The Temptation of Adam?

Note: What if Adam had been tempted instead of Eve? How would Satan have approached Adam? What tactics would he have used? We may never know, but I’ve taken a crack at spinning the tale myself. The following is a re-telling of the temptation in the Garden, inspired by Milton’s epic, Paradise Lost. Please let me know what you think:

So it was Eve who departed from Adam at her request. She first took a step backwards swaying her body, almost as if she were teasing him, playfully, as if inviting him to pursue her despite her request for temporary solitude (9.386). Adam resisted his urge to go after her. Could she want him to follow? This woman was so hard to understand. Would she ask for one thing and really want another? He decided to just give her the space she plainly asked for, instead of trying to decode or interpret what she wanted. Her company was his desire. But Adam loved Eve, and he refused to bully, or oppress her for the sake of his own desire. Eve’s happiness was a high priority. Thus, they separated for the day, each to their own tasks.

Eve’s absence made Adam feel a bit melancholy. He watched her lightly stepping away, and his heart raced thinking about the way she moved, the sound of her feet, her backward glances, and playful smirks. She pleased him even in her most casual expressions. God did and excellent job with her. The pink scar on his side burned.

On the day before this, pure evil waited in hiding among the untamed shrubs. It was targeting the man. The devil abandoned a previous scheme to tempt the woman for several reasons. From his careful study he found that the woman-creature lives on a cycle. “Not only does her emotions oscillate,” thought the devil, “but her body goes through a physical undulation. Now is not the time to approach the woman, for she is about to bleed. I’ve observed her emotions are strained just prior to this physical phenomenon, making her less tolerant of company. I wonder if this is why she wants temporary respite from the man. Anyway, my objective is to have her eat fruit from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, but during this apex in her cycle, she seems more interested in the cacao bean, and not fruit.

“Besides, am I not great enough to conquer the man? Only the cowardly and fearful go after the smaller game. Why should I, the great cherub, who rules a third of heaven’s army (Rev. 12:4) and a thousand demigods (Milton 1.796), seek out the weaker of the two? (Milton 9.382-83). Am I not up to the challenge of engaging the man? Yes. I AM. I will take man’s worship from his creator, and wear it like a garment before my Enemy.”

Hence, the devil abandoned his plan to tempt Eve. And because of that, he decided the serpent was not the best choice of form any longer. “The subtlest beast of the field might work well for the woman (Milton 9.86),” said Satan, “for her strength is in hair-splitting rhetoric. However, for the man, subtlety would pass over him.”

After careful contemplation, the devil made a new choice of animal. To serve his purpose for the man, he found the fox more cunning than any beast of the field. Now that his mind was made up, the devil made one last lament before possessing the fox:

“This sucks. Here I am, about to take on the form of a smelly dog-like beast to hide my dark intentions. I have sunk to the level of cheap shenanigans to entertain this man. I once sat with the gods of the highest heaven! But now, I am to mix with fur and drool and perform silly animal tricks (Milton 9.160-165). But I will do what it takes. My ambition and commitment to revenge are stronger than my desire to stay separate from dust. How spiteful to me is the man’s Maker! How could he make such a spirit-animal hybrid – and call it his favorite? Disgusting.” (Lewis 37).

Therefore, during the night the devil entered the fox through its nose, and took on all its animal-like instincts – but the fox slept on until morning, and arose with prey on his mind (Milton 9.187-191).

Upon first sight of the man, Satan was still. How could something made from dust so resemble the strength of the Enemy? Obviously, the man was an animal. But an animal that seemed to burst and overflow with the supernatural. The man’s spirit spilled forth from his eyes. The fox fixed his stare on the god-like face of the man. That wonderful, bushy beard was like a mane! The man’s mere presence commanded respect. Every twitch of his face; every ripple of muscle stirred up awe in the fox’s heart. The deeply grooved frown of the man’s mouth combined with his hulking body brought back a chilling memory of the devil’s last civil moments with God. Satan had to repress a reflex of fear. Was he not, after all occupying a body subordinate to the man? Déjàvu flooded his heart. With one stomp of a foot, this muscle-bound man could break every bone in the fox. But Satan’s pride redoubled its strength and his hate rekindled in a burning flame and he strengthened his resolve.

On walked Adam, alone in his contemplation after departing from his lover. But suddenly, an interesting sound distracted him from his thoughts. Up ahead, coming from the vineyard he planted, Adam heard a sound in which he would later call music. As the man moved closer, he saw a large, red, bushy-tailed fox walking in the vineyard on his hind quarters (S.O.S. 2:15). Out of the fox’s mouth flowed a deep, rich Gregorian chant, complete in four-part harmony. Adam’s jaw dropped in astonishment and his legs brought him to a halt. The fox advanced on his hind legs, each step moving in rhythm to the chant, and each syllable pronounced with pious enthusiasm. The sound was incredible. Although the fox sang in a language Adam could not understand, the music was moving, and the sound was heavy. Every time the fox hit a low series of notes, Adam felt the vibrations in his chest. The man pressed his lips together and squeezed his eyes shut, producing a single tear. The fox’s song rose in volume and pitch until finally it resolved with a reverent,

“Aaw-hawh-men!”

The fox then eyeballed Adam, and with a quick, jerky gesture, plucked a large red grape with his paw, popped it into his mouth, and smacked loudly. After licking his lips, he said to Adam, “You’re not who I’m looking for,” and turned around to walk away.

“Do my eyes deceive me?” gasped Adam. “How is it that I hear the voice of four men proceeding from the mouth of a single animal? Do not leave me fox. Please do me the favor of satisfying my curiosity. Tell me, how did you come to speak, to sing, and to do so with such charming appeal?”
“I will spare time from my search for love to tell my story, man,” said the fox. “For you are large and burly and carry an intimidating stare – that almost of a god. Your voice is like thunder, your arms hard as stones, your chest as broad as a boulder, and your legs like tree trunks. I will entertain you for a moment, for you are surely a vision of power. But alas, what I seek is a thing of delicacy and beauty, not strength and grit.

“As a dumb beast, I once roamed the fields without high thinking of any kind. There were no words in my mouth or songs on my tongue. As chance would have it, on one sunny afternoon a sweet fragrance lured my attention. The aroma was better than the smell of any egg and sweeter than honey, so I followed my nose to a towering tree with plentiful leaves and broad, bulb-like flowers. I rushed up into the branches and found these flowers, each one closed over a single fruit. They were unavailable to other beasts because of their height, and inaccessible to birds because of their thick rind. But I, with my clever paws and maw, opened the bulb and ate. Such a taste was intoxicating and full. One taste of this fruit awakened my mind and my appetite for higher things. My body grew larger, my limbs more dexterous. My tongue attained speech and my mind gained understanding. But most importantly, my heart swelled and I learned how to feel passion. A song welled up from my chest and burst out of me! I came to understand I was no longer fettered to the instincts of a lowly beast.

“With these new abilities came a desire to please another being. It is a creature of beauty that I now seek – not some lowly animal. I know there is such a being, because all desires are matched with something to fill them. And when I find this creature of beauty, my songs will enchant her and hold captive her attention for all our lives. She will love only me.”

Then Adam thought, “Who or what does this fox seek? I’ve seen every creature on earth. Indeed I have named them all. There is none of such beauty as he describes that I can think … save one, and that is Eve … oh no!”

A new feeling surged up in Adam’s chest. Something almost tart and electric – it was not a comfortable feeling, but tense and urgent. It beat against his chest and made his mouth dry. This new and unpleasant feeling squirmed inside and gave him cause for alarm. Must he compete for Eve’s love? He surely didn’t want to lose her – she was his own flesh.

Then Adam spoke. “Dear fox, I will trouble you a moment longer. Please show me this tree so that I may eat of its fruit and gain the skill of charm and chant like you.”

“It is not far from here,” replied the fox, “follow me.”

But upon arrival, Adam’s heart sank. “That is the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil,” said Adam, “and of it the LORD commanded me not to eat.”

“Really? No! Don’t misunderstand the LORD, friend!” said the fox. “He surely did not command you not to eat. He merely said if you ate from it you would die. But you surely have the option to eat.”

“Don’t be a fool, fox,” replied Adam. “I have no desire to die.”

“Listen to me, man. You know nothing of death because you have not tasted it. Death does not mean exactly what you think.”

“But,” said Adam, “I know it involves cessation of life, and that cannot be good.”

The fox sighed, shook his head, as if this was something he dealt with often. “Let me explain,” He said in a rather snobbish and pompous tone, as if speaking to a dull pupil. “You see that plush vineyard you planted? That is an example of death. It started out as an ugly brown seed. Had that seed not dried up, died and been buried, it would not have come back as a large, beautiful vine which bears delicious, red grapes. You see? Death is like graduating to something higher.” Then the fox burst forth in a brief song:

For when I took and ate of this fruit,
My life ceased and I died as a brute.
Only to come back again,
Strong, and red, in search of my hen.
If death of this brute produced a new fox,
What would death do to human stock?
Surely a god’s form you would step in,
Impress the LORD with a new life of sin.

Then, when Adam saw the fruit’s result on the fox, that it would bring a “new” life and also make him more appealing to Eve, he took a bulb, ripped off the rind, and ate. The fox quickly ran off twitching his tail.

Then, Adam’s eyes were opened and his desire for Eve twisted out of its original shape, changing from a delightful feeling to a ravenous hunger. As chance would have it, Eve was approaching in the distance. He quickly snatched another fruit and sprinted away from the tree, adjacent to Eve’s approach, to conceal the fruit’s origin. He then uttered three simple words to his bride:

“Come ‘ere Rib!”

Works Cited

Lewis, C.S. The Screwtape Letters. New York: HarperCollins, 1996.

Milton, John. Paradise Lost. London: Penguin, 2000.