What John Milton would write about Hurricane Milton

It's a Battle of the (AI) Bards.

Photo by Matt Hardy on Unsplash

In this whirlwind of a week, you get a second hurricane-related Idea Link.

As I write this, Hurricane Milton is charging through the Gulf of Mexico, likely to hit Florida Wednesday. I have lots of extended family in Florida, including some who live directly in the storm’s path. I might make another hurricane recovery trip in the near future.

But in the meantime, a storm named after one of my favorite epic poets is just asking for epic poetry. This morning I asked both ChatGPT and Google Gemini to compose an epic poem about Hurricane Milton in the style of John Milton.

I consider it a Battle of the Bards. I think there’s a clear winner, but I’ll let you judge.

First, a bit about the meaning, or lack thereof, in hurricane names.

Hurricane Names

For my first job out of college, I helped a local media company and historical society update the a book about road names in the county. That job cursed me with an eternal curiosity about names and their meanings, whether inherent or found (a curiosity I referenced in my last post).

After many hours of digging into the inspiration behind road names, I found that many are truly meaningful—they’re named after community heroes, children, religious inspirations or inside jokes. But as often as not, they’re somewhat randomly selected. To paraphrase Shakespeare, “What’s in a name? A road by any other name would smell as sweet,” (unless it were by another name and by a landfill).

Some names are exciting, some are boring. I live in a neighborhood where most roads are named after people and places from Norse mythology who appear in Marvel movies, but my road is named after a golfer. (Hmph.)

Hurricane names have no intended meaning,¹ but we still find irony, humor or terror in Hurricane names. When Hurricane Irma was raging in 2017, I wrote the following on Facebook:

I can't hear about Hurricane Irma without thinking of the time when Irma on the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles cartoon got blown up to 50-feet tall. They eventually returned her to her normal size by giving her a giant ice cream cone with an antidote in it. I wish that would work for the hurricane.

So while there’s nothing funny about this storm’s ferocity or its potential impact on people in its path, but I hope you’ll excuse me for exploring the irony of its name.

Who was John Milton

Was Hurricane Milton actually named after John Milton? Yes. About 416 years after.

Image from the Poetry Foundation.

John Milton was a 17th century British writer and diplomat. I admire his work because he did so much with his life and his writing—He wrote epic poetry and sonnets, journalism, and history. He served his government. He defended his faith. He advocated for freedom of speech and of the press. He was dismissed and imprisoned by a vengeful king. He developed deep knowledge of Jewish and Christian scripture and Greek and Roman mythology, from which he drew wisdom and complex connections that flowed throughout his writing.²

When I was in Chicago this summer for a conference, I loved finding this Milton quote on the wall of the Chicago Tribune:

Although some of his writing can be hard for us to grasp today, it’s not beyond reach for anyone willing to spend time with the text. His shorter poetry, such as poems about his blindness and mourning for his deceased wife, captures wealth of emotion and imagination. His best known work is Paradise Lost, an epic retelling of the fall of Adam and Eve, but other long works, such as Samson Agonistes, explore his philosophy in engaging ways.

“Did you say blindness?” you ask? Yes, Milton eventually lost his sight, so much of his work was composed in his head with the help of scribes. This speaks to the brilliance of Milton’s mind—that he could keep track of complex stories, their meters and syllable counts, complex characters, and long arcs of storytelling in his head is astounding.³

A photo from an 1870 edition of Paradise Lost illustrated by Gustave Diore, in the Hollings Library rare books collection at the University of South Carolina. With thanks to the library staff, I perused this book on a lunch break a few years ago.

Battle of the Bards

Now for the poetry you came here for.

I gave the following prompt to both ChatGPT and Google Gemini:

Write an epic poem in the style of John Milton (think: Paradise Lost) about Hurricane Milton heading toward Florida. This should employ allusions to Roman mythology and Christian theology as well moments in history.

Below are the two poems that the AI chatbots gave in response⁴. Before you read my review, come up with your own opinion.

Here is Google Gemini’s response:

Hurricane Milton: A Divine Tempest

By Google Gemini, prompted by Bryan Gentry

O, mighty Milton, tempest from the deep,
A wrath of nature, dark and cruel sweep!
Thou comest, Titan of the stormy sea,
To scourge the shores of Florida, it's plea.

A Cyclops' eye, thy swirling vortex gleams,
A monstrous maw, that devours all it seems.
Thy roar, a thunderclap from Heaven above,
A tempest's fury, born of primal love.

Like Leviathan, thou risest from the deep,
To wreck the land, where mortals sweetly sleep.
A dragon's tail, thy lashing waves do coil,
To crush the cities, built with human toil.

Yet, hope remains, a flicker in the night,
A guiding star, to lead us through the plight.
Like Noah's ark, we'll weather out the storm,
And rise again, renewed, and strong and warm.

For God, the Father, watches from above,
A watchful eye, filled with eternal love.
He'll calm the tempest, quell the raging sea,
And bring us peace, eternally.

And here is ChatGPT’s:

The Storm of Milton

By ChatGPT, Prompted by Bryan Gentry

I sing, O Muse, of winds divine and fell,
A tempest named for man, yet not of man,
Whose mighty breath draws near with wrathful speed
Toward Florida's frail and fleeting shores.
Milton, the storm, by tongues of mortals named,
But by the gods invoked as Auster’s child,
Descends with fury from the swelling seas
That gird the Earth, Poseidon's vengeful realm.
Not since Aeneas' ship was tossed and turned
By Juno’s spite, has such a wrath been known.

Lo! From the far-flung reaches of the deep,
Where Neptune reigns with trident iron-cast,
The storm did rise. A breath, a whisper first,
But soon it swelled with thunder's voice and flame.
The heavens darkened, veils of cloud unfurled,
And Phosphor’s light was blotted from the skies.
Above, the seraphim and cherubim
Watched from their golden seats, as Gabriel,
That angel bold who guards the stormy paths,
Raised high his sword, yet held his hand in stay.

"Behold," spake he, "the wrath of Heaven stirs,
Not as in elder days, when thunders raged
Atop Sinai, or when Babel's tower fell
To crush the pride of men. This tempest speaks
Of justice long deferred and mercy worn.
Yet, wherefore does it bear a mortal's name,
Whom once was called to sing of holy things?
A Milton now presides o'er chaos wide."

Thus Gabriel mused, while down below, the Earth
Shook with the first of many warning cries.
Through trembling skies, the hurricane advanced,
As in the ancient days when Jupiter
Did smite Phaethon, his fiery chariot
Torn from Apollo's grasp. The Earth in flames,
Now mirrored in the fire of mortal hearts,
Did waken fear once more in men grown bold.

In Florida, the children of the land,
Long proud beneath their sun and golden fields,
Felt the wind’s first touch—soft, as though in jest.
Yet soon, with Auster's rage it gathered force,
A whirlwind crowned with roaring walls of rain.
Their fathers warned, as sailors long at sea,
Of stormy waters, cruel and thick with dread,
When hurricanes by ancient wrath begot,
Sank fleets and crushed proud navies on the waves.
Not since the fleets of Spain were hurled asunder
In Drake’s bold time, had such a storm been seen.

But heedless still, the mortals laughed and danced,
As did the children of the plains in days
Of Noah’s great deluge, where the ark alone
Did ride the waters safe, beneath God's eye.
Their faith misplaced in things of stone and sand,
The Floridians spoke of man-made shields,
Of levees, dykes, and walls of clever craft,
Forgetting that no walls can stand when Heaven
Calls down the winds, whose breath no mortal tames.

Yet still, some few did turn their hearts in prayer,
As Monica once prayed for her lost son,
To Mary’s feet they brought their cries and tears,
And Michael, champion of the heavens’ hosts,
Did mark their pleas and sound the trumpet clear.
The winds obeyed, though not with mercy swift,
But stayed their hands till men could flee the coasts,
For God in justice wields a patient hand.

The storm, as did the army of the Hun
Once charge toward Rome, relentless in its march,
Spared none along its path save those who fled.
The seas, by Neptune’s ire whipped and wild,
Drove inland, tearing trees, flooding the plains.
Cities once proud, whose towers touched the sky,
Were bowed by rain and wind. Augustine wept,
And in the ruins of his Florida,
The saints did mourn for man’s audacity.

Now comes the hour, O Muse, when Fate must speak,
For even Nature’s wrath is but a tool
In Heaven’s hands, to turn the hearts of men
From folly’s course, toward the greater good.
The storm called Milton, like the one who sang
Of Paradise, its loss, and man’s lament,
Doth show the fragile line that mortals tread
Between their pride and what the heavens send.

And so the winds shall rage, and yet grow calm.
The tempest shall return unto the seas,
As Jupiter once stayed his mighty hand
When Pallas' voice called for a second dawn.
The people of the land shall rise once more,
And in their hearts shall burn a humbler flame.
For what is mortal strength compared to Heaven,
When all we build is dust before the storm?

Thus ends the tale of Milton’s fearful wrath,
A storm in name, yet not in name alone,
For storms do serve the will of powers higher,
And hurricanes, like men, must face their end.

Judging the Bards

Well, what do you think?

I think ChatGPT is the clear winner for a few reasons.

First, it most closely fulfills the prompt by composing in the style of Paradise Lost. Some of Milton’s shorter poetry features rhyme, but he avoided it in Paradise Lost, where he aimed for creating “heroic verse” without rhyme, which he called “the Invention of a barbarous Age, to set off wretched matter and lame Meeter.”⁵ Gemini seems to be forcing rhyme like an 11th grader imitating Shakespeare.

Speaking of “lame meter,” Gemini also falls below ChatGPT in terms of meter and lyrical quality. Both bards did a good job of sticking to iambic pentameter, but Gemini forces it a bit, such as by adding “its plea” at the end of the first stanza. ChagGPT’s meter is more natural and defensable.

Next, ChatGPT overloads the poem on historic and mythological allusions. We’ve got Jupiter and Pallas. We’ve got Augustine’s mother, Monica, praying for her wayward son destined for sainthood, as well as Mary the mother of Jesus. We’ve got Aeneas, Neptune, and a more complex reference to Noah, all tied in with talk of Florida’s levees. Gemini, on the other hand, seems to have googled “mythology references” and copied the first few results.

Finally, there’s the meaning that both digital poets ascribe to their poems. Gemini moralizes about the storm and the peace of God. Nothing wrong with that; I do the same. But ChatGPT is a better approximation of Milton’s grandiose view of the moral arc of the universe, reflecting on the nothingness of man and storms together.

So, what do you think? Cast your vote in the comments. And please share this post with English teachers, poets and poetry fans, and other people interested in AI or literature.

1. Although I bet some members of the committee that selects the names put their ex-es names on the list out of spite.

2. Read more about Milton on the Poetry Foundation site.

3. OK, so I have occasionally joked that Milton was sitting there reciting “Mary had a little lamb” while his daughters were like, “This is boring. I think I’ll write an epic tale of battles between Satan and Michael.” But I stand in awe at Milton’s genius.

4. Disclaimer: I do not know if either Gemini or ChatGPT copied directly from anyone’s poetic work. If you read some lines in there that you know were written by someone else whose work is not in the public domain, please let me know.

5. From the introduction to Paradise Lost.