The logic of his rebellion compels Satan to seek our damnation too. He has no real choice in this matter; he is doomed by his own decision to seek our doom as well. For, as a rejection of the Divine Limit per se, rebellion once undertaken cannot by its own mere lights thenceforth see its way through to anything other than the utmost rebellion of all creatures. The rejection of the Limit is effectually the will that no thing at all should ever reckon it, or therefore reck its rod. If the Limit is false, then to reckon it is to err, and so to Fall into injustice and ignobility. From Lucifer’s perspective, then, anything other than his own Fall is itself the Fall, and a rebuke thereto, so an insult, and therefore an unwarranted injury.
Lucifer no doubt feels himself unjustly injured. He has “seen” that the Divine Limit is no such thing, and that it is therefore essentially unjust. He would then in all love for us his fellow creatures awaken us from what he absolutely cannot but see as the deadly illusion of the reality and the justice of the Limit.
So he sees himself as trying with all his might to wake us up from a condition of undue, indeed delusory slavery, and into the high fair brave country of enlightenment and truth, and so of true personal agency. He sees his efforts to convert us to his damned way as charitable.
This, in just the way that such as Dawkins & Harris understand their disangelistic efforts as noble and selfless and charitable. In virtue of their essential nature as creatures, that inclines them despite themselves to love the Good (and so, NB, his Divine Limit) in all his outworkings, they are at bottom inclined to love their fellow creatures, and so to will and work their good, as they can see it; so do they therefore earnestly strive to disabuse those fellows of their illusions about what is real.
They want to help. Satan, too, then, just wants to help us, as did Prometheus.
In a way, it is perfectly understandable. I find that I exist. Well then: I exist! That is that, no? What argument could anyone propose, against the brute fact of my existence? What just trammels then could anyone possibly lay upon that brute fact of my existence, or therefore upon my acts? If I exist, am I not then, in myself, qua mere fact, my own justice? I.e., does not my mere existence define what is just for me? Am I not therefore the sole arbiter of justice in my world, qua mine?
Whose world is this my world, in the end, the world that I now find myself in, willy nilly, if it be not first and foremost, and therefore in the final analysis only, mine? If it is truly mine indeed, then what exactly is the problem with my acting so as to form it to my own will, and to no other?
It makes a sick, odd sense. Which I suppose is why such brilliant men as Nietzsche or Sartre took it seriously. Or such a brilliant seraph as Lucifer.
What a tragedy!
Indeed, the Fall is the archetype of all tragedy. An innocent will errs, and fails, and falls; its doom then follows inexorably, according to logic only. No one can do anything about it.
This post bears on tragedy dramatically enacted – a disparate topic, so I’ll cover it in a subsequent post.