by Dante
For a review of the history of the issue (and eventual agreement with Barbi’s analysis), see Pecoraro (Peco.1968.1), pp. 771–77. For strong support of Barbi’s views on the single identity of the two Peters, see Muresu (Mure.1996.2), p. 35n. That Benvenuto da Imola (comm. to vv. 121–123), who knew that part of Italy well, spoke so forcefully about the “deception” of those who believe that Dante is talking about two Peters probably should have concluded the debate long ago. [return to English / Italian]
125. Like Shakespeare’s “hats and clocks” in Julius Caesar (II.i), Peter’s “cappello,” the red hat worn by cardinals, is a gratuitous anachronism on Dante’s part. As Torraca was the first commentator to point out (comm. to vv. 124–126, citing an article in BSDI 6 [1899]), it was only during the papacy (1243–54) of Innocent IV that this clerical accoutrement began to be worn by the princes of the Church. [return to English / Italian]
127–135. Peter concludes his words to Dante with a denunciation of corrupt clergy, culminating in one of the more memorable anticlerical images in the poem, the pastor on horseback as beast with attendants, his poor horse sagging under the weight of his flesh.
Dante may have known Peter’s own imprecations against the corruptions of the clergy in his Liber Gomorrhianus (as was often suggested in the last century, first by Torraca [comm. to vv. 121–123]). As a number of commentators suggest, Peter was a man after Dante’s heart, not only for his surprising openness to “imperial” politics, but especially for his scurrilous tongue for the malfeasance of the clergy, for which he apologizes but apparently delights in allowing free rein. That Dante was recognized as anticlerical by the clergy is not a matter to doubt. There is the obvious case of the Monarchia (which spent some three centuries and one-third [from the first index of prohibited books until 1881] as unfit for Catholic eyes). However, and as Comollo (Como.1990.1), pp. 49–50, points out, there were any number of rough spots, for a cleric respectful of his pope, in the poem (particularly Inf. XI.6–9; XIX.106–117; Purg. XIX.106–116; and Par. IX.136–142). [return to English / Italian]
127–128. Cephas (stone [pietra]) is the [Aramaic] name that Christ gave to Simon (see John 1:42), thereafter known as Simon Peter (Pietro, in Italian, keeps the pun alive better than does the English “Peter”). The “exalted vessel of the Holy Ghost” is Paul (see Inf. II.28). [return to English / Italian]
129. Scartazzini (comm. to this verse) points to biblical sources for this fraternal abnegation: I Corinthians 10:27 (“eat whatever is set before you”) and Luke 10:7 (Christ advising his disciples not to go from house to house in search of food, but to stay wherever they chance to be). [return to English / Italian]
136–142. Peter’s collegial souls, as they descend the ladder to greet him, glow with righteous indignation at these words. Surrounding him, having ceased their circular movement, they let loose a cry so loud and angry that Dante cannot make out the words of what they shout. Where earlier in the canto he had been denied both Beatrice’s smile and the singing of the blessed, now he is allowed to hear a superfluity of sound with a similar net result. (The canto moves from monastic silence to monkish outrage, both leaving the protagonist stunned, uncomprehending.) It is a final reminder of his human incapacity even now, when he has attained the height of Saturn in the heavens.
For this “thunder” as resonating with that found in Ovid’s description of Jupiter, preparing to descend to seduce Semele by taking his thunder and his lightning bolts along (Metam. III.300), see Brownlee (Brow.1991.2), pp. 226–27. [return to English / Italian]
PARADISO XXII
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1–6. This simile is perhaps better described as two simple comparisons combined into a single trope. (Francesco da Buti [comm. to vv. 1–21] did, however, describe it as a “similitudine.”) It first compares Dante to a distressed child running to its mother and then portrays Beatrice as a mother calming her child. Poletto (comm. to vv. 1–3) was apparently the first to indicate the nearly certain reference to Purgatorio XXX.43–45 (Dante as child [fantolin] running to his mommy [mamma]), but the Anonimo Fiorentino (comm. to vv. 1–3) pretty clearly had been thinking of that same text.
These verses continue the action of the preceding canto, which ended with Dante being unable to make out the meaning of a thunder-like utterance (one of the loudest noises we hear from the pages of the poem, perhaps bringing to mind the similarly stunning noise of the infernal waterfall at Inferno XVI.94–105). This shout emanated from Peter Damian’s outraged colleagues, departing from the silent meditation that marked their presence once they descended to this sphere (see Par. XXI.58). Naturally enough, the protagonist, unable to make out their words, fears lest their rebuke, so loud as to be incomprehensible, be aimed at him. His apparent logic is clear enough: In this realm, if Beatrice does not smile and if the souls do not sing, he must be being rebuked for something he has (or has not) done. [return to English / Italian]
1. Tommaseo (comm. to vv. 1–3) was perhaps the first to identify the citation here of Boethius (Cons. Phil. 1.2[pr]): Philosophy appearing to the befuddled “hero” at the beginning of that work (the two passages share versions of the phrase stupor oppressit). Thus the text of the Consolatio stands behind Dantean expressions at either end of the canto. See the note to verse 151 (but also see the note to Par. XXI.28–30). Baranski (Bara.2002.1), p. 357, makes the telling point that Boethius presents the Lady Philosophy’s gown as bearing a ladder that moves from lower practical matters to higher and theological concerns, an emblem resembling the ladder we see here in Saturn, which configures both ascent and descent, the life of meditation and of work in the world, the monastic practices of meditation and labor. (Benedict’s “motto,” as is reported by Fallani [comm. to verse 40], was “ora et labora” [pray and work].) [return to English / Italian]
4–6. Beatrice’s increasing feminization (for her “male” attributes, see Purg. XXX.19, 43–48, 58, and the notes thereto) is, clearly, not the sign of her sexualization, as some contrive to believe. Never in the poem does she appear as other than chaste, here, in simile, as Dante’s mother. [return to English / Italian]
7–9. Beatrice corrects his misapprehension, explaining that anger in the heavens cannot be produced by anything but righteous indignation (buon zelo). Thus the shout he heard could not have been directed against him, but rather against those on earth who offend in their desecration of the religious life, “li moderni pastori” (modern shepherds [Par. XXI.131]). Once again we are made to see how poorly prepared this mortal is for this higher realm. [return to English / Italian]
10–15. Beatrice explains that Dante’s inability to comprehend the “prayers” of the visitors to Saturn, prophesying God’s vengeance on His enemies, is in itself proof that he was not ready to bear either Beatrice’s beatific smile or the contemplatives’ singing, both of which were, for that reason, withheld from him. [return to English / Italian]
10–12. Carroll (comm. to vv. 1–18) restates a passage in St. Bernard’s De Consideratione (V.xiv) that may throw considerable light on this tercet: There are four kinds of divine judgments, each one defined by its breadth, or length, or depth, or height. Consideration of God’s judgments coincides with “depth.” Carroll continues: “This kind of contemplation [citing Bernard] ‘may violently shock the beholder with the fearful vision, but it puts vice to flight, firmly bases virtue, initiates in wisdom, preserves humility.’ ” It is plainly the shock of this contemplation of the ‘depth’ which here stuns the Pilgrim. The cry is an echo from the Thrones of the Divine judgments who preside over this Heaven, and the very echo shakes Dante to the soul; and Beatrice asks how, if the ‘depth’ so shook him, he could have borne the ‘height’—the lofty ecstatic joy of contemplation represented by her smile.” [return to English / Italian]
13–15. This sort of righteous indignation is itself a sort of joy, since it involves, as Beatrice says, the celebration of just punishment, visible in the vengeance of God, that Dante will be able to observe on earth before he
dies. This “minor prophecy” (for another see Purg. XXIII.97–102) about the punishment of the corrupt clergy resembles the similar promise (Par. XVII.98–99), made by Cacciaguida, that Dante will witness the just punishment of his Florentine enemies. The death of any of Dante’s major adversaries, occurring while he was still alive, would indeed seem to make elements of these “prophecies” correct. On the religious side of the roster, major deaths that succored Dante’s hopes included those of the popes Boniface VIII (1303) and Clement V (1314); in the secular ledger, that of Corso Donati (1308 [see Purg. XXIV.82–90]). [return to English / Italian]
16–18. For Dante’s enemies, obviously, this sword will make itself felt all too soon, while for him it will be slow indeed in coming.
This feeling had already raced through Dante’s veins. Mattalia (comm. to verse 16) indicates the second of Dante’s “political epistles” (Ep. VI.4, written in March of 1311), addressed to Henry VII, for the sword of God and vendetta. The text speaks of the “gladius Eius qui dicit: ‘Mea est ultio’ ” (the sword of Him who says, “Vengeance is mine”). [return to English / Italian]
19–21. Beatrice’s urging would lead us to believe that we shall learn of the presence of at least a number of great contemplatives in this sphere. We shall, however, meet only one more, St. Benedict (named only by periphrasis at verses 40–42), although he is accompanied by two other named monastics, Macarius and Romuald (verse 49), who are merely said to be here and must share a single line of verse. The others, of whom we are about to see many dozens, do not receive even that much notice, a perhaps fitting anonymity in this environment of self-abnegation. For whatever reason, Dante has limited his panoply of great contemplatives to Peter Damian and Benedict of Norcia, with an assisting cast of only two named supporting players.
The phrasing of her command to Dante reflects similar urgings on Virgil’s part (Inf. IX.55, X.31; Purg. XXVII.31–32) and one earlier one by Beatrice herself (Par. XVIII.20). The ability to turn and face that which he fears or has not yet understood is what his two guides both encourage in him. [return to English / Italian]
20. For the phrase illustri spiriti (glorious spirits), Tommaseo (comm. to vv. 19–21) adduces a Virgilian text (Aen. VI.758): “inlustris animas.” [return to English / Italian]
23. These “one hundred little globes” are neither precisely one hundred in number nor little globes, but a large number of descended saints who, in their joy (we remember that they are spending eternity in the most joyful place there is) make one another more joyous, as can be perceived by their increasing brightness. [return to English / Italian]
25–30. The protagonist, getting with the spirit of this place, overrules “la punta del disio” (the spur of his desire) and suppresses his desire to know who these spirits are—but of course he has communicated with them in God, despite his reticence. One light, the best and the brightest “pearl” among them, advances to reveal his identity.
For a study of Dante’s adaptation of sexually charged terms to express the desire for God, see Pertile (Pert.1990.1), using verse 26 as his point of departure. And now see his book (Pert.2005.2), which includes this essay and builds upon it. [return to English / Italian]
28–29. We know, as did those who painted and those who “read” medieval paintings, that size is a measure of importance; this is, accordingly, the most important personage of the group (as is also underlined by his greater brightness among the margherite [pearls] who make up his company). Thus it is that Mary will be the greatest among the flames (at least once Christ goes back to the Empyrean) seen in the descended Church Triumphant (Par. XXIII.90).
Benedict will make his identity knowable (he will not actually name himself then or ever) at vv. 40–42. See the note to vv. 37–45. [return to English / Italian]
31–36. Once again a personage of Paradise alludes to the fact that speech is here an unnecessary form of communication (to any understanding but that of mortal Dante). The speaker assures him that, had he only known the inner dispositions of these “globes,” he would have spoken up (even as we remind ourselves that there obviously was no need to, since they know his thoughts even as he suppresses his desire to give voice to them). [return to English / Italian]
31. For the extraordinary number of verbs of seeing in this canto (twenty-one), all but two of them referring to Dante’s sight, see Baranski (Bara.2002.1), p. 344n. [return to English / Italian]
37–45. Benedict (480–543), born in the Umbrian city of Norcia, became the founder of what is considered the oldest monastic order in the West, which bears his name. Son of wealthy parents, he went to Rome to study, and there witnessed the debauchery of the clergy. His response was to take up a solitary eremitic life in a cave. His fame brought him the attention of those who had chosen to live a cloistered life. He agreed to become the head of the convent of Vicovaro, thus moving from the existence of a hermit to that of a cenobite. This was not in all respects a propitious decision on his part, since his fellow monks, resentful of his extremely strict Rule, tried to poison him. He managed to survive the attempt on his life and once again retreated to his cave. Monks loyal to him and to his vision of the cenobitic life eventually followed him to Montecassino, where he destroyed a temple of Apollo and a grove sacred to Venus (according to Oelsner [comm. to vv. 37–39]), converted the locals (until his advent, still pagans), and founded his order. As commentators point out, beginning with Jacopo della Lana (Nota to this canto), Dante’s brief version of Benedict’s vita is indebted to that found in his biographer, St. Gregory the Great, Dialogues, II.2. It may seem surprising that Benedict was canonized only in 1220, nearly seven centuries after his death, while Francis had to wait only two years for his sainthood (1228). [return to English / Italian]
39. The adjectives assigned to the indigenous pagan locals pretty clearly seem to distinguish between, in Tommaseo’s view (comm. to vv. 37–39), their confused mental state and their misdirected affections (in Oelsner’s formulation [see the note to vv. 37–45], worship of Apollo and devotions to Venus). [return to English / Italian]
45. As opposed to verse 39, which seems to point to two unacceptable forms of behavior among the locals, this one would rather indicate the worship of Apollo alone. [return to English / Italian]
46–48. Once again (see the note to verse 1) the text indicates the special nature of the monastic vocation, a combination of prayerful meditation and labor, in Benedict’s own prescription for cenobitic activity, “ora et labora.” [return to English / Italian]
48. Francesco da Buti (comm. to vv. 37–51) resolves the metaphoric fiori (flowers) and frutti (fruits) into “words” and “deeds.” It seems at least possible, given Benedict’s own division of monkish occupation into prayer and work, that this is how we should interpret the “flowers” that Dante has in mind: the words that give shape to prayer. [return to English / Italian]
49. Saints Macarius and Romuald were surely also monks, but, especially with regard to the first, there is little certainty as to his absolute identity. For Macarius, the two main candidates were both dead before Benedict was born. “It is uncertain which of the several saints of the name of Macarius is the one intended by Dante. The two best known, between whom perhaps Dante did not very clearly distinguish, are St. Macarius the Elder, called the Egyptian, and St. Macarius the Younger of Alexandria—both disciples of St. Anthony. St. Macarius the Elder (born in 301) retired at the age of 30 into the Libyan desert, where he remained for sixty years, passing his time between prayer and manual labour, until his death, at the age of 90, in 391. St. Macarius the Younger had nearly 5,000 monks under his charge (d. 404); he is credited with having established the monastic rule of the East, as St. Benedict did that of the West” (T).
As for St. Romuald (956–1027), he began (in 1012) the Camaldolese Order, a reformed group of Benedictines. It was named for the donor of its holding, campus Maldoli (the field of Maldolus), or “Camaldoli.” (Its monastery, in Tuscany, is referred to in Purgatorio V.96.) Thus Bened
ict is bracketed, chronologically, by a precursor and a follower. Dante may have learned about Romuald, born in Ravenna, from the vita Romualdi composed by his townsman, Peter Damian. [return to English / Italian]
50–51. It sounds as though Benedict is readying himself to give a denunciation of the corruption of his order, in the style of Peter Damian (Par. XXI.130–135); however, Dante interrupts him with a surprising question, one that detains him for some time; he will deliver his broadside only at vv. 73–96. [return to English / Italian]
