Day 17: At the halfway point of Inferno, Dante unleashes a torrent of similes and turns right

Not to get too grammatically geeky, but one could spend a lifetime scouring, analyzing a debating the metaphors that are omnipresent in the Divine Comedy.  In each circle, terrace or sphere, Dante is confronted with the metaphoric representation of a particular virtue or vice.  The whole epic could be described as a metaphor for the transformation of desire.  It is quite interesting, then, that as we are in the center of the first book, Dante unleashing a string of similes, perhaps totally all the similes we have seen so far.  That, and the quite uncharacteristically melodramatic episode that overwhelms Dante at the end of the canto, make this a memorable, unique read. 
We begin right where we left off with the cliffhanger from last canto.  Virgil and Dante are confronted with a beast that emerges from the fiery river.  And here come the similes.  The creature had a face of a man, but his trunk was as a serpent.  His arms were hairy as a wolf or bear.  And his flanks were adorned with knots and circles as elaborate as any turkish tapestry or any web Arachne wove.  The beast arose from the liquid as a boat half submerged.  The beast positioned himself with his tail, which was as a scorpion's, like a beaver defending it's damn.  Dante is descrbing the mythical three faced Geryon, but it has also been speculated that this beast is the fabled Manticore. But what a string of similes! 
There is also another interesting tidbit to do with the trajectory of Dante's quest.  Up until this moment, Dante and Virgil have descended only by turning left.  But here in Canto 17, they turn right.  Virgil even makes a point to say "now we'd better bend our path a little, till we reach as far as that malicious beast which crouches over there."  I have a little theory about this, and am probably way off base.  Their journey is one of descension through hell towards righteousness.  But at this moment, they need the aid of a damned soul in order to traverse the fiery river.  So consequently, in a very brief sidestep, they divert from their path to utilize this damned beast.  It is a moment of using evil for the purpose of good. 
But look at the consequences for this action.  We are privy to Dante the poet unleashing a brief melodramatic exposition, as he observes from the back of the Geryon the scene further down in Inferno.  Dante is overwhelmed by fear and dread, "There i was more afraid of falling off, for i saw fires and I heard laments at which I tremble, crouching and hold fast."  He describes his fear as Icarus making his fateful voyage, as well as Phaethron losing control of the chariot which guides the son on its orbit (again with the similes).  But it is curious, because Dante has been in hell for while now, and seem some pretty horific stuff up to this point.  Does this moment when fear immobilizes him have something to do with the clear departure from their movement left?  It certainly seems to be connected somehow. 
The canto ends with finally another simile.  While Dante was so dsitracted by fear, the Geryon has set him and virgil down, like a falcoln who's flight was unseen by its falconer, returns to his arm.  Once again, Dante and Virgil continue their journey downward to the left.  The paralysis is gone and the similes become metaphors. 

Day 16: Meeting the three as one

Ok, this canto starts off pretty weird.  Dante and Virgil, still in the circle of sodomites, hear "a murmur, like a beehive's hum,"and are confronted by three characters.  They see the clothing style of Dante and recognize that he is from teh same land that they are; Florence.  Dante see the burn marks throughout their bodies and is racked with guilt, which is meant to convey to the reader that these unfortunate souls were on the losing end of the guelph ghebbiline struggle and were burnt alive like so many victims.  While Dante wishes to skirt past them as quickly as possible, Virgil insists that they be given a respectful audience.  The three figures then begin to perform what seems to me like a bizarre acrobatic feat.  In Dante's (translated) words, "They formed a wheel, all three of them together. As champions, naked oiled, will always do, each studying the grip that serves them best, beofre the blows and winds begin to fall, while wheeling so, each one made sure his face was turned to me, so that their necks opposed their feet in one uniterrupted flow." So basically, this apepars to me to be some kind of three man cartwheel, facing dante with all three heads.  The three are named, Guido Guerra, Tegghaio Aldobrandi and Jacopo Rusticucci.  Guerra and Aldobrandi advised the Florentine Guelphs against engaging in battle against the Sienese Ghibellines. They were also responsible for exiling the Ghibellines out of Florence.  Rusticucci, the lesser known of the three explains that it was his "shrewdish wife" which drove him to homosexuality and, consequently, the circle of sodomy.  Dante feels a certain sense of comradery with these "fine souls", as folks fighting on the same side as he was (obviously sodomy notwithstanding.  They are in inferno after all).  The souls are gratfeul for Dante's kind words and are curious about their shared hometown.  Dante laments that the newcomers have brought greed and sin to their Florence.  They sigh, but have a request for Dante.  They yearn for him to tell the living of the good deeds of them.  They only wish to have their name spoken in a positive light, and to be remembered.  This is certainly a request most people would want.  With these words, the three who had become one, broke back into three.  So what do we make of this very deliberate image.  After all, their dialog and request could have been done without the gymnastics. Was it supposed to be some sort of trinity image.  Numerology has significance throughout the Divine Comedy, and the number three has importance amongst mathmeticians (the triangle), masons, christians, etc.  And what to make of the fact that immediately after this encounter, Dante and Virgil descend down into a ravine using a rope that Dante assures is strong enough to catch a leopard.  They reach the bottom of the ravine and come to a sea, out of which a strange figure emerges like the creature formteh black lagoon.  And after hanging on a cliff, we are left on this literary cliffhanger.  I admit I am baffled by this canto.  There are some provocative lines and the image of the three as one is captivating.  I just don't get at what Mr. Alighieri is trying to accomplish with such vivid imagery.  We leave that to the "scholars."  

Day 15: Dante and Brunetto

There is a telling stanza in this canto that brings the reader back to the beginning.  Dante exclaims while walking through the realm of sodomites that he is quite removed from the forest of the suicides.  It was translated as "by now we were so distant from the wood that I should not have made it out where it was-not even if i turned around to look" This may just be Dante situating the reader geographically, but i think there may be more.  The language in Italian, while obviously different, still carries familiar echoes.  It also doesn't seem like much of a coincidence that this line is spoken at almost the exact center of Inferno.  So halfway through the 1st leg of a journey that he begins halfway through his life, Dante stops to inform his reader just how far he has come.  The obscurity of the dark forest of suicides stands merely as a metaphor for the larger distance both Dante and the readers have taken.  We are very, very far from Kansas at this point.  Maybe many less invested and adventurous readers have abandoned the journey.  But those of us who stuck around are given pause to possibly reflect before resuming the descent.
The picture above.  Well, it's one of the famous Dore illustrations he did for the longfellow translation of the Divine Comedy.  It shows the pivotal meeting between Dante and his guardian/teacher/mentor Brunetto Latini.  Despite his damnation, Dante speaks of him with great affection, praising him for his "kind paternital image" and speaks of his eternal gratitude to Latini for teaching him to be a better poet and man.  There is such tenderness in Dante's words that commentators have asked the obvious modern question of whether the relationship between Dante and Latini was deeper than a chaste mentor/protege relationship.  I am not one to speculate on these matters, although it does change the readers perception if one entertains this (and not just for this canto, but the epic in general, especially given the specificity of the dark forest motiff reoccurance in this specific canto).  But it is, regardless of the larger implications, a very sweet moment between teacher and student, and considering how deep into the torments of Inferno we are, I'll take it.

Day 14: The defiant ones

Well, as is evident, my frequency in updating this blog has lessened as of late.  This is an all too common occurance for me.  I begin with great gusto, only to peter out into obsolescence (i usually give up when I forget my password to access it). But I am trying to right the ship.  I choose to be defiant over my own waning creative impulses. 
This canto is another demonstration of Dante's masterful command of creating a terrifying visual enactment of sin.  We are still among the violent sinners.  We are, technically at the boundary between the second and third rings in the violent sphere.  The scenery is typically frightening.  Dante the poet surveys a land on the edge of the suicide forest, divided by the fiery river of blood.  Dante and Virgil descend into an open field.  The ground is composed of sand, populated by countless souls in a variety of poses of dispair.  They are a mishmash, some wallowing flat on the ground, others hunched in fetal positions.  Some were static, while others seemed to possessed to be in constant motion.  Interestingly, the largest group, the walkers, were silent, while those who stand or sit stationary chatter incessantly.  Oh, and by the way, is raining scorching embers, and these souls are unable to quench the burning.  This has to be one of the more striking visual representations of what modern day fundamentalist christians imagine when speaking of the hellfire of the eternally damned.  Dante, noticeably shaken by the wretched scene, sees one soul, a giant among men, defiant against the constant torment of the burning embers.  It is Capaneus, the giant wrrior king who was one of the Seven Against Thebes.  According to legend, Capaneus stood before the wall of Thebes and proclaimed that not even Zeus could stop him from ascending the wall.  Of course, as he is climbing the wall, Zeus strikes him dead with a thunderbolt. (on a side note, defiance was a trait in his household, as his wife Evadne threw herself on his funeral pyre, to demonstrate her love, rather than to live on without him)
Capaneus noticed that Dante had inquired about him to Virgil and spoke up, delviering a pretty badass little speech.  He haughtily proclaimed "That which I was in life, I am in death. Though Jove wear out the smith form whom he took, in wrath...and casts his shafts at me with all his force, not even then would he have happy vengeance."  This is one tough hombre.  He stands here, for all eternity, egging Lucifer and God on.  'Give me your best shot.  I can take it.'  While Virgil tries half heartedly to chastise Capaneus that because of this defiance he is punished all the more, there is almost a tone of respect about him.  Virgil says to Dante that Capaneus wears his defiance over God like a ornaments on his chest.
From here our guides carry on, seeing other characters throughout history that have committed violence against God.  But this image of Capanaeus strikes me as a poignant moment, much like one we will witness with Cato in Purgatory.  For Dante the former warrior, there is a hint of sympathy for people like Capaneus.  Even though he is in Inferno, he deals with his torment on his own terms.  Capaneus, like Dante, is defiant.   

Day 13: Harpies and Forests

So we are still amongst those who have sinned violently, but these are the sinners who defile themselves through suicide.  Dante and Virgil, with Nessus guiding them away from the blood river find themselves among a dark forest.  Sounds familiar doesn't it.  I was reading the notes from Hollander's Inferno translation, which has some very insightful analysis.  I'm not sure why it never occurred to me to connect the dark forest from Canto 1, with this dark forest.  Sometimes we need someone with much more knowlege than ourselves to see the forest through the trees (sorry, the bad joke was just screaming out).  Is Dante trying to tell us something about how bad his state of mind was when he began this journey?  Before we jump to that, let me explain a little about this particular dark forest. 
Perched throughout these trees are the harpies.  The harpies play a fairly memorable role in Virgil's Aenid. Aeneas and his crew land on the small island of Strophades.  Once landed they proceed to begin slaughtering the abundant livestock on the island, and prepare them for a feast.  These animals, however, have protectors on the island in the form of the harpies.  Virgil descibes them as having heads of women and bodies of birds, and twice while Aeneas and his crew are trying to eat do they swarm in and attack them and, in a move any city dwellar dealing with pigeons can relate to, defectate all over the feast.  The harpies in Canto 13 feed upon the leaves of the trees in the grove.  What is horrific, and what Dante finds out by accident when he breaks off a thorn of a tree, is that these trees actually entomb the souls of suicides. When the thorn breaks off, a rivulet of blood trickles down and Dante is forced into a conversation with the soul inhabitting that tree.  So then the harpies are actually consuming parts of the soul trees, which echoes the animalistic nature consuming the the human nature in Canto 12.
But back to Dante and the dark woods.  The question that Hollander poses is a fascinating one.  Is Dante suicidal when he is having his mid-life crises?  It would be hard to imagine that it is an act that he would pursue beyond having the impulse.  In fact, i'd argue it was pretty amazing that Dante would even admidt to having such thoughts.  In medieval Europe, suicide was considered one of the gravest sins.  Now this wasn't always the case.  In ancient greece and during Caesar's time in Rome, the act of defiant suicide was a form of heroism.  One would rather end one's life than be subserviant to a ruler or cause, and this would be a form of honor.  Dante knows this and holds Cato, the most famous of the Roman suicides, with respect and gives him an honored place in the afterlife (he acts as the guide to souls entering purgatorio.  kind of like Charon in Inferno).  But clearly during Dante's time, suicide is a one way ticket to hell, with no chance of escape.  Also interesting in his commentary, Hollander posits that trees hold a special place in the sacrificial imagery of Christianity.  After all, a cross is nothing but a tree.  So would Dante consider his own martyrdom the ultimate act of sacrifice?  It is a bit nebulous as far as what exactly Dante the poet's role is compared to Dante the protagonist.  It sure does seem to me that Dante's use of forests both in the beginning and here is not coincidence.      

Day 12: Examining the beast within

There is some pretty powerful imagery in Canto XXII.  The first lines talked about descending along an alpine bank and seeing "a toppled mass of rock that struck the Adige on its flank, this side of Trent," describing a real life Trent nestled in the Alps.  There are boulders everywhere styming passages.  All paths are redirected to a ravine where the most frightening of beasts, the infamous Minotaur of Crete awaits.  When he sees our travelers he is so inscensed that he begins biting himself, fully inhabiting the animal side of his dualistic self. Dante describes the biting like one whom fury devastates within, and it that terrific stanza fully encapsulates the fury of this circle.  Those confined here exhibits traits far closer to beast than man.  Their anger consumes them, and in this place of destruction and natural fury is the ideal backdrop for such sinners.  The river Flegetonte flows through it, spewing blood.  The minotaur rules here, as do the terrifying herds of Centaurs Dante and Virgil confront.  They manage to slip by teh minotaur because he becomes so inscenced, thinking that the living soul he sees is his vanquisher Theseus, that he cannot function and his fury blinds him.  It is here that Virgil informs Dante about his previous trip down through the circles of Inferno.  The last time he was here, as told in his Aenid, the fallen boulders were intact on the mountain.  In fact Virgil was here right before Christ came down to battle Satan, which is historically accurate (Virgil did live shortly before the historical Jesus of Nazareth).  The battle was so fierce that it changed the topography of the underworld.  Anger manifested in nature.
Virgil points out to Dante the river below, where "those injure others violently, boil."  It really doesn't get much more frightening than that. And yet, it is along these banks that they meet the Centaurs, who gallop around hunting with bows and arrows, consumed in their fury.  They immediately come upon Dante and Virgil, and were it not for Chiron, the most human of the Centaurs and also Achilles' tutor, out two travelers would be pincusions.  Chiron almost shoots them on sight, until he notices that Dante walks not as a soul, but of liveing flesh and blood.  For a brief moment, the beast subsides and reason and humanity bubble to the surface.  Virigl hastily explains that he has diplomatic immunity based on Beatrice's heavenly blessings to the quest.  Chiron offers his own guide through the Centaurs' turf, knowing quite well that the others' human sides are buried much deeper and will most likely shoot first and ask second.  Thus, Nessus, whose blood stained Hercules' cloak causing him to commit suicide, is their protector.  Hard to imagine a more intimidating guide than the one who bested humanity's most famous hero.
While walking through this hell, they meet observe a pretty impressive collection of characters.  Alexander the Great is here, as is Dionysius. Sesto, son of Pompey is mentioned as are several other ruthless tyrants and rulers, including Atila the Hun. 
The cacophany of rage, so exemplified by the raging river of blood, is deafening on these pages.  It almost hurts my ears to read this canto.  It is a sign of impressive poetic skill that Dante perfectly manifests the inner rage that blinds all other senses. I leave you with Dore's minotaur.
 
  

Day 11: Dante adjusts to the smell

I read a fair amount of television criticism.  Let me clarify.  I read a lot about the show Breaking Bad, what I consider to be one of the most breathtaking visual experiences I've ever encountered.  But this isn't going to be a long-winded essay comparing Walter White's descent into moral depravity to Dante's decent into the underworld.  That would be a false premise, in that Dante goes through a transformative journey from sin to virtue, whereas Walter just goes deeper and deeper into decay.  But this is more about a particular phenomena in long form storytelling that has been affectionately called table setting.  In serialized television and it's precursor the serialized novel, there are certain chapters in the story that no forward momentum, or minimal action to move the plot along, occurs.  This is slightly misleading, as the best shows or novels, disguise these very essential pieces of information within these chapters.  In essence, sometimes the most critical ideas or themes are introduced in what used to be called filler episodes. 
Canto 11 is a prototypical example of a chapter when there is no forward movement, and yet the entire Divine Comedy rests upon some of the concepts explained within.  Dante and Virgil have rested, and Dante wants to know what gives.  Virgil explains that here in the land of heretics the stench is overwhelming to the visitor.  One must adjust their olifactory organs in order to proceed.  He seems to be saying, if you are so focused on how bad it smells, you're going to miss a whole lot about what you are about to witness. It's at this moment that Dante introduces, rather sheepishly, a metatextual explanation.  Virgil is going to use this moment of rest to expound upon the architecture of the lowest circles of hell to Dante, and thus to the reader.  The remaining two circles are Violence and Fraud.  Each contain within them three smaller circles.  With violence, one can sin against their neighbor, themselves, and God, with violence against God being the gravest sin.  What is most interesting at least to me as a modern reader, is that Usuary is how Virgil describe violence against God.  It is, to a medieval mind lie Dante's, so grave because it runs contrary to nature.  He relates it to sodomy.  It's difficult to see the correlation between chargin interest for loans, and sodomy (which in modern terms doesn't seem quite the grave sin it was, but is still considered by many folks to be pretty bad)  So those who charge interest are committing violence against God, even if it is in metaphorical terms. 
Virgil also speaks at length about the sins of fraud, which are graver sins than those of violence.  Once again, this is a confusing thing to the modern mind, which seems to put acts of violence above all others when weighing the gravity of sins.  But to lie or steal or manipulate with deception can cause far more damage to humanity than one individual act of violence, at least according to Virgil, and thus to Dante the poet.  A lie can infect a whole generation, can alter history in ways that violence does not.  Whether you agree with this is beside the point.  The fact is, this is Dante's poem, and he is the god-head of this world.  I must say, it's a provocative position, one that I have spent a lot of time ruminating upon.  I dare say i've thought more on this canto than a majority of the action packed cantos.  It's when "nothing happens" that we are allowed to ask the bigger questions, not distracted by the vivid imagery or unforgettable characters.  It's kind of like Breaking Bad, where an episode puts the two main character in one room for an hour and produces a compelling chapter of ideas not action.  Nothing happens and yet everything changes from the perspective of the consumer.  Dante enriched and enlivened his epic by stopping and talking.  Remarkable.

Day 10: A Room with a View

Dante is nothing if not a fan of irnoic punishment.  In this Canto, he and Virgil are confronted with quite a striking scene.  They are amidst a vast graveyard of open sepulchers and graves filled with fire.  Dante, like the rest of us, wonders what to make of this scene.  It sounds like the perfect setting for a zombie movie, and that comparison might not be too far off.  Virgil explains that this is the territory of Epicureas and his devotees.  Now for those of you unfamiliar with this philosopher, he is carpe diem personified.  Epicureas believed that life truly ends at death, so enjoy it while you can!  Hedonism is an offshoot of Epicureanism.  He was Richard Dawkins and Christopher Hitchens millenia before there skepticism ignited modernity.  So Dante the poet thought the most deserving of punishments for these unfortunate souls was an eternity in open graves, fully aware of their grave (sorry for the pun; just couldn't help myself) but confined to their small plots of land.  It's some of the closest imagery to what we conceive of us ghosts today.  Lost souls, trapped in a blind prison, for their crime of heresy.
There is a wonderful exchange in this canto that illuminates more of Dante the man's personal philosphy.  Dante is confronted by a soul named Farinata.  Farinata is wonderfully described as rising out of his grave from the waist up, full of great contempt for hell.  This is one bitter man, having realized that he bet on the wrong horse.  The first words he speaks (or rather spits) to Dante are "Who are your ancestors." You see, Farinata was a Gheibelline, while Dante was a Guelph, in the war for political power of Florence.  He, like Dante, was outcast from Florence.  There is a bit of a verbal sparring between Dante and Farinata, with Dante seemingly grabbing the upper hand by proclaiming that while both he and Farinata's families were exiled, Farinata's clan never returned, while Dante's kept coming back. 
In another fascinating detail, Farinata explains to Dante that the heretics, and more broadly all souls in Inferno, have the ability to see events in the future, but as these events come closer to the present they become fuzzier.  Long term view is that this ability shows these souls that they are never getting out.  All they have is their suffering.  The future is bleak for them.  No end in sight.  And sight is a big theme here.  Their lack of vision beyond the mundane has been realized in their eternal tombs.  Each has his view only of their fiery grave.  Even temporal perspective is skewed so that all they know is suffering.  It's no wonder that Farinata is embittered.  

Day 9: The unseen

Today I would like to focus on a specific line from Canto 9.  Dante and Virgil have confronted the three Furies Megera, Aletto and Tesifone, who writhe in agony, eternally living in desparation that Theseus' assault upon them will be met with teh vengeance of Medussa the Gorgon.  She is there as well, still capable of turning men to stone (or in Dantean terms capturing the Dante the poet and keeping in Inferno for eternity).  Virgil physically grabs Dante to turn him away from Medussa, unconvinced that simply covering his eyes will protect Dante. It's then that Dante the poet unleashes the great line
"O you posessed of sturdy intellects, observe the teaching that is hidden here beneath the veil of verses so obscure"
This phrase has a whole lot of hidden meanings.  And it's conspicuous place in Inferno is not to be overlooked.  Dante the poet is nothing if not meticulous, and it's not coincidence that this particular stanza appears immediately after the mention of the Gorgon.  The veiled Medussa, whose look turns a human to stone.  There's a pretty obvious slew of metaphors.  To remove the veil is to unlock knowledge, which is a powerful tool and a dangerous one to anyone unprepared to understand that knowledge.  Dante has been privy to all manner of hidden knowledge on his journey.  The things he has seen are not for the living, and have ramifications.  Dante narrowly escapes peril after peril, being saved by his guides.  To be seduced by an idea is as dangerous is an action, and often it is anger that festers in the soul causing sinful actions.  This is a topic to be explored at greater length in the Purgatorio, which is meant to rid the psyche of the thought of sin.  But here is Dante at the edge of the river styx, being seduced to let the anger take over.  It's like when the Emperor in Star Wars senses Luke's anger and tries to enhance it, make it fester within him so he rots from within and is taken over by malicious thoughts and permanently turned to the dark side.  The emporer knows that anger is a seed, sometimes taking years to grow into hate which will inevitably drive out the joy and goodness inherent int he human soul.  It is a gnawing sensation, one that is echoed by the fallen angels Dante meets later in the canto.
Knowledge can be a dangerous thing.  The lifted veil can be illuminating, but it can be damning for the unprepared.  Milton explored this at length in his masterpiece Paradise Lost.  Lucifer gains knowledge he cannot understand which leads to rebellion and the creation of hell.  Adam and Eve eat from the tree of knowledge, unprepared for the epiphanies present in free will.  Knowledge can weigh on a soul, like the souls buried to their heads, unable to manage the weight of a knowledge obscured.  It morphs into an anger unchecked.  A knowledge unearned.  It's enough to turn one to stone.

Day 8: Things are getting angry

Well, this canto is full of some scary imagery.  We have a maniacal Phlegyas storming towards Dante and Virgil, assuming they are souls trying to escape this wrathful circle.  Phlegyas is the angry boatman on the river Styx (no relation to the prog-rock 70's band of Sail Away infamy).  With his entrance we have a lot of fire.  Phlegyas is in inferno because he set fire to one of Apollo's temples, and Apollo took offense to this act of pyromancy.  Never mind that Apollo raped one of Phlegyas' daughters.  However justified the act was, it was done in a frenzy of wrath.  Dante and Virgil get a terrifying glimpse of a tower with two flames flickering a signal to another flame far off.  Commentators have speculated that the two flames are lit as a signal announcing out unwanted guests, ala the flame network from the Lord of the Rings.  But since no other mention was given as to the nature of the flames, that is pure speculation.  Fire is an important symbol here.  The fire that burns within.  The wrath that can erupt in each of us. Dante seems to claim that we all have the capacity to lay a torch to our lives, or souls, just as Phlegyas did.  It's that fire that caused Filippo Argenti, a real life Florentine, to slap Dante in the face.  Ad it is also that fire that causes Dante to once again betray his own human sensibilities and place yet another historically inconsequential individual in his epic.  The short fuses that lead to fires show Phlegyas' instant overeaction when he believes Dante and Virgil are going defecting for nicer circles.  It is Dante's own distrust of Muslim religion that he places mosques among the burning muddy residue of the river Styx (a river, in Greek mythology, of fire).  We are getting all the signals that this Inferno is quite a different beast that we have previously encountered.  These are the major sins.  The flames are a deep red.  The fallen angels by the thousands gather, incensed by the sight of a mortal free to traverse the land they have been imprisoned in for millenia. 
And then Dante does something that for most of the history of literature has been considered a gimmick; poor writing.  He steps away fromt eh narrative to address the reader directly.  He actually does this several times throughout the Divine Comedy, and every time it is slightly jarring.  The angels are threatening Virgil, demanding Dante to stay here while he proceeds.  Dante is so nervous and fearful that he jumps out of the poem.  The situation seems so dire that Dante needs to stress his own lack of faith that this journey is by no means just a tourist jaunt.  The wrathful fire of these lost souls so overwhelms Dante that he needs to again be assured by Virgil that no one can stop them.  But the wrathful, their sin so viscerally embodied in the pervasive fire, go so far as to slam the gates to the city of Dite, denying their passageway.  This is a moment made for the modern adventure.  How will our venturers escape?  Who is the mysterious soul that Virgil insists will open the gates for them.  One thing is certain, we a reno longer in Kansas.

Day 7: Dante the Disrupter

No, the title of this post does not refer to the new brand of nerf weaponry (although I am going to patent the name).  Today we're going to talk about the ramifications of Dante's personal exploration fo the underworld, just as a fun little excercise.
I always keep in mind that this work is fiction first and foremost.  Dante did not take any journey, beyond the psychological exploration of himself.  However, let's pretend this is an actual account.  Dante did venture through Hell, Purgatory and Heaven.  Every person, angel, demon, and creature was there and very real.  What would be the impact of such a journey, then?  Certainly, it would be the talk of the underworld for years, if not centuries.  Almost every soul he meets is stunned by his appearance.  His very presence upsets the balance, causing disruption and doubt throughout.  Imagine yourself stuck in Inferno.  Everything that has occurred in the world of suffering has followed some pretty firm rules, foremost of them is that this is the realm of the dead.  When a living soul saunters through your misery, it messes with the order of things.  If Dante can just walk through here like it is a ride at Disneyland, who's to say I can't, eventually, escape this place.  Maybe eternity has exceptions.  Maybe it's all a big farce.  Maybe I'm not suffering, just dreaming.  And maybe, Lucifer, or even God, isn't as all powerful as previously thought.  Can you imagine what was going through the guardian of the terrace of Avarice, PLuto's, mind, when we meet him?  He is noticeably distraught, exclaiming "Pape Satan, Pape Satan alleppe!".  He clearly fears the reaction Dante and Virgil will receive from the underlord, as well as what punishment might be in store for himself for allowing them to traverse his territory.  Virgil casually dismisses him, stating that whatever power he may have, Lucifer's got no jurisdiction here. That's crazy.  You're on his turf.  Presumably, security has spotted Dante and Virgil.  And yet, his hands are tied.  They've got diplomatic immunity.  So what does Pluto tell his minions when they sit down for lunch.  They've all got the same question.  And what if Pluto relays the same message he received?  Lucifer can't stop this human and oh yeah, he's being led by one who was supposed to be trapped in Limbo for eternity. Think of the dissent among the staff.  In one fell swoop, the entire system will be questioned.  Lucifer's absolute authority will never recover it's complete autonomy.  And I know, many folks will say, God is the ultimate authority, but it is a unisvers built upon very precise rules, ones stating that once you are in one place in Inferno, you aren't going anywhere.  Christ did save Moses and Abraham and those folks, but they were given and express ticket to Heaven.  There was no tour of the rest of Inferno and Purgatory.  And how is Virigl going to feel after this?  He gets to have a little vacation, acting as tour guide for Dante.  When he returns, he will have knowledge of a variety of terraces and will actually get a glimpse of Heaven.  Inferno will be much, much worse for him.  And the jealousy will be profound.  Homer and Ovid won't let you sit at their table anymore. 
Joking aside, it does create chaos where order presided.  It creates hope where dispair was pervasive.  It might be the most interesting thing to happen in the underworld since Orpheus went to find Eurydice.  I can't imagine the staff meeting afterwards.

Day 6: Dante gets personal

When we think of the luminary figures in history, it is difficult to separate the work from the man.  We like to pretend that the work, so enlightening, so inspiring, so perfect, reflects the individual responsible for it.  But it is never that simple.  I can't tell you how many times i've had to reconcile my own need to elevate those who create the things that inspire me so, only to realize just how despicable, how flawed, how perfectly human are those authors.  I would have hated to be around Miles Davis, a prickly bitter human being whose music aches with beauty.  Michaelangleo's sculptures and paintings move me to tears, and yet I don't imagine I would enjoy being around him for more than an hour.  And here we have Dante, a notorious jerk even among irrascable artists, showing his all too human side in Canto 6.
Canto 6 demonstrates why Dante is going on this journey.  He has been exiled from his hometown of Florence, and is quite bitter about it.  He is wandering in the dark forest because he put his allegiance behind the losing side of a power struggle for the control of Florence, and he is not happy about the results.  So he attempts to castigate those who wronged him, even damning the city itself to hell, as some form of cathartis for his own misfortune.  It is a very human impulse, but wow does Dante come across as bitter and damaged. 
First a bit of backstory.  Florence in the 13th century was really coming into its own as a powerful city-state.  It was an economic center, much like New York is today.  The currency for commerce was the Florin.  The textile industry was about to take off.  The pope, Boniface VIII, was in bed with the bankers of Florence, pushing his own agenda with some pretty spectacular power grabs to consolidate all political, economic, and spiritual decsions to be held under the papal jurisdaiction.  The pope, like many of the industry leaders in Florence, recognized the prosperity of the city as an opportunity for power grabs.  And Dante judges them all for it, castigating all involved to the circle of Inferno where simony and greed are punished.  Now none of this would have made it into the Commedia were it not for the fact that Dante, in the power struggle between the White Guelphs, which Dante alligned himself, and the Black Guelphs, who were supported by the Pope (mostly because they wanted more direction from Rome than the white side who yearned for greater autonomy).  When the Black side eventually triumphed, Dante was exiled, never to step on Florentine soil again. 
Obviously, this traumatic experience scarred Dante, and he really had no course of action beyond protest and revenge through art.  But one has to approach this canto with a certain sense of irony.  Here's a poet, a very human man, writing a treatise on the fallible nature of man. This man devotes an entire section of Inferno to those who wronged him.  The characters here are mostly ancillary and personal, with the exception of Pope Boniface VIII.  The first soul he interacts with is a man named Ciacco, lost to history as merely an acqaintance of Dante's who wronged him.  Gone are Homer, Aristotle and Aenas.  Here comes Arrigo, Rusticucci, and Lamberti. 
The imagery here is again quite striking.  It is a bog, unceasing rain, hail and snow.  It stinks.  Cerebus, the three headed dog who guards the entrance to hell in greek mythology wanders around snarling, indiscriminitely clawing at greedy souls.  But if I may allow a small chuckle, the great beast is pretty easily tamed.  When he notices Dante and Virgil, he approaches them and roars.  Virgil proceeds to almost casually throw a clod of dirt into his mouth.  Immediately, Cerebus is satiated.  Like a Doberman with a juicy raw steak, he pays no more mind to Dante and Virgil.  This echoes Dante's own personal distaste for those who inhabit this greedy place.  They are so easily swayed by the almighty florin.  It didn't take much to placate those souls who removed the foundation from under Dante's feet.  He is disgusted and shows his disgust through the pitiful place he has castigated those who wronged him to. 
Beware the power of the poet.  Long after you've been relegated to the footnotes of history, he will, again and again through each generation of readers, subject you to the filth and squallor of his vengeance.

Day 5: MInos and the lover's swoon

Well now we are getting somewhere!  Canto 5 is where the action begins.  It is the beginning of what most people think of when you say Inferno, and the Divine Comedy.  It is technically the second tier, but as we discussed last time, the 1st tier is a state of Limbo, neither here nor there.  Now Dante and Virgil come face to face Minos who presides over the gates of of Hell, assigning souls to their respective stations of eternal damnation.  For those unaware, in Greek mythology Minos is King Minos of Crete.  He was quite a nasty fellow, responsible for the Cretan tradition of every nine years selecting seven young boys and girls to be eaten by the Minotaur in Daedalus' labyrinth.  Because of this, when he died he became judge of the underworld.  In Dante's Inferno when a soul is judged, Minos' tail (he is in, presumably demon form) wraps around himself.  The number of times it wraps indicates the tier of Inferno.  The souls in this tier, having seen Minos' tail wrap twice, are those who committed the sin of lust.
This canto, save the famous Canto 32 and Ugolino, has more commentary than any other.  Most of this is concerned with the star cross lovers Paolo and Francesca.  I won't say much about this couple, but I do love the imagery of two youngsters succumbing to passions after reading the stories of Lancelot.  It is a very human moment, one most of us can relate to.  One can easily imagine being swept away by a romantic story, only to come face to face with the tragic consequences later.  Francesca comes to Dante with gentle sighs, tugging the heart strings, knowing that she is interlocked forever in a forced embraced.  Pure shakespeare.  What impresses me most about this tier is that great imagery that Dante creates.  The souls of the lustful swirl like tempests, creating a hurricane of emotion.  There goes Tristan, Paris, Aeneas' Dido, all lost in the lover's twirl.  I have to leave this one with Dante's own magnificent words.
"Even as doves when summoned by desire, borne forward by their will, move through the air with wings uplifted, still, to their sweet nest, those spirits left the ranks where Dido suffers, approaching us through the malignant air, so powerful had been my loving cry."
    

Day 4: Limbo; How low can you go?

I have often thought about placing myself within Dante's conception of the underworld.  Specifically, what would be the most interesting section to reside for eternity.  I would make a strong case that no other part of the Divine Comedy contains such an impressive collection of fascinating souls as does Limbo.  Limbo, for those not aware of the Catholic or Dantean view of the afterlife, is the placed reserved for those souls that have not been baptised.  The souls inhabiting this space are an amalgamation of folks.  Unlike the rest of the afterlife, there is no commonality between these souls in Limbo other than their lack of baptism.  There are great men and women, as well as despicable ones.  It is everlasting and inescapable (save several notable exceptions), but not altogher unpleasant.  Dante makes a note that "there was no outcry louder than the sighs that caused the everlasting air to tremble. The sighs arose from sorrows without torment."  All the souls have a very pale pallor, and Dante noticed that upon entering Limbo, Virgil's complexion morphed to a similar shade.  Virgil explained that this he shares the fate of those unfortunates who were born before Christ, thus unable to receive the soul cleansing of a baptism.  The only souls that escaped are the notable, virtuous characters occupying the New Testament.  Moses, Adam, Abel, Abraham, David, Rachel and "many others" (who these others are is something not explained, but let's assume there's a Solomon or a Saul in the mix).  These lucky folks were only rescued by Christ literally descending and ushering them out.  But everyone else is stuck.
What interests me, though, is the all-star collection of brilliant minds left behind.  The foundations of western philosophy are all present.  Socrates, Aristotle, Plato, Democritus, and Heraclitus, to name a few.  Euclid, Ptolemy, and Galen are there, as are some really interesting historical figures, such as Electra, Hector, Ceasar and Aenas.  Saladin is there, but is "standing apart." Dante's literary predecessors are all gathered as well.  Homer, Ovid, Lucan, Horace and Virgil (obviously) are present.  In a very interesting meta-textual moment, the poets invite Dante to join their ranks, being "sixth among such intellectuals."  As I mentioned in an earlier post, Dante is really showing some hubris and arrogance here, placing his work and himself among the great epic composers of antiquity.
What a collection of souls!  Can you imagine the conversations? To be a fly on the wall while Ceasar and Socrates chat.  Or Saladin and Aristotle?  Ovid and Homer engaging in poetry slams!  I have to say, other than one or two spheres in paradise, no other area comes close to this.  And Limbo bests them all for sheer variety.  It reminds me of a Simpsons episode where Homer goes to heaven and watches a game of ping pong between Benjamin Franklin and Jimi Hendrix.  A part of me wonders if Dante the poet, by inviting himself to be part of the gang of five, somehow thought that this was the place to be as well.  Food for thought, as I imagine the epic ping pong game between Hector and Aenas, or the all-night limbo party.  How low can you go, Ptolemy?

Day 3: The Undecided

This summer I was traveling and wanted to good "summer travel" novel.  You know what I mean.  One of those books easily available in airports and one's you would be scoffed at for reading by snobbish bookies.  I choose one by the current lord and master of the critically scorned, mass media beloved Dan Brown.  His newest is called "Inferno" and is centered around the Divine Comedy.  Well, not really centered, but Dante and the Divine Comedy play an important role in the narrative, guiding the decisions by both the protagonist (Robert Langdon, aka Tom Hanks) and the Antagonist, who is yet another Brown villain ensconced in a global conspiracy hell bent on the destruction of modern life.  This is not a book review.  While there were many things is dislike about Mr. Brown's stylistic choices, he certainly knows his way around a blockbuster novel, and the backdrops he chooses are pretty interesting. 
He opens the novel stating "the darkest places in hell are reserved for those who maintain neutrality in times of moral crises." It's a compelling statement, one that plays instrumental in the action of the novel.  Unfortunately it is categorically incorrect, if he is referring to the architecture of Dante's Inferno. 
In the beginning of Canto 3, Dante and Virgil are confronted with an inscription on the gateway to hell.  It is a pretty harrowing statement, saying abandon your hope all who enter.  You aren't getting out of here ever.  Yet before they take this first step into the true underworld, Dante is dsitracted by the sounds of countless wails and sighs.  He asks Virgil about this, and he explains that what he is hearing are the sounds of the souls rejected by hell.  They "lived without disgrace and without praise."  They have become shadows, ghosts, not good enough for purgatory or heaven, but also not bad enough for hell.  This may seem curious to the modern mind.  Why would any soul cry out, yearning for the torments beyond the gateway to inferno?  But for Dante and the medieval mind, to just exist is a failed life.  Dante has no need for those who cannot make a stand for anything in life.  Those that just live he dsregards as worthless.  The souls in Hell, while despicable, are still more worthy of mention than those who didn't choose between a virtous of malicious life.  They share this space with the angels who, during the era when Lucifer Morningstar rejected God, neglected to side with either God or Lucifer.  I am reminded of the famous quote in Paradise Lost where Lucifer claims it is better to reign in Hell than serve in Heaven.  Infamy is apparently more desirable than anonymity.  One wonders what Dante would think of the Buddhist Zen mindset of detachment from the worldly virtues and vices.
So those indecisive souls don't even get into the afterlife.  They aren't invited to the dance, even if the dance includes eternal torture and damnation.  According to the ferry man, Charon, who guides Dante and Virgil across the river Acheronte, the souls who have incurred the wrath of God desire punishment.  "Celestial justice spurs them on, so that their fear is turned to desire."  But these lost souls, when hearing Charon's speech gnash their teeth and wince, knowing that as they abandoned God in their waking life, they in turn are denied by God the afterlife. 

Day 2 - Virgil and the The Hero's companion

Every soul needs some help along the way.  Once you break out of the mundane and decide to enter the dark forest of transformation, a mentor or guide is essential to aide the wanderer.  Joseph Cambpell speaks of the guide as essential to the Hero's journey. 
"For those who have note refused the call, the first encounter of the hero's journey is with a protective figure...What such a figure represents is the benign, protecting power of destiny."

While only you can take that first step, the second and third, maybe even the 103rd, require some external hand.  Ulysses (or Odysseus) had Athena and Hermes,  Luke had Obi-wan, and Aeneas had Sybill to guide him through the underwold in the Aeneid.  The Aeneid is the work that Dante was mot influenced by when composing his own epic through the underworld, so naturally he would choose its author, a like minded poet who strived to create a work of art that would serve as a formative document of the then burgeoning community we have since named Rome and Romans. Dante had similarly lofty ambitions, wanting his comedy to be an addition to the Holy Scriptures.  So when Dante says in lines 7 though 10 "o muses, oh high genius, help me now. o memory that set down what i saw, here shal your excellence reveal itself'", i really think he is working on a textual and meta-textual level.  On one hand, Dante the pilgrim recognizes that the path through the underworld is unknown to mortals and the way is fraught with pitfalls.  Without a guide, it is a fools journey.  This echoes the many Hero's journeys that came before La Divina comedia, as well as the countless adventure tales and blockbuster movies that have made use of this narrative device. 

But the other level, the one in which Dante the poet reveals himself, is one in which he reaches out of the text into the realm of creative inspiration.  He is, after all, trying to add his work to the pantheon of eternal epic poetry.  Just like Homer and Virgil before him, he offers a prayer to the muses, the ancient unknowable forces fo the universe that have inspires the artist of this world to create their masterworks.  They are his guide, and Virgil is the physical manifestation of the muses.  He is Dante's most obvious source of inspiration and influence. By recruiting the muses, and therefore the guide Virgil as chosen by the muses (i.e. God the prime mover), this essential validates the journey and informs the reader that the protagonist, as either Dante the poet or Dante the pilgrim, is destined to succeed. After all how many myths, action movies, or adventure novels end with the Hero failing?  It simply doesn't happen outside of current postmodern sensibilities, and even then it is rare. 

It is a feat of chutzpah and some might say hubris that Dante begins this work, already placing it amongst the epics that had been written centuries (or even millenia) before him.  It is a purposeful act.  Dante the poet and Dante the pilgrim were fated to succeed.  What so amazing is that Dante did succeed, and many folks (myself included) believe that he surpassed his poetic guide.  Dante surpassed Virgil.  The poet becomes the muse, ready to inspire the next soul venturing into the dark forest.

1st Day, 1st Canto, 1st step forward

( A brief note: i will try when possible to stick to Allen Mandelbaum's English translation, as it is my favorite of those that I have read.  Unless of course the topic is translation.)

Day 1
It begins with "Midway upon the journey of life, i find myself within a dark forest, for the straightforward path was lost".  Dante informs the reader that he is lost in life, unsure as to what to do next.  This sounds suspiciously like a mid-life crises.  Unfortunately for Dante, the world was about 750 years away from the sports car, so he wrote an epic poem. It begins with a lacking in one's own life.  We all look for exterior remedies, quick-fixes, or solutions to crises that can only be answered by looking within.  That is for most of us a terrifying prospect, because you expose yourself to a lifetime of regrets, fears, anger and pain.  But there is also joy, bliss, and hope, if you search hard enough.  And that is what this whole epic is about.  It's a work of fiction.  Dante did not actually go to the afterlife.  He journeyed to his inner self, through his own darkness out through his own divinity.  It is Dante trasnforming his own desires, showing us his own artistic representation of finding a path to the interior heaven.  All of us have this capacity, if we are brave enough to face the darkness. 
But before Dante can even start down the path, he is confronted with three beast.  I wrote about this in my last blog, so I'm going to do a little copy and paste, because I rather liked what i wrote before.  I am quite certain in Dante's Inferno, this sort of self-congratulatory business would get me a nice place amongst the prideful.

Before Dante is united with Virgil, he encounters three beasts; a Leopard, a Lion and a Wolf.  There have been a variety of interpretations of what these beasts symbolize, but the common line is they represent lust pride and avarice respectively.  This is relatviely easy to recognize.  In Canto I, Dante meets the leopard, who is "very quick and lithe and covered in spotted hide."  The leopard, in all of its lusty litheness, obstructs Dante from his path several times.  It's fascinating that even before Dante is allowed to begin true physical, psychological and spiritual transformation, he is obstructed from initiating the process.
After becoming frustrated at trying to find the path, the sun arises and Dante seemed to be looking forwarded to seeing the leopard again, which strengthens the case that the leopard does indeed represent lust.  However, Dante doesn't see the leopard.  He comes face to face with a lion. Dante says that "his head held high and ravenous with hunger-even the air around him seem to shudder."  It's the head held high line that clues most folks into the pride sin.  Well, that and the fact that we are trained to associate the lion with pride (it is, afterall, what we call a whole bunch of them).  Dante cowers before this menacing symbol, but is quickly confronted by the third beast, the wolf. He says that "she seemd to carry every craving in her leanness; she had aleady brought dispair to many."  So this is avarice, the unquenchable greed that has afflicted many before Dante. Dante was so afraid of the wolf that she actually scared him out of the light back into the darkness.  Very fascinating symbolic imagery.  Dante is clearly struggling with the very idea of examing these very human tendencies.  He is at the place so many of us are when we see the need to change.  We recognize our lives are filled with happiness, which is a great first step.  But that second step, actually doing something about it, is filled with fears.  We have to acknowledge the things that make us unhappy, even if it means staring down leopards, lions and wolves. Oh my.

I have a couple of new thoughts (and I promise not all posts will be as lengthy as this one.  There's a bit of set-up that needs to happen.  I had originally wanted to limit myself to 100 words per day/post, but immediately realized that that was never going to happen.  But i promise more brevity) 
Is it any wonder that if you walk into any bookstore, the self-help section is one of the largest in the entire store.  And is it a coincidence that we Americans are some of the most unhappy people on Earth?  We spend so much time trying to find just the right book that will unlock the secret to happiness, but refuse to look ourselves in the mirror. That reflection shows those beasts. 

A final thought structural thought.  I am convinced that Dante did not intend for this first Canto to act as "Canto 1".  The entire epic is filled with numerology, specifically Trinity numerology.  Three books, 33 Cantos in Purgatory and Paradise.  Why 34 in Inferno?  Wouldn't 99, or three pairs of 33's be a much more symbolically meaningful division?  I've heard arguments for both sides, and it does appear that original versions do in fact have 100 cantos, so I guess that's what we have to go on.  But it's always bugged me, as I know how meticulously Dante mapped out everthing in his epic. 

Until next time, take that first step into the dark forest.  It's worth it.
 

Welcome to the beginning!

Here we are.  Standing before the dark forest.  Unsure whether to proceed.  So many of life's decisions, be they major life changing events or simply what flavor of Skittles to eat next, begin with the uncertainly of choice.  With choice comes decision, and with decision comes consequences.  There's a good reason why Dante claims that those remaining indifferent have a special place amongst the damned, especially in times of great crisis.  Whether one takes this view as scripture depends entirely upon how you engaged with the piece of literature La Divina Comedia.  And that, my friends, will be a central theme of this blog/project.  I am of a mindset that every once in a while, something is created by humanity that it has the capacity to alter one's consciousness and truly affect an individual's perception on the life they lead.  It confronts us and demands that questions be asked.  It may not provide concrete answers.  Indeed, it's quite possible that it will lead to many more questions, as Dante's masterpiece has done for me.  But life is all about the questions, and searching for the answers to those questions.  So when one of my friends acquaintances, relatives, co-workers, etc. ask me just what is it that attracts me to this piece of poetry written 800 years ago, my initial response is that it acts like a mirror.  The deeper i gaze into the work, the more i find out about myself.  This happens with many, many great works of creation.  Certainly the major religious texts can act this way.  I am certain that there are pieces of music that have informed me of aspects of my inner self, as there are paintings, works of architecture, ballets, plays, movies, televsion shows.  The list is too long and too subjective. 
I have started several Dante blogs, and abandoned them for a variety of reasons, mostly my own neglect and lack of follow through.  I begin this blog with a slightly different approach. Call it the breaking bad approach.  I know the ending, or rather, the bookend.  I have, after this first introductory rambling, limited myself to 100 postings, each coinciding with the 100 Cantos of The Divine Comedy.  I don't intent this to be a retelling; in fact there may be posts that seem only to allude to the Canto of the day.  There are far more adept literary critics for that type of analysis.  If you want a recap of the story, well, Dante is having a midlife crisis, finds himself in the afterlife, journeys from hell to purgatory and finally to the throne of God in Paradise, all the while learning about his own need to transform his desires.  No, this is my meager attempt to explore many different aspects of the work as mirror to one's own experiences.  I want to look at the many layers, sometimes gazing at the numerology, other times the hisotircal significane, still other times the mystical connotations, and yes, even the plot itself.  All that, plus whatever connections I can make with modernity.  After all, these dusty old tomes are considered "timeless" for a reason.  I hope i can bring some of that out.  Until the next, first post, when I theorize as to why I believe there are actually 99 Cantos, plus an introduction.