Paradiso (The Divine Comedy series Book 3)
Page 50
61–63. The “unenlightened” theory of astral influence sponsored by the ancients (and possibly by Plato) resulted in the naming of the planets for the powers (and limitations) they conferred on human beings. Dante’s version supersedes that theory and restores free will to human conduct. [return to English / Italian]
62. The exceptions among the ancients were, naturally, the monotheistic Hebrews. [return to English / Italian]
64–117. Dante’s first question, dealt with second because it has less “venom” in it (verse 27), finally has its day in court. That it is less potentially dangerous to the health of the soul does not mean that it is not worrisome, as the amount of space it receives now (over fifty lines) attests. It, too, centrally involves freedom of the will. [return to English / Italian]
64–66. Beatrice suggests that the protagonist’s failure to understand the precise rules that govern the keeping of vows, unlike the larger issue of freedom of the will, is less likely to interfere with his love for her, his guide to the truth found in God. His potential problem with his second “doubt” is a total one, while this one is only partial. [return to English / Italian]
67–69. Beatrice offers up another paradox (see her argument in Purg. XXXIII.94–99 that Dante’s inability to remember his sins is the very proof that he committed them): For mortals not to understand divine justice is evidence (the probable meaning of argomento here, though there is debate on the point) that it exists. [return to English / Italian]
70–72. Because the nature of this question concerning vows is not so lofty that a closer-to-divine intelligence is required for its solution, Beatrice will be able to explain it fully to mortal Dante. [return to English / Italian]
73–81. Beatrice is brutally clear: Since the will by its very nature always seeks the good, any capitulation to external force is a violation of God’s love. A modern reader may sense a certain outrage at this line of thought. It would seem to call for martyrdom as the only adequate response if another would divert us from our true path by use of force or the threat of force. As the following examples will make plain (vv. 82–87), that is exactly what is called for. If we fail to keep our absolute will intact (the term is employed at verse 109; see the note to that passage, vv. 109–114), allowing it to be swayed by fear, we are guilty of the sin that afflicted both Piccarda and Constance, who should have found some way to return to the cloister, no matter what harm they thought they might have faced in so doing. Dante’s doctrine is as simple and as terrifying as that. For discussion of these questions, see Singleton’s commentary to vv. 73–74; 76–78. [return to English / Italian]
77–78. The image of the flame that, temporarily twisted by external force from its natural upright position, will always by its very nature raise itself back up underlines the natural propensity of the will to the good, despite the force that may be used against it. [return to English / Italian]
82–87. As he did so often in Purgatorio, Dante combines a Christian and a pagan exemplary figure to make his point: “St. Lawrence, a deacon of the Church of Rome, said to have been a native of Huesca in Spain who suffered martyrdom under the Emperor Valerian, Aug. 10, 258. The tradition is that, being commanded by the prefect of Rome to deliver up the treasures of the Church which had been entrusted to his charge by Pope Sixtus II, he replied that in three days he would produce them. On the expiration of the appointed time he presented to the prefect all the sick and poor to whom he had given alms, with the words ‘Behold the treasures of Christ’s Church.’ The prefect thereupon directed St. Lawrence to be tortured, in order to make him reveal where the treasures were hidden. But, torture proving ineffectual, he was stretched on an iron frame with bars, like a gridiron, beneath which a fire was kindled so that his body was gradually consumed. In the midst of his agony he is said to have remained steadfast, and to have mocked his executioners, bidding them to turn his body that it might be equally roasted on both sides (cf. Prudentius, Peristephanon liber 401–9)” (T). “Gaius Mucius Scaevola, Roman citizen who, when Lars Porsena of Clusium was besieging Rome, made his way into the enemy’s camp with the intention of killing Porsena; by mistake, however, he stabbed the king’s secretary instead of the king himself. Being seized, Mucius was ordered by the king to be burned alive, whereupon he thrust his right hand into a fire, which was already lighted for a sacrifice, and held it in the flames without flinching. Porsena, struck with admiration at his fortitude, ordered him to be set free; in return Mucius informed him that there were 300 noble youths in Rome who had sworn to take the king’s life, that the lot had fallen upon him to make the first attempt, and that his example would be followed by the others, each as his turn came. Porsena, impressed with this account of the determination of the Romans, made proposals of peace and withdrew from the siege. From the circumstance of the loss of his right hand, Mucius was thenceforward known as Scaevola (‘left-handed’). Dante [also] mentions Mucius in connexion with this incident [in] Conv. IV.v.13; and, with a reference to Livy (Ab urbe II.12) as his authority in Mon. II.v.14” (T). Will so firm as that, however, is rarely found. Nonetheless, willingness to accept even martyrdom remains the only eventual solution for this problem. And the example of Scaevola makes the message even more painful: One must be prepared to do violence even against oneself in the service of liberty. [return to English / Italian]
89–90. For Beatrice’s paraphrase of Dante’s unthinking analysis of the problem addressed here, see vv. 19–21. It has now been “canceled” and should trouble him no more. [return to English / Italian]
91–99. Beatrice now offers a sort of corollary to the message she has just delivered, anticipating Dante’s further question: How can Piccarda be telling the truth when she says that neither she nor Constance ever ceased wanting to be back in their convents (Par. III.112–117), if what Beatrice has just said is true? [return to English / Italian]
94–96. This passage makes crystal clear what has surely been evident earlier (most recently at Par. III.31–33, but as early as the second canto of Inferno, when we see Beatrice through Virgil’s eyes, in his description of her and her “vere parole” [Inf. II.135]): The souls of those in bliss never tell less than the absolute truth. [return to English / Italian]
100–108. Starting with a general remark, Beatrice attempts to clarify her position. Humans frequently do things they know they should not do, both against their own will and to escape from harm. The example she adduces, that of Alcmaeon, does not, however, seem to fulfill the second part of her precision. Further, Dante seems to have muddled his version of the story of Alcmaeon, nearly certainly derived from Statius (Thebaid II.265–305). (And see also Ovid, Metamorphoses IX.406–415.) In Statius, Alcmaeon is the son of Amphiaraus and Eriphyle; he avenged his father’s death by killing his mother, who, bought off by the gift of a necklace, revealed Amphiaraus’s hiding place to those who wanted to take him into battle with them and, because of her intervention, succeeded in doing so (see Purg. XII.49–51 [and note]).
Beatrice’s description, in any case, does fit Piccarda’s tale perfectly. She did something she did not want to do (leaving her convent) and did not return from fear of what might be done to her if she tried to—at least that is what Dante would seem to want us to believe. [return to English / Italian]
109–114. Beatrice’s distinction is between the absolute will (the Latin term, absoluta voluntas, reflects its root in the verb absolvere, to release from obligation) and another will, unnamed, that theologians refer to as the “conditioned” (or “conditional”) will, that is, a will conditioned by circumstance. “Assoluta here means ‘absolute’ as contrasted with ‘relative.’ Independently of the circumstances (i.e., of the pressure of fear) the will does not consent to the wrong forced upon it; but when affected by fear of worse suffering in case of withdrawing itself from the pressure of that force, so far it does consent. So Piccarda, when she speaks of Constance’s life, does not take into account her yielding to fear, while Beatrice does take it into account, and therefore r
egards her as defective in the observance of her vows. Thus both their statements are true” (Tozer to vv. 109–114). For example, one wants desperately to stop smoking but, like Svevo’s Zeno, continually yields to the abysmal need to smoke one last cigarette. Piccarda’s absolute will was always to desire the life of her convent; her conditioned will was to accept the marriage into which she was forced. And thus there is no contradiction between what she says of herself and what Beatrice describes as a blameworthy failure in her vows. They are speaking of two differing aspects of willing. [return to English / Italian]
115–116. In a poem controlled by large metaphoric constructs (e.g., light, road, forest, mountain, sea, ship, wings, city, tree, plant, beast, etc.), the third cantica nonetheless stands out for its metaphoric exertions. The last developed metaphor in a canto that began by studying the justification for metaphor, this passage (and many another after it) shows Dante’s determination to up the “poetic ante” for his reader, asked to follow a difficult mind, setting about its work giving expression to theological/philosophical concepts in emotionally charged lyric language. On the subject of metaphor in Dante (far less visited than the related topic of simile), see at least Raimondi (Raim.1986.1) and Pasquini (Pasq.1996.2 and Pasq.2001.1, pp. 179–217).
This particular metaphor has furnished the opening of Purgatorio XXI with its biblical material, the water of life that Jesus offers the Samaritan woman. And here it is Beatrice who is equated with Jesus, bringing the source of that water to humankind. [return to English / Italian]
118–138. Dante’s lengthy and flowery expression of his gratitude to Beatrice for her explanation and of his humility before God’s mysteries serves as captatio benevolentiae in disposing Beatrice to answer still one more question—not that she requires any such suasion. Once again, the needs of the poem come first. [return to English / Italian]
122. Dante addresses Beatrice with the respectful voi, as he will also do at verse 134; but see the note to vv. 136–138. [return to English / Italian]
130–132. Tozer (comm. to this tercet) explains this difficult text as follows: “ ‘Owing to this desire of knowing the Divine Verity, doubt arises at the foot of truth as saplings rise from the foot of a tree.’ Appiè del vero: This is another way of saying that it springs from the root of truth, that idea being suggested by the metaphor: the doubt is a germ of truth. è natura, &c.: ‘it is a natural process, which impels us from height to height unto the summit.’ By the questions which arise from learning a truth, we are led on to the apprehension of a higher truth, and so onwards till the highest is reached.” [return to English / Italian]
136–138. Dante’s third question will be the subject of the first eighty-four verses of the following canto. Thus all of the present canto and over half of the next is devoted to three questions concerning the freedom of the will, the most important issue confronting a moralizing Christian writer. It is probably not accidental that Dante chose to put this discussion here, in the first sphere, that of the Moon, reflecting the fact that the first three realms of the heavens present saved souls whose virtues were unmistakably marred by significant defect (see the note to Par. III.47–49). Most of Paradiso is concerned with the correction and perfection of Dante’s intellect. Its beginning offers a chance to reengage with the world of moral choice, so inviting to a writer who never gave up his engagement with the affairs of humankind in this life. [return to English / Italian]
139–142. This passage offers a variant on the theme of blindness already present in this canto in the reference to Tobias in verse 48 (and see the note to that verse) and reworked in Canto XXVI.12, with its reference to Ananias’s restoration of Saul’s sight. There Beatrice’s increasingly evident power completely (if only temporarily) destroys his power of sight; here Dante is weakened by Beatrice’s overpowering glance, his eyes so overcome that they, in a trope developed from military behavior, are temporarily routed by the Beatricean ocular “army.” Most unmilitary, Dante nearly faints, as he did, for very different reasons, at the conclusions of Inferno III and V.
A possible reason for the poet’s desire to underline the protagonist’s guilty feelings about Beatrice comes from the context we have just now entered, his first enunciation (at vv. 136–138) of his question (see Beatrice’s rephrasing of it in the following canto, Par. V.13–15) about the possibility of redemption for broken vows. We do know that Dante had made at least one vow that he had spectacularly failed to fulfill. In Vita nuova XLII.2 he had made a solemn promise: “Sì che, se piacere sarà di colui a cui tutte le cose vivono, che la mia vita duri per alquanti anni, io spero di dicer di lei quello che mai non fue detto d’alcuna” (Accordingly, if it be the pleasure of Him through whom all things live that my life continue for a few more years, I hope to write of her that which has never been written of any other woman [tr. M. Musa]).
And so, while Bosco/Reggio (comm. to verse 138) are probably correct that Dante’s question is meant to be understood as being addressed formally to all in bliss with Piccarda (and see Tommaseo comm. to vv. 136–138, citing verse 67, where Beatrice mentions “la nostra giustizia” [our justice] in much the same context), the earlier addresses to Beatrice (vv. 122, 134) stay in our ears and cause a certain ambiguity. Is Dante still addressing his guida, or is he pondering the opinion of the saints? This is perhaps a case of Dante trying to hide behind the mask of a more general appeal: “Do you all up here know if mortals are allowed to make broken vows good by substituting other things for them?” That is preferable to asking Beatrice if God can ever forgive his not making good the vow he made to honor her at the end of the Vita nuova, only to write Convivio instead, a work in which she is abandoned for the Lady Philosophy. Dante, hidden behind that impersonal formulation (delivered by that noun used as a pronoun, l’uom [one]), wonders whether or not he might still make amends for his broken promise with this poem in Beatrice’s honor. Such a decision is not in the lap of these “gods,” in fact, but belongs to the Father. He has obviously decided in favor of the claimant, otherwise the voyage would not have been granted him. [return to English / Italian]
PARADISO V
* * *
1–12. Beatrice explains that she has flamed more brightly into Dante’s eyes, temporarily blinding him at the end of the last canto (vv. 141–142), because she enjoys perfect vision in God. Further, she sees (vv. 7–9) that the process that leads to such sight has now begun in Dante as well. In him it is at its earliest stage, since he interprets what he knows of God in human terms, as is reflected in his recently expressed desire (Par. IV.136–138) to know the “economics” of divine forgiveness. [return to English / Italian]
1–6. For a presentation of the status questionis of a problem that has bothered many readers of these verses, see Giuseppe Ledda (Ledd.2002.1), pp. 263–64. Whose sight (veder, verse 5) is perfect (perfetto), Beatrice’s or Dante’s? Plausible cases can be (and have been) made for each alternative. As is evident from our translation, we are inclined to side with those who think that the improved sight is Beatrice’s, as her apprehension of the divine Essence draws her farther into God’s sight, thus also causing her to shine with greater effulgence. But see the early gloss of Francesco da Buti to vv. 1–18; in our own time Leonella Coglievina (Cogl.1990.1), p. 50; Marina De Fazio (Defa.1995.1), p. 85; Anna Maria Chiavacci Leonardi (Chia.1997.1), comm. to vv. 4–6, all have worked on this passage; all of them believe that the more perfect vision mentioned by Beatrice belongs to Dante. Their case is made more difficult by the fact that currently the protagonist is having a very hard time seeing anything at all. And while majority vote is probably not a valid procedure for disentangling knotted skeins of Dante’s text, we are in accord with the wider opinion, given summarizing voice by Alessandro Niccoli, “perfetto,” ED IV [1973]. The most imposing criticism of Beatrice’s candidacy is based on verse 6: How can her will be described as being in motion toward God? Is she not already there? And the answer to that is found in the several expressions of eagerness on her part to
get her peripatetic instruction of Dante completed so that she can get back “home,” first as she enters the poem (Inf. II.71); then in the earthly paradise when she makes clear that the temporary nature of a stay even in that most agreeable place is preferable to a permanent one (Purg. XXXII.100–102; XXXIII.10–12); finally, when she asks Dante to look back down the “ladder” he has climbed up through the heavens in order to reach the “ultima salute” (Par. XXII.124–132). [return to English / Italian]
1–2. The “heat of love” with which Beatrice is aflame may remind the reader of the kind of affection found in a previous fifth canto, that presenting Francesca in Inferno; it is, however, better understood, as it was by John of Serravalle (comm. to vv. 1–6), specifically as the love breathed into Beatrice by the Holy Spirit. [return to English / Italian]
1. This first occurrence of a character’s speaking the opening verse of a canto in Paradiso may make a reader wonder how unusual it is to find the first verse(s) of a canto spoken by a person other than the narrator. In fact, this is not that unusual a phenomenon, occurring thirteen times in all. For a study of the nature of Dante’s exordia, see Blasucci (Blas.2000.1). [return to English / Italian]