Paradiso (The Divine Comedy series Book 3)

by Dante

  On the point of returning to her undivided attention to God, she is already being retransformed into a more-than-human being, pure soul, as it were, without the hindrance of human concerns that she has taken on for Dante’s sake. Thus only God can fully enjoy her beauty. [return to English / Italian]

  22–27. And thus the human poet who is speaking to us, confined by the two modes (and only two generic possibilities are referred to in the entire text, unlike De vulgari eloquentia, which mentions several others), tragic or comic, that are available to him, must acknowledge his necessary failure. The poem of the triumph of Beatrice needs a new genre, one that Dante has defined at Paradiso XXV.73, and that shares with David’s psalms, expressing his love for God, the generic tag of tëodia (god song).

  For this last, see Barolini (Baro.1984.1), p. 277. Only a new form might seem capable of describing such things.

  See Shaw (Shaw.1981.1), p. 196: “There is a chain of inadequacy in Dante because of the visionary nature of the experience he is describing. The mind cannot fully grasp what it experiences, because this transcends the human capacity for understanding; the memory cannot now recall even that which the mind did grasp at the time; and finally, the poet’s words cannot do justice even to what he can recall to mind. The poet’s words are three stages removed from what he is attempting to represent.”

  For discussion of reference here to Virgil and Dante as, respectively, writers of tragedy and of comedy, see Scartazzini (comm. to verse 24) and Hollander (Holl.1993.5), p. 10, n. 23. [return to English / Italian]

  25–27. Like a mortal with weak eyes, unable even more than most to look directly at the Sun, the poet finds his inner sight blinded by the memory of this last and transformed beauty evident in Beatrice. Scartazzini (comm. to vv. 25–27) was apparently the first commentator (but not the last, though none of the others cites him) to call attention to three passages in the minor works that offer similar images, Vita nuova (XLI.6) and Convivio (III.0.59–60; III.viii.14 [this last the commentary on those verses]). It is amusing to discover that in the first case, it is Beatrice’s soul, ascended to Heaven, that is too bright for Dante to behold, while in the two passages in Convivio the blinding is accomplished by the glow of Lady Philosophy. The first is entirely germane to the present context, which has Beatrice about to ascend to exactly where Dante first saw her seated in Heaven in the libello. Dante would have preferred, however, that we forget the second, in praise of the lady who replaced Beatrice in his affections. [return to English / Italian]

  27. Porena (comm. to vv. 26–27) is perhaps the first to discuss the two possible meanings of mente, “mind” (here with the sense of “intellect”) and “memory,” making a good case for the former, as we have translated the word. See also Maierù, “mente,” ED (III [1971]), pp. 899a–905a, who agrees (p. 902b). However, if it is his mind that Dante is separated from, in what specific ways ought we consider the possible meaning(s) of the verse? This is a difficult line to translate. [return to English / Italian]

  28–29. If we accept the “history” put forward in Vita nuova, the first time that he saw Beatrice was shortly before Dante’s ninth birthday (VN II.1–2), thus no later than June of 1274, and probably a little before then. The current date in the poem is perhaps 31 March 1300 (see the note to Inf. I.1). [return to English / Italian]

  28. The word viso may here be rendered with either “eyes” or “face.” We have chosen the latter, even though most of the commentators who actually choose one alternative over the other, beginning with Benvenuto (comm. to vv. 28–30), prefer “eyes.” [return to English / Italian]

  30. “This verse is more problematic than it generally seems to be to most commentators: [H]ow can Dante say this when he has displayed such a marked deviation from singing of Beatrice in Convivio? Are we to understand that that work, even if it records her being eclipsed in Dante’s affection by the donna gentile, nonetheless is about her? Or are we to imagine that, since Dante has been through the rivers Lethe and Eunoe, he forgets his past wrongdoing and remembers only the good in the history of his affections?” (Hollander [Holl.1993.5], p. 11, n. 26). [return to English / Italian]

  31–36. “The poet is able to represent aspects of divinity but cannot know it directly. Beatrice, at one with God, resists any human poet’s capacity, even Dante’s. And thus Dante must leave her to a maggior bando, the angelic trumpets’ heralding at the [G]eneral Resurrection.… [Beatrice] is better than all mortals because she is immortal, a condition [that] she shares utterly with her fellow saints. In a sense, Dante’s inability to sing of her results not from her being unique, but from her being absolutely the same as all the blessed in her love of God” (Hollander [Holl.1993.5], pp. 11–12). Naturally, that is true of any other saved soul as well. [return to English / Italian]

  33. See Binni (Binn.1968.1), p. 1070, for a paraphrase of this verse: “il limite estremo delle sue forze espressive” ([at] the outer limit of his powers of expression). [return to English / Italian]

  34. Rossi (Ross.1981.1 and Ross.1985.1), p. 65 and p. 89, respectively, points out that the word bando here looks back at Purgatorio XXX.13 in such a way as to make its meaning clear. All the early commentators who make an effort to identify the source of that trumpeting say that it will be a later poet (Benvenuto [comm. to vv. 34–39] specifies “a poet-theologian,” in which judgment he is followed by John of Serravalle [comm. to vv. 34–42]); some, their discomfort more or less apparent, go along, perhaps because they do not understand to what else the sonorous reference might refer. That was the muddled condition of appreciation of this passage until Scartazzini (comm. to this verse) cut through centuries of weak responses and magisterially solved (or should have) the riddle once and for all (the text refers to the trump of Judgment Day), even if his reward for doing so was to be ridiculed by Poletto (comm. to vv. 34–37) and to be ignored even by those relative few who agree with him. Mestica (comm. to vv. 34–38), without reference to Scartazzini (do we hear the strains of a familiar tune? [see the note to Purg. XXX.115–117]), also settles on this daring but sensible explanation, as does Del Lungo (comm. to vv. 34–38). Still more blameworthy than Poletto, Vandelli, revising his master’s work, simply substitutes his own version of the ancient view for Scartazzini’s radical new interpretation (comm. to vv. 34–36), attributing the trumpet blast to a “voce poetica più possente della mia” (poetic voice more powerful than mine). In more recent times, Scartazzini’s position has found support in Rossi (Ross.1981.1), pp. 65, 72; Hollander (Holl.1993.5), pp. 10–13 [with a review of the status of the debate]; Chiavacci Leonardi (Chia.1997.1), p. 830; and Ledda (Ledd.2002.1), p. 301. However, see Shaw (Shaw.1981.1), p. 197, for a return to the old solution, the bando will issue from “a greater poetic talent than his own.”

  For a similar problem, what Dante refers to by the phrase “con miglior voci” (with better words) at Paradiso I.35, and the utter unlikelihood that he might be thinking of future poets better than he, see the note to I.35–36. [return to English / Italian]

  38–42. On these verses see Bortolo Martinelli (Mart.1985.1), pp. 113–14, arguing that the Empyrean is to be considered as having corporeal being. Dante (in Conv. II.iii.8) has been interpreted as saying that this was indeed the case. (Although there are those who do not hold to this opinion, finding that Dante attributes this opinion to “Catholics” without necessarily embracing it himself, this would not mark the first time that Dante changed his mind about an opinion expressed in the Convivio). Here, however, it seems totally clear that Dante is reiterating his thoughts about the triform Creation (see Par. XXIX.22–24), which included pure form unalloyed with matter (i.e., the Empyrean and the angels). As Aversano (Aver.2000.2), p. 151, points out, if the Primum Mobile is the largest material sphere in the heavens, that requires that the Empyrean not be material, for it contains (i.e., is larger than) all else.

  It is quite striking, as Aversano points out, that after Inferno II.21 Dante never uses the word empireo again. It had, in fact, appeared mor
e often in the Convivio (twice: II.iii.8 and II.xiv.19). [return to English / Italian]

  39–42. These four verses, weaving their three line-beginning/ending nouns luce, amore, letizia into a knot expressing the nature of God’s kingdom (intellectual light and love, the latter yielding joy) in a pattern of linkage new to the poem, are perhaps calculated to offer a first sense of the higher spiritual reality of the Empyrean. [return to English / Italian]

  43. The two “militias” found here are, of course, the angels and the saved souls. Scartazzini (comm. to vv. 43–45) says the first fought against the rebel angels, the second, against the vices. [return to English / Italian]

  44–45. The poet, in his enthusiasm for incarnation, restrains himself only enough not to insist that the angels are seen as though they, too, are embodied. There is no preexisting tradition that allows this daring invention (seeing the blessed as though they were already incarnate) on Dante’s part. And yet, once we read his instruction, we accept their phantom flesh as a necessary element of his vision.

  This is all the more striking as we have just been assured that we left “corporality” behind when we left the Primum Mobile (vv. 38–39). See discussion in Scott (Scot.1977.2), pp. 164 and 179, and Hollander (Holl.1993.5), p. 14: “[T]his resubstantiation occurs exactly at the moment at which we have apparently left corporality behind us.… ‘From nature and history to spirituality and eternity’ is one way to translate [Beatrice’s] phrase.” [return to English / Italian]

  46–51. Again Dante is blinded by the light, one last time before he begins seeing the higher reality of God’s Heaven as it really is. The simile makes use of a fitting biblical precursor, St. Paul (see the note to verse 49).

  For the blending of scientific and biblical elements in this simile, see Gilson (Gils.2001.2), p. 56. [return to English / Italian]

  49. Tommaseo (comm. to vv. 49–51) was apparently the first commentator to hear the echo of the passage in the Book of Acts (22:6) that features the fairly rare verb circumfulgere. Scartazzini (comm. to this verse) also did so. Their view was shared by Poletto (comm. to vv. 46–51) and at least nine commentators in the following century, from Torraca to Bosco/Reggio. Disagreeing with such as these, who think that Dante’s Latinizing verb form circunfulse (shone all around) reflects the circumfulgere of Acts 22:6 (or either of two other passages in that book), Dronke (Dron.1989.1), p. 37–38, insists on the greater relevance of Luke 2:9, the only other biblical passage that contains this verb, describing the shepherds keeping watch on the night of the Nativity: “And the glory of the Lord shone around them” (et claritas Dei circumfulsit eos). Dronke objects to claims for a linkage here between Dante and Saul, “the fanatical persecutor whom the circumfulgent light blinds for three days, stunning him into a change of heart.” However, what works against Dronke’s hypothesis is the very context that he tries to turn against those who take the reference as being to Saul/Paul, since he fails to take into account the noticeable fact that Dante, like Paul (and unlike the shepherds), is blinded by the light. For Dante’s Pauline identity here, see Foster (Fost.1977.1), pp. 70–73; Di Scipio (Disc.1980.1); and Shaw (Shaw.1981.1), p. 201: “There can be no doubt that Dante expects us at this point to think of Saul on the road to Damascus.” And see Hollander (Holl.1993.5), pp. 14–15 (n. 34). Kleinhenz (Klei.1995.1), pp. 458–59, is also of this opinion; on p. 468, n. 5, he refers to Dronke’s hypothesis with dubiety, as does Bellomo (Bell.1996.1), p. 45, n. 19. [return to English / Italian]

  52–54. Beatrice explains that the blinding brightness of the Empyrean welcomes all newcomers just as Dante is welcomed now (and will be again, we realize), prepared to see God face-to-face and to flame with love for Him. [return to English / Italian]

  53. The word salute (greetings), ever since its teasing presence in the Vita nuova as meaning either “greeting” or “salvation” or an enigmatic union of the two, appears here, also, with ambivalent meaning. [return to English / Italian]

  55–60. The protagonist is now ready for the final stage of his journey, as is betokened by the fact that he has internalized Beatrice’s words. Not all commentators agree that such is the case, claiming that Dante is uncertain as to the source of the words, even that he may have spoken them himself. But see Benvenuto (comm. to these verses) who, with whatever justification, has no doubt—the words are indeed spoken by Beatrice. It certainly seems a part of the protagonist’s preparation for being rapt in his vision of God that distinctions between objective and subjective reality should 831begin to break down. In Paradiso XXXIII.131 he will see himself in the image of Christ. [return to English / Italian]

  61–69. The last accommodative metaphor in the part of the poem that precedes seeing face-to-face presents what Dante observes with imperfect vision in such a way as to reveal the substance hidden in these “shadowy prefaces” (verse 78).

  For the river of light, and its possible dependence on a passage in the Anticlaudianus of Alanus ab Insulis (Alain de Lille), see Witke (Witk.1959.1). Hollander (Holl.1969.1), pp. 196–202, discusses the complex way in which Dante’s use of metaphor morphs into absolute reality, which had first been available to his still-strengthening mind as only an approximation of itself. [return to English / Italian]

  61. Notice of the dependence of Dante on Apocalypse 22:1 (“Then the angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and of the Lamb”) apparently begins with the author of the commentary in the Codice Cassinese (comm. to this verse). Sapegno (comm. to this verse) cites, as do many others, this biblical text, but adds St. Bonventure’s commentary to it: “Flumen aeternae gloriae est flumen Dei, plenum congregatione sanctorum.… Aeterna gloria dicitur fluvius, propter abundantiam; aquae vivae, propter indeficientiam; splendidus, propter munditiam; tamquam cristallum, propter transparentiam” (The river of eternal glory is the river of God, filled by the congregation of the saints.… Eternal glory is said to be flowing water because of its abundance; the water of life because it has no impurities; shining because of its clarity; like crystal because of its transparency). (The second most cited potential biblical source is Daniel 7:10.)

  Chiavacci Leonardi (Chia.1975.2), p. 16, reminds us that this is not a river of light, but light in the form of a river. (See Jacopo della Lana [comm. to vv. 61–69] for a similar understanding.) [return to English / Italian]

  62–66. Seeing metaphorically, as it were (thus reversing our usual practice, which is to understand the truth of things and then express that in metaphor), the protagonist sees light in the form of a river, its two banks covered with flowers, with sparks flying up and then settling back down on the blossoms. All these elements will be metamorphosed into their realer selves, a round stadium-rose nearly filled with saved souls, with angels (“bees”) moving quickly back and forth between the souls (“flowers”) and God (the “hive”). There is, as well there should be, general agreement about the identities of these three elements, resolved from metaphor. The identity of the light in the form of a river is frequently passed over in silence. However, Benvenuto (comm. to vv. 61–63) was apparently the first to associate it with grace. [return to English / Italian]

  62. Exactly what adjective Dante set down (and what it means) has been a matter of some dispute, with four possible choices (fulvido, fulgido, fluvido, fluido) doing battle over the centuries. See Scartazzini, who rejects the last two, and supports most of the first commentators in choosing the first (or the second, which has, according to him, the same meaning). It means, he says, “resplendent.” Others, for instance Torraca (comm. to vv. 61–63), say that Dante’s word derives from Latin fulvus (reddish yellow). [return to English / Italian]

  64–66. For Virgil’s Elysian Fields as the model for this passage, see Gmelin (Gmel.1957.1), p. 52 (his note to Paradiso XXXI.7). For the view that this passage may, in its own right, be a veiled first presentation of that text, see Hollander (Holl.1976.2), p. 240 (repr. Holl.1980.1, p. 38). In the Aeneid (VI.703–709), the protagonist is looking at the
souls of the blessed, those happy inhabitants of the Elysian Fields. (At least they probably seem happy to us when first we see them; but see the note to Par. XXXI.7–12 for Aeneas’s eventual view.) In simile, they are compared to bees nestling in flowers. To Dante, not one to leave a fine poetic moment only as fine as he found it, the “bees” are the angels, while the blessed are the “flowers.” This becomes clearer in the next canto (see the note to Par. XXXI.7–12), as several commentators testify. Yet it is nonetheless true, once we see the allusion, that we can carry it back with us to this passage. And then we may begin to understand that, for all the apparent discarding of Virgil that sets the last cantica apart from the first two, the Latin poet is rewarded by his greatest medieval admirer with a new life in the conclusion of his poem. See Hollander (Holl.1983.1), p. 140; Rossi (Ross.1981.1), pp. 55–58; Rossi (Ross.1989.2), pp. 306–7; and Hollander (Holl.1993.5), pp. 17–19, making the additional point (p. 18) that the reference thus makes this reference, along with that in verse 49 to Saul, reverse the negative version of the protagonist’s typology (Inf. II.32). Where before, at least in the protagonist’s own view, he failed to match up to his two precursors, now he is indeed the new Paul and the new Aeneas: