date. More than any other work by Milton, this narrative has exceeded the bounds of highbrow literature to engender new texts and interpretations spread across diverse media. In the case of visual re-imaginations, whether illustrations or independent artworks influenced by Milton’s text, the varied ways of spatializing the biblical event of the felix culpa (or fortunate fall) on canvass or on paper has proved to be an interesting aspect of the afterlife of the epic poem.




The concept of space assumes an important role in the textual mapping of Paradise Lost, a narrative which extends the brief account of creation and the fall of man in the Genesis to give rise to a 1056 line epic poem. [1] The spatial distribution of the events of Milton’s epic occurs across the imaginary landscapes of heaven, hell, chaos,earth, and paradise over a course of 12 books composed approximately between 1658-63. Milton’s soaring poetry attempts to linguistically capture the sudden shifts in perspective while traversing various spaces/ places within the narrative, through the trope of travel and displacement. Interestingly, besides the enchanting Satan, and the dynamic Eve, characters which make Milton’s epic attractive to the readers, space itself emerges as a character in its own right in the epic. The multi-dimensional nature of spatiality reveals iltself as it linguistically and literally stretches across the numerous lines of poetry. The immense void of the tumultuous expanse of chaos is one such manifestation of the singular presence of space in Milton’s narrative. In the poet’s heterodox imagination, the darkness of this “unfounded deep” occupies an immaterial space outside our universe. Moreover, an alternate spatio-temporal realm is created at certain moments when the text transcends the world of narrative reality to conjure up a sphere of dreams and visions. For instance, in the case of Eve’s prophetic dream of seduction by Satan in the garb of an angel in Book V, the shepherd’s dream of being enchanted by fairies in Book I, or the vision of the future of humanity shown by Michael to a fallen Adam in Book XI, the reality of the present gives way other insubstantial spatialities situated in different time frames. What is intriguing to me is the relationship between text and image as illustrators  across centuries re-map the fascinating site of Milton’s epic in acts of creative re-interpretation. In this article, I will attempt to explore the visual manifestation of space in the graphic representations of Paradise Lost (engravings and paintings) by artists like John Martin and Gustave Doré.[2] I also wish to address certain questions like: what are the various ways of seeing which unfold before the viewer/reader as the text gets ‘imaged’ by various hands? What does it mean to engage in a discussion of visual translations of a text composed by a poet who had become blind by 1652, in order to picture “things invisible to mortal sight”?

James Treadwell writes in an article that though Paradise Lost has been a frequently illustrated text, it is “uniquely resistant to visual representation” since the illustrator enters the realm of earthly senses thus falling away from the heavenly language a celestial subject requires.[3] While I am in essential agreement with Treadwell ensuing discussion of the Blake and Martin’s illustrations as representation rather than interpretation (of a narrow literal kind) in the article, I wish to slightly rephrase his initial stance.[4] It is important to note that composed in a fallen world, both text and image inhabit the same plane of imperfection while simultaneously aspiring to a higher spiritual perfection. Milton, a fallen being, attempts to create a linguistic framework in order to imagine events of a pre-lapsarian universe inaccessible to human knowledge in its entirety. This attempt is an exercise in paradox since the word of fallen man is flawed and unstable. Thus, although the poet uses an idiom arising from classical references, biblical exegesis, scientific and colonial discourses to discerningly visualize Paradise Lost, it is the very nature of language which thwarts any effort at exhaustive detailing. Milton’s otherwise visually vibrant text with descriptive images and metaphors at times evades explication of certain aspects of a scene which are left to the reader’s imagination. These very descriptive gaps in the epic narrative open up the scope for hermeneutic possibilities, rather than limiting the illustrators’ ability to produce “faithful or literal visual rendering[s]” of the biblical drama.[5] 

Spatial representations of heaven, hell and paradise

The sprawling landscapes of John Martin’s 19th century engravings is a visual embodiment of his unique conception of the Miltonic sublime. During 1926-27 he was commissioned by Septimus Prowett to make 24 mezzotint illustrations of Milton’s epic in two different sizes for a lucrative amount of £3500.[6] According to Marcia Pointon, Martin had developed a consciously distinctive style which fused vestiges of neoclassicism from the 18th century artists of the sublime like Fuseli, and elements of naturalistic landscape painting which was emerging as a major artistic trend in the 19th century.[7] In illustrating Paradise Lost, Martin foregrounds the spatial setting of the epic as a major player in the biblical narrative to create a sense of high drama. Dizzying vistas and staggering architectural feats dominate his engravings, while human and celestial characters alike (except Satan in hell) are rendered diminutive, powerless and subjugated to their vast surroundings.[8] Their diminished presence is stripped of individuality and reduced to the merely symbolic in Martin’s visual scheme. While he employs his technological and architectural leanings to envision Satan as the charming colonizer of hell, Martin seldom depicts God in his illustrations and chooses to render the Son invisible.[9] His mezzotints navigate space in various scenes through an infinite interplay of light and darkness, with the Divine taking the form of a shaft of transcendent light often shooting across the frame. In a radical reimagining of Milton’s text and unlike his predecessors, Martin makes no effort to render spiritual exaltation, torment, or human values through the postures and expressions of the various figures in Paradise Lost. Armed with an adept architectural imagination, Martin visualizes the “ascending pile” of Satan’s palace in hell as a majestic spectacle in The Raising of Pandemonium (Fig 1).

Fig.1 Book I, Line 710




In the foreground, Martin etches a bat-winged Satan, spear in hand, facing away from the viewer and gazing at the splendours of the rising palace built by his legions. In his text Milton employs the simile of visual music- the “dulcet symphonies” of an organ- to describe the erection of Pandemonium by the fallen angels. By “exercising massive architectural perspective and mechanical sublime”, Martin translates this sense of rhythmic symmetry inherent in Milton’s musical description to depict a striking palatial building, with doric columns and dragon statuettes incorporated in a highly complex design.[10] Milton’s description of hell as “darkness visible” comes through elegantly in Martin’s depiction of this space as a craggy terrain engulfed by a doomed darkness in which a throng of lowly beings burrow ominously into the ground to build a decadent altar to sinful greed.

Fig.2 Book II, Line 1

In the illustration of Satan Enthroned (Fig. 2), Martin depicts the colonizer of hell in an exalted fashion sitting on a lavish throne atop a rotund. This curved elevation can be read as signifying the orb of earth- a space which Satan will invade after orchestrating the fall. This composition reveals a unique geometrical interplay reflective of the artist’s architectural vision, and an aura of invasive darkness which can only be dispersed by the technology of arc-lamp chandeliers in the absence of the redeeming light of the Father.[11] Martin’s fascination with the Devil and his boundless power in the fallen world gets associated with exploitative colonizing and industrial practices of the 19th century, and the possession of massive wealth recommended by the utilitarian discourses of the day. Martin’s imaginative critique of the pitfalls of industrialization by associating it with Satan, bears testimony to that fact that like so many of his contemporaries Martin was also aware of the “fascination and horrors of industrial innovation”.[12]


Fig. 3 Book 10, Line 312 & 347

The illusion of a distant vanishing point of the tunnel in Martin’s etching of The Bridge Over chaos (Fig 3) remarkably captures the sense of limitless chasm  which the causeway attempts to traverse. 

Over the foaming deep high Archt, a Bridge
Of length prodigious joyning to the Wall
Immovable of this now fenceless world…(X.301-03)

Though Martin only chooses to visually map the space occupied by the caverns of hell and the beginning of the bridge overlaid by rocky arches rather than chaos itself, he brilliantly compresses with his frame the vastness of the chaotic void which Satan has scaled. Moreover, as F Klingender points out, the bottomless pit in this plate is reminiscent of Martin’s knowledge of contemporary descriptions of coal-mines and underground tunnels like the Caledonian Canal and Brunel’s scheme for a tunnel under the Thames.[13] Thus we observe that spatiality in Martin’s visualization of hell takes on a phantasmagoric opulence and is shot through with a darkness pregnant with the “aesthetic of the machine”.[14]




The lack of natural illumination in hell is complemented by the flood of light irradiating the heavenly space depicted in Martin’s illustrations of scenes like Satan By The Stairs of Heaven (Fig. 4) or the adoration of God by the angels in heaven (Fig. 5). While the mezzotints depicting the majestic structures in hell were engulfed by an overpowering darkness thus reflecting evil and the exploitative aspect of industrialization, Martin celebrates the glory of heaven by etching equally grand architectural feats bathed in sublime light. The hellish exploitation is replaced by creativity in the celestial space. The geometric plotting of spatiality in these engravings captures the sight of the viewer and gives Milton’s rich poetic vision an alluring shape.

Fig. 4 Book III, Line 501

Fig. 5 Book III, Line 365

While describing Martin’s etchings of the stairs of heaven, Treadwell aptly praises the conception of space by distinguishing the “extraordinarily compressed recession of depth, opening invisible abysses between one flight and the next”.[15] In portraying the heavenly abode, Martin’s mezzotints set up a dialogue between sublimity and solidity (as distinct from the base materiality of structures in hell) which seems to haze into an effusion of light across the pictorial space, instead of crumbling into a dark oblivion. An effect is created so that the glorious flight of stairs appears to be suspended between “reality and allegory”. [16]
Each stair mysteriously was meant, nor stood
There always, but drawn up to heaven sometimes
Viewless … (III.516-18).




The Eden of Martin’s imagination is a lush expanse of thick vegetation and low ridges set in an alpine backdrop.[17] The luxuriant vegetation in the lap of smoky mountain ranges cloaked in light in the scenes like Adam and Eve’s Morning Prayer (Fig. 6) and Eve Startled by Her Reflection (Fig. 7), exudes calmness and joy of unfallen humanity.[18] Adam and Eve have been reduced to minute nude figures present in the backdrop of the spatial drama of harmonious nature bathed in light which beautifully captures the essence of pre-laprasian bliss.

Fig 6 Book V, Line 136

Fig. 7 Book IV, Line 453

However in the Temptation of Eve (Fig. 8) the spatial distribution between the land and sky shifts so that the focus is on dark menacing trees with gnarled branches. Martin foregrounds the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil (indistinctive from the other trees in the distance) around whose twisted branches the serpent coils itself while tempting an overshadowed Eve with the forbidden fruit.

Fig. 8 Book IX, Line 780




In the above plate, Eve’s biblical self-indulgence and narcissism is symbolized by her position almost as the center of the frame (just like in engraving depicting her reflection).[19] With the infiltration of Satan in the Edenic space, the horizon line rises upwards in Martin’s engravings to give the sense of a darkening pit-like depth at the edge of which Adam and Eve are perilously positioned. This illusion of depth in the later scenes can be read as a premonition of the impending doom that will descend on fallen humanity. In the Expulsion Scene (Fig. 9) the sense of desolation and remoteness is clearly made apparent through the harsh expanse of a cavernous rocky landscape devoid of vegetation, and marked by the “deep recession characteristic of Martin’s perspective”. [20] The rugged terrain cradles the fallen couple who have been forever banished from the celestial light which recedes into the distant background and into the mouth of a cave like arch from which Adam and Eve emerge. Therefore, we observe the ways in which the Edenic space embodies the spectacle of spiritual conflict, thus emerging as the main protagonist in Martin’s visualization of the drama of fall.


Fig. X Book XII, Line 641

The 19th ce French artist, Gustave Doré’s illustrations of Eden exude a detailed naturalism more pronounced than that of Martin.[21] In Doré’s imagination the garden of Eden is beautiful in its ordered wilderness which bears testimony to the perfection of god’s creation. Although geographical space mainly acts as a backdrop of the biblical events portrayed in his 50 engravings of scenes from Paradise Lost (published in the 1864 edition), Doré’s graceful figures cannot be separated from the landscape in which they are situated. The organic wholeness of his compositions, evident both in his biblical illustrations and paintings, binds the figures with their natural surroundings in one seamless whole .  This harmonious and non-hierarchical relationship of Adam and Eve with nature, which they both tend to and draw sustenance from, becomes apparent in Doré’s illustration of a scene depicting the pre-lapsarian bliss of Eden (Fig. 11).


Fig. 11 The savoury pulp they chew, and in the rind, / Still as they thirsted, scoop the brimming stream (IV.335, 336)



Interestingly, Doré does not illustrate the actual scene of temptation. However, his engraving which depicts Satan in the garb of  a serpent approaching Adam and Eve succeeds in capturing a moment fraught with symbolic value (Fig. 12). This particular engraving foregrounds the serpent entering the thick bower inhabited by Adam and Eve, and the spatial composition of the frame creates a sense of depth to heighten the dramatic significance of the imminent fall. Doré’s detailed portrayal of a naturalized space dense with vegetation and the sharp perspective, seems to compress the distance between the viewer external to the image and the characters within it. This leads to a sense of immediacy such that while gazing at the picture, the viewer feels as if she has been offered a privileged view of this potent biblical scene.

Fig. 12 Nearer he drew, and many a walk traversed / Of stateliest covert, cedar, pine, or palm (IX. 434, 435)

Visually conceptualizing chaos and Milton’s cosmography

The secrets of the hoarie deep, a dark
Illimitable Ocean without bound,
Without dimension, where length, breadth, & highth,
And time and place are lost; where eldest Night
And chaos, Ancestors of Nature, hold
Eternal Anarchie, amidst the noise
Of endless Warrs, and by confusion stand…(II.891-97)

In describing chaos, Milton imagines an uncharted, immeasurable void which eludes linguistic signification. Dennis Danielson suggests that Milton expands the traditional two-stage theory of the creation of the universe (in which god organizes the unarranged original matter) to add a third stage in which a robust chaos is retained even after the creation of the world to symbolize the potential loss of cohesion and beauty.[22] Danielson thus defines Milton’s ‘multiverse’ as everything that exists beyond god himself, including an infinite chaos, empyreal heaven, hell, our world (universe or cosmos) and any other world god may have created. Thus it becomes apparent that Milton’s daring and beautiful conception of the cosmological structure encompassing all matter and non-matter is an imaginative and linguistic challenge. What Milton achieves is capturing through his sublime poetry, however poses a greater challenge for illustrators of Paradise Lost across centuries. Very few artists have undertaken the task of visual representation of the immaterial space of chaos.
Among his 50 engravings, Doré dedicates two pieces to attempt to visually conceptualize the complex facets of Milton’s chaos. The first engraving is an illustration of the scene in Book II in which the poet describes Satan’s struggle to traverse the unmapped abyss (Fig. 13).

Fig. 13 With head, hands, wings, or feet pursues his way,
And swims or sinks, or wades, or creeps, or flies:…(II.949-50)

Doré does not attempt to graphically represent an expanse of non-matter through which Satan falls ten thousand fathoms until a “tumultuous cloud” carries him upwards. Instead he fills the frame of his illustration with steep rocky ridges which Satan is depicted as climbing. The Archfiend is depicted as an angelic figure with muscular limbs (as in Doré’s other illustrations of the epic), clad in a marshal attire, wings spread, and attempting to clutch as the crags of the steep slope. Rather than giving off a sense of diabolical threat, the plate shows Satan’s endeavour as almost a heroic one by focussing on the moment of his struggle. Thus in this illustration, Doré conceptualizes  the bottomless spatiality of non-matter in terms of a rugged (although not chaotic) materiality.


Fig. 14 Down from th’ Ecliptic, sped with hop’d success,
Throws his steep flight in many an Aerie wheele… (III.740-41)
The above engraving (Fig. 14) is a beautiful illustration of Satan from the elliptical path of the sun down towards the arc of the created world.[23] This is one of Doré’s most famous representations of the Miltonic epic, and it succeeds in highlighting the harmony and beautiful order of the cosmos created by god. The starless night of the dark abyss of chaos is replaced in this scene, and Doré’s illustration, by innumerable stars shining brightly in the sky of god’s universe. Doré’s nimble Satan is suspended mid-flight, as if briefly halting to reluctantly appreciate the immense beauty of creation.



Milton’s cosmological design has also been visually represented by the American artist Terrance Lindall at the end of the 20th century. Lindall’s 1983 illustrations ( prints of original oil on canvas) of Paradise Lost, later published along with his prose rendition of the epic, employ a surrealistic mode to envision Milton’s world.

Fig. 15 The Visionary Foal
In this Boschian conception of the journey of Sin and Death into chaos (Fig. 15), Lindall spatializes the terrible horrors of Milton’s hell while adeptly capturing the dramatic charge of the moment . The inhabitants of hell seem to take on the grotesque animalistic aspect of the appearance on Sin in Milton’s description, while she herself is depicted as assuming a human form sitting astride the foal behind a miasma representing Death. Instead of constructing a bridge, Lindall paints them as riding across chaos on a one-eyed (the popular connotation being evil) foal with limbs of a lizard. Cradled by the greenish arch of hell, the canvas opens into chaos. Like in Martin’s illustration of The Bridge Over chaos, the expanse of tremulous void is spatially compressed in Lindall’s canvas. The curvature of the arch frames the chaos to create a sense of measureless depth. However the glimpse we get of Lindall’s spatial depiction of chaos is quite organized- with a sun reminiscent of the taichi symbol representing the dual forces of good and evil, and a spiral galaxy thrown into the mix.

Fig 16 The Pendant World

In the above illustration (Fig. 16) Lindall charmingly recreates the “pendant world”, hanging from the heavens by a golden chain, suspended in a tumultuous expanse of chaos.[24] This image beautifully compresses a huge expanse in a leap of artistic imagination. Lindall’s success at capturing the high imagination of Milton’s epic is predicated upon his historical situation at the closing of the a century which had witnessed the phenomenal success of science-fiction and speculative narratives. Moreover his access to a technique suited to capturing his vision, i.e. surrealism (rather than realism), makes his illustrations more appealing to the modern viewer/reader. Moreover the usage of brilliant colors by Lindall intensifies the magical quality of his illustrations, which are available in various forms with the rapid advancement of the print culture. In the midst of the vast abyss contained by Lindall’s frame, Satan appears as a speck, smoothly traversing the space in his flight towards the earth. 

In concluding this discussion on the visual representation of spatiality, I would like to briefly look at the illustrations of Milton’s epic by the 18th century Swiss painter Henry Fuseli. Between 1790 and 1820 Fuseli made nearly 200 representations of Paradise Lost in various media,only few of which survive today. Among the numerous scenes he had chosen to represent, the most famous one being his oil painting titled Satan and Death with Sin Intervening, those depicting the shepherd’s dream and the dream of Eve in Eden gain a special significance given his life-long passion for the artistic delineation of the supernatural and gothic horror. These scenes have not been illustrated often, especially because of the attempts of earlier artists to employ realist trends in their artistic representations of an otherwise imaginary world of Paradise Lost. However Fuseli’s 1973 oil painting called The Shepherd’s Dream (Fig. 17) is a unique and mesmerizing illustration of a simile Milton uses to describe the ability of the fallen angels to reduce their sizes, like fairies, so as to fit into the Great Hall of Pandemonium. Fuseli picks up this small detail to conceptualize a parallel realm of dreams- a fragile space inhabited by spectral shapes of mystical beings. 


Fig. 17 The Shepherd’s Dream
Faerie Elves,
Whose midnight Revels, by a Forrest side
Or Fountain some belated Peasant sees,
Or dreams he sees, while…
they on thir mirth and dance
Intent, with jocond Music charm his ear;
At once with joy and fear his heart rebounds…(I.781-88)

The soft glow enveloping the fairies above the head of the hallucinating  shepherd (peasant in Milton’s text) creates a dream-like swoon. What fascinates me is the way in which this painting, although depicting a scene not central to the biblical drama of Milton’s epic, spatializes the essence of the imaginary, the fantastical, and the deceptive quality of chimeras- all important elements of the broader scheme of the poet’s imagination.




Thus we can say that a narrativization of “things invisible to mortal sight” has paradoxically become a potential minefield of visual exploration over the centuries. The fallen imagination of beings, who can only dream of immortality in a post-lapsarian world, has again and again attempted to artistically capture the perfection of Edenic bliss through the idioms of text and image. Paradise Lost in essence becomes a text which is not so much resistant to what Treadwell calls “basic components of an image”, as it is conducive to innovative image-making by various illustrators.
ENDNOTES
   1.    Some scholars surmise that the poet’s description of Satan’s path in this scene was influenced by the Ptolemaic geocentric model.
By space I mean not just the linguistic recreation of an expanse passed down to us by the laws of physics and a historical past, but also an imaginative carving out of an unintelligible pre-history by Milton.

   2.    Given the limited scope of this article I have only selected only a of handful those illustrations by the above artists which I felt captured best the idea of spatiality as a distinct character in Paradise Lost. I have focused mainly on the engravings of Martin because of his distinctive treatment of space, and will briefly refer to the illustrations by Henry Fuseli and Terrance Lindall. However the illustrations by John Baptist Medina in the 1688 edition are also interesting vis-a-vis spatiality as he assembles various events situated in the same space (for example Eden) in a single pictorial frame is an act of compressing spatialities to focus more on events. It is also worth exploring the treatment of space in the captivating illustrations by 20th century artists like Carlotta Petrina and Mary Groom.
   3.    See James Treadwell’s essay “Blake, John Martin, and the illustration of Paradise Lost”.
   4.    Instead of viewing “interpretative meaning via degrees of accuracy” like Treadwell, I use the word interpretation in a broader sense of creative re-imagination.

   5.    Treadwell
   6.    Mezzotint is an engraving technique developed in the seventeenth century which allows for the creation of prints with soft gradations of tone and rich and velvety blacks.
   7.    J.M.W. Turner, who was one of the major 19th century landscape painters in the European tradition, had himself made a few water-color paintings of scenes from Paradise Lost.
   8.    In her 1970 book Milton and English Art, Marcia Pointon suggests that Martin’s choice of subject matter “nearly always involved the struggle of humanity in all its insufficiency against the natural powers of the universe…”
   9.    The only exception is an almost transluscent outline of the figure of God in Martin’s engraving of the scene of the creation of stars and planets.
   10.    See Kester Svendsen’s article “John Martin and the Expulsion Scene of Paradise Lost”.
   11.    Scholars like Pointon have suggested that the Great Hall of Pandemonium has been depicted by Martin along the lines of the Albert Hall.

   12.    Pointon
   13.    See F.D. Klingender’s 1947 book Art and the Industrial Revolution.
   14.    Klingender
   15.    Treadwell
   16.    Treadwell
   17.    Pointon says that Martin’s Eden is a “lush mixture of tropical and European fruits and plants” realistically portrayed.

   18.    However the peaceful setting of Eve Startled by Her Reflection is somewhat deceptive as the scene depicts Eve’s narcissism which is a prelude to her desire for more knowledge which will ultimately corrupt her perfect edenic family with Adam.

   19.    In Martin’s other representations of Eden, when Eve emerges on the scene along with Adam, their figures are pushed to one side of the frame.

   20.    Svendsen
   21.    Landscape paintings assume a significant role in Dore’s artistic oeuvre, and is a natural extension of his passion for travel.

   22.    See the chapter “Multiverse, Chaos, Cosmos” in dennis Danielson’s 2014 book Paradise Lost and the Cosmological Revolution.
   23.    Some scholars surmise that the poet’s description of Satan’s path in this scene was influenced by the Ptolemaic geocentric model.

   24.    Romans 8:29-30 features the sequence known as the golden chain of salvation, the inviolable order in which our Creator saves His people. Moreover Milton might also be referring to Homer’s story of the golden chain of Zeus, suspended from Heaven, whereby he can draw up the gods, the erath and the sea, and the whole universe though they can’t draw him down.
   25.    


Share this:
   •    Twitter
   •    Facebook
   •    
Loading...
Related
Literary Artwork and Intertextuality: Milton and Paradise Lost.
May 5, 2019
Is Satan a more compelling character than God in Milton’s “Paradise Lost”?
May 5, 2019
PARADISE LOST AND THE POETICS OF DISPLACEMENT
May 5, 2019


Published by miltonics666
Hello. This is the blog of the Special Author: John Milton course where students from PGI and II will be posting their papers as part of the final internal assessment. View all posts by miltonics666
Published May 6, 2019
Post navigation
Previous Post Eyeless in London: John Milton’s London Lodgings
Next Post Violent Epiphanies in Lycidas
Leave a comment


Blog at WordPress.com.

Privacy & Cookies: This site uses cookies. By continuing to use this website, you agree to their use.
To find out more, including how to control cookies, see here: Cookie Policy
Design a site like this with WordPress.com
Get started