by Dante
121–129. In the first of these three tercets, as a unique instance among this bevy of illuminati, Dante calls attention to the importance of a particular soul, a signal honor done Boethius, the author of the De consolatione Philosophiae. Dante mentions him, always with this particular text in mind, some dozen times in Convivio (first in I.ii.13). He was active in the first half of the sixth century, holding the consulship at Rome, but earned the displeasure of the emperor, Theodoric, who imprisoned him at Pavia and finally had him put to death by torture. See the note to verse 128.
See Trucchi (comm. to vv. 1–6) for the notion that, where Aquinas (ST Supp., q. 69, a. 2) says that only some will have to spend time in Purgatory before they pass on to Heaven, Dante has all go, with exceptions of those like Boethius, Francis, and Cacciaguida, the auspicious few, according to Isidoro del Lungo (in an unspecified text); that is, Dante’s view is the exact negative counterpart to that of Thomas. See the note to Paradiso XI.109–117. [return to English / Italian]
128. Curti (Curt.2002.1), p. 159, reminds us that Augustine’s remains were circa 725 removed from Sardegna (where they had been taken from Hippo) and taken to Pavia by the Lombard king, Liutprand, who reinterred them in the basilica of Cieldoro. Where might Dante have learned this? In the opinion of Curti, from the Chronicon of the Venerable Bede (present in verse 131). (Casini/Barbi [comm. to this verse] had already pointed out that both Augustine and Boethius were reburied beneath imposing monuments in that church by Liutprand.) [return to English / Italian]
130–131. Isidore (bishop) of Seville compiled one of the first great medieval encyclopedias in the seventh century, his twenty books of Etymologies. He was, either directly or indirectly (e.g., through the derivative work of Uguccione da Pisa), one of Dante’s main authorities on any number of subjects. [return to English / Italian]
131. The Venerable Bede, the ecclesiastical historian of Britain, lived well into the eighth century. See Pasquini (Pasq.2001.1), pp. 283–91, for claims on behalf of the writings of Bede (Historia ecclesiastica gentis Anglorum, De natura rerum, De metrica arte) as hitherto unexplored sources for a number of passages in the Commedia. [return to English / Italian]
131–132. Richard of St. Victor wrote during the twelfth century. He and his master, Hugo of St. Victor (for whom see Par. XII.133), were mystical theologians in the monastery of St. Victor near Paris. “He was said to be a native of Scotland, celebrated Scholastic philosopher and theologian, chief of the mystics of the twelfth century. He was, with Peter Lombard, a pupil of the famous Hugh of St. Victor, and a friend of St. Bernard, to whom several of his works are dedicated; he died at St. Victor in 1173. His writings, which are freely quoted by Thomas Aquinas, consist of commentaries on parts of the Old Testament, St. Paul’s Epistles, and the Apocalypse, as well as of works on moral and dogmatic subjects, and on mystical contemplation, the last of which earned him the title of ‘Magnus Contemplator’ ” (T). Dante in his Epistle to Cangrande (Epist. XIII.28), when justifying his dealing with transcendental subjects in the Paradiso, appeals to Richard’s work De contemplatione. [return to English / Italian]
133–138. Siger of Brabant, thirteenth-century philosopher and theologian who taught at the Faculty of the Arts of the Sorbonne, located near “the Street of Straw,” the Rue du Fouarre in Paris (one of the few pieces of “evidence” seized on by those who believe, as few today do, that Dante visited Paris; but the street’s name was apparently widely known; and Dante might have heard details about the theological disputes in Paris, for instance from the Dominican Remigio Girolami, who had studied with St. Thomas in Paris and who lectured at S. Maria Novella between 1289 and 1303). In 1270, Thomas wrote his De Unitate intellectus contra averroistas, clearly attacking some of Siger’s teaching (along with that of others). Between 1270 and 1277, Siger was prosecuted by the archbishop of Paris Étienne Tempier (and in 1276 by the inquisitor for France, Simon du Val) for heretical ideas and found guilty. He went to Orvieto to face the Roman Curia and apparently owned up to his wayward philosophizing, and perhaps was absolved for it. He then stayed in Orvieto, in a condition perhaps resembling house arrest, where he apparently met his death beneath the knife of a mad cleric, possibly a man assigned to him as a servant, circa 1283–84. The author of Il Fiore (XCII.9–11) mentions Siger’s terrible end. For a compact bibliography of Siger’s extensive body of work, those considered genuine, those possibly or probably by others, and those now lost, as well as a short list of studies of his impact on Dante, see Cesare Vasoli, “Sigieri (Sighieri) di Brabante,” ED V (1976), pp. 241b–42a.
For an invaluable survey of the state of the question regarding the interrelationships among Aristotle, Averroës, Albertus Magnus, and Aquinas, as they affect Dante’s own philosophical views, see the first half of the study by Simon Gilson (Gils.2004.1). For a brief but most helpful summary in English of the strands of Dante’s Aristotelianism, see Scott, “Aristotle” (Lans.2000.1), pp. 61–65. For a discussion of the major “heresies” current in Dante’s time, see Comollo (Como.1990.1). We in the twenty-first century may not have enough feel for the huge change in theology wrought by the rediscovery of Aristotle in the thirteenth century. Dante clearly felt himself drawn to the new philosophy, as is evident by his placing Aristotle higher than Plato as a figure of classical philosophical authority, as is first reflected in the Commedia in Inferno IV.131. [return to English / Italian]
133–135. What the reader is supposed to understand about these thoughts that made death seem welcome to Siger is debated; perhaps it is his concern, mirrored in his retraction in (or perhaps after) 1276 that his earlier erring notions might condemn him to damnation in God’s eyes, despite his finally having chosen the true faith. Vasoli (“Sigieri,” ED V [1976], pp. 238a–42b) is not certain of Siger’s sincerity in hewing to the line. Nonetheless, Dante may have decided that his appearance before the Roman Curia in Orvieto “cured” him of his heretical bent, and that, when he was murdered, he was living in the bosom of Mother Church. [return to English / Italian]
138. See Tulone (Tulo.2000.1) for a review of the problem caused by the phrase invidiosi veri (enviable truths). Tulone’s hypothesis is that Dante’s text refers to the envy of those who hypocritically oppose Siger’s sound doctrinal teaching by claiming it is other than Christian. And see Mazzotta (Mazz.2003.1), p. 155, who is of the opinion that invidiosi means “not logically evident or demonstrable,” on what grounds it is difficult to say. Benvenuto (comm. to vv. 133–138) distinguishes between the words invidiosus and invidus as follows: “invidiosus enim est ille cui invidetur propter suam felicitatem: et sic capitur in bona parte; invidus vero est ille qui invidet alteri; et sic capitur in mala parte” (for the man who is invidiosus is one who is envied because of his happiness, and the word is then understood positively; the man who is invidus, on the other hand, is one who is envious of another, and the word is then understood negatively). Curti (Curt.2002.1), p. 162, while not referring to Benvenuto, may have cited one of the fourteenth-century commentator’s sources: Isidore of Seville (Etym. X.134): One who is invidus envies the happiness of another, while the man who is invidiosus suffers the envy of others. As for the word silogizzò (which we have translated as “demonstrated”), from the beginning there has been dispute as to whether it is to be taken negatively or positively. Jacopo della Lana (comm. to vv. 133–138) argues that these syllogisms are untrue, while Benvenuto da Imola (commenting on the same passage) is of the opposite opinion, namely that the syllogisms of Siger’s making are indeed truthful, and for that reason the subject of envy on the part of those who heard and admired them. Over the years a large majority of the commentators are of Benvenuto’s opinion; and see Veglia (Vegl.2000.1), p. 103 and note, for a concordant reflection. That Siger is saved has undoubtedly contributed to the forming of this view; the words themselves might seem far less generous in a different context. See, for example, the second verse of the next canto. [return to English / Italian]
139–148. According to Scott (Scot.2004.
2), p. 297, this is the first reference in literature to a mechanical clock. He cites Dronke (Dron.1986.1), pp. 101–2, who suggests that Dante might have seen the one built in Milan in 1306 when he was there for the coronation of Henry VII (in 1310). And see Moevs (Moev.1999.2) for the nature and location of clocks in Dante’s time. [return to English / Italian]
144. For turge see Pertile (Pert.2005.2), pp. 173–76, pointing out, with numerous examples, that the word has never before been used, in Latin, with a sexual denotation, a meaning it acquired only later on. Dante, having conflated love and intellect, at least by the opening of this canto, can use the vocabularies interchangeably, or substitute the former for the latter, as he does here. Psychologists refer to another version of this process as sublimation, an attempt to skirt a painful awareness of sexual desire by replacing it with a more “acceptable” activity. In Jesus’ teaching (e.g., the wise virgins preparing for the arrival of the bridegroom [Matthew 25:1–13]) we can see a more positive sense of sexuality, if it is also simultaneously seen as the basis for its own supersession, taking carnal pleasure past its physical expression and its physical limits. For example, “If you enjoy the thought of consummating a marriage, oh, will you enjoy the kingdom of Heaven!” It would seem likely that Dante’s transposition of terms generally associated with sexual desire to descriptions of the longing for God, as innovative as it may seem to be, is in fact a continuation of a highly similar practice in Jesus’ teaching, as is found with some frequency in the Gospels. [return to English / Italian]
PARADISO XI
* * *
1–12. In sharp contrast to both the opening six and concluding nine verses of the preceding canto, with their visionary taste of a trinitarian and ordered love and then the sound made by the singing souls in the Sun (compared to the harmonious chiming of matins calling monks to prayer), the opening nine verses of this canto summon images of ceaseless and futile human activity, from which Dante is happy to have been, at least temporarily, liberated. [return to English / Italian]
1. Dante’s reflection of the opening verse of Persius’s Satires (“O curas hominum, o quantum est in rebus inane” [O wearisome cares of men, o emptiness of the things we care for]) had an early-twentieth-century notice in Bertoldi (Bert. 1903.1), p. 7. However, it was first observed in the late fourteenth century by the author of the Chiose ambrosiane. [return to English / Italian]
2. Depending on whether we have read verse 138 of the previous canto in bono or in malo, that is, whether we have thought Dante meant to praise or blame Siger’s “syllogizing,” we decide that the noun form of that word is here used oppositionally or with the same intonation. See the note to Paradiso X.138 for reasons to prefer the first alternative; where Siger is admirable for his powers of reasoning, the normal run of men is not, using reason merely to advance their cupidinous designs. [return to English / Italian]
3. The metaphor of lowered wings suggests that we mortals, born worms but with the ability to be transformed into angelic butterflies (according to Purg. X.124–125), nevertheless choose to direct our cares to the things of this world, lowering the level of our desires. [return to English / Italian]
4–9. Dante’s list of vain human activities starts out with law (whether civil or canonical); medicine (identified by one of the earliest known doctors, Hippocrates, author of the medical text that bore the title Aphorisms); priesthood (as a position rather than as a calling); political power (whether achieved by force or guile). [return to English / Italian]
5. Bosco/Reggio (comm. to this verse) point out that Dante’s word sacerdozio for “priesthood” has the sense of an ecclesiastical office that yields a good living to its holder, and refer to Dante’s previous attack on those religious (almost all of them, Dante has previously said) who study only in order to gain wealth or honors (see Conv. III.xi.10). [return to English / Italian]
10–12. Punning on the first noun in Paradiso, the glory (la gloria) of God, Dante separates himself from the eight activities he has just catalogued by noting his freedom from such preoccupations as are caused by them and enjoying his presence here in the Sun, welcomed by these souls who live, still higher above, in gloria with God. [return to English / Italian]
13–18. The spirits moving in this first solar circle, having surrounded Beatrice and Dante, become fixed, like candles on their holders, and one of them (Thomas) speaks. [return to English / Italian]
19–21. Dante here gives Thomas one of the relatively few similes allowed to a speaker in the poem. One feels compelled to wonder what, had he been able to read these cantos of Paradiso, he would have thought of his inclusion in them. See the note to Paradiso X.86–96. [return to English / Italian]
22–27. Perhaps we are meant to be amused that Thomas’s eulogy of Francis begins as a gloss on two difficult passages on his own “poem” (see Par. X.96 and X.114), the veiled speech that made the historical Thomas distrust poetry. [return to English / Italian]
28–36. This convoluted and difficult passage may be paraphrased as follows: “God’s foresight, with such deep wisdom that none may fathom it, selected two guides for the Church so that she, married to Him at the moment when Christ cried out in pain on the Cross [Daniello, comm. to vv. 28–34: See Luke 23:46] and shed His blood to wed her [Lombardi, comm. to vv. 31–34: See Acts 20:28], might proceed joyously, and with greater confidence and faith, following Him.” Thus Francis and Dominic, the first of whom was indeed often portrayed as a “second Christ” (see, among others, Auerbach [Auer.1944.2], p. 85), each takes on the role of Christ in husbanding the Church through her many tribulations both in his lifetime and thereafter, by instrument of the mendicant order that he, having founded, left behind him. [return to English / Italian]
34–39. See Cosmo (Cosm.1936.1), pp. 123–25, for the view that Dante nourished his hopes for the Church’s renewal with the writings of Ubertino da Casale, particularly his Arbor vitae crucifixae Iesu. [return to English / Italian]
37–42. The complementarity of the founders of the two orders is insisted on here, not their distinguishing features. Thus before we hear a word about either Francis or Dominic, respectively associated with the Seraphim (the highest angelic order) and love and with the Cherubim (the next order down) and knowledge, we are informed in no uncertain terms that we should not rank one higher than the other. See the note to Paradiso XII.46–57. And see Carroll (comm. to vv. 37–39) for a similar attempt to bridge what he refers to as “mysticism” and “scholasticism.”
It may have been Bernardino Daniello (comm. to vv. 40–42) who first brought historical fact into play in interpreting this part of the canto. It was a matter of record, he reports, that on Francis’s feast day (4 October) one of the friars of his order would preach the virtues of Dominic, while on the feast of Dominic (8 August), a Dominican would do the same for Francis. Daniello suggests that this practice lies behind Dante’s here. As many have ruefully noted, that spirit of fraternity between these two groups of friars did not present an accurate picture of the relations, in fact emulous, between these two mendicant orders in Dante’s time. [return to English / Italian]
37–39. For a likely source in the Arbor vitae crucifixae Iesu of Ubertino da Casale for Dante’s making Francis seraphic and Dominic cherubic, see Mineo (Mine.1992.1), p. 273. [return to English / Italian]
43–117. Here begins Dante’s Vita Francisci. On Dante’s sense of the life of Francis as a model for his once prideful and now exiled self, see Herzmann (Herz.2003.1), p. 323. For a brief essay on the canto as a whole, see Bruno Nardi (Nard.1964.1); for a much longer treatment, see Mineo (Mine. 1992.1). For bibliography, see Stanislao da Campagnola, “Francesco di Assisi, santo,” ED III (1971). For the various lives of Francis known to Dante, see da Campagnola’s article (Daca.1983.1). And for the relationship between the historical Francis and Dante’s portrait of him, see Mellone (Mell.1987.1). For some more recent bibliography, see Barolini (Baro. 1992.1), p. 334, n. 6. [return to English / Italian]
43–51. These th
ree tercets of Thomas might be paraphrased as follows: “Between the Topino and the Chiascio, which flows down from Gubbio, perched on a fertile slope on mount Subasio, whence Perugia, some twelve miles to the west, feels both cold air from the mountains and the heat of the easterly sun, sits Assisi, while further to the east the towns Nocera and Gualdo suffer both from the cold and from being misgoverned by the Guelph Perugians. From here, where the mountain is least steep, arose a sun, just as the Sun we are in rises from Ganges in summer (when it is brightest).” [return to English / Italian]
