Moreover this poet possessed marvelous capacity, a most retentive memory, and a keen intellect. Indeed, when he was at Paris, in a disputation de quolibet held there in the schools of theology, wherein fourteen different theses were being maintained by various able men on divers subjects, Dante without a break gathered all the theses together in their sequence, with the arguments pro and con that were advanced by his opponents, and then, following the same order, recited them, subtly solved them, and refuted the counter-arguments — a feat that was reputed all but a miracle by them that stood by. He was possessed also of exalted genius and subtle invention, as his works, to those that understand them, reveal far more clearly than could any words of mine.
He had a consuming love for honor and fame, perchance a greater love than befitted his noble nature. But indeed what life is so humble as not to be touched by the sweetness of glory? It was due to this desire, I suppose, that he loved poetry beyond any other study. For he saw that, while philosophy surpasses all other studies in nobility, yet its excellence can be communicated to but few, and besides there are already many famous philosophers throughout the world; whereas poetry is more obvious and more delightful to every one, and poets are exceeding rare. So he hoped through poetry to obtain the unusual and splendid honor of coronation with the laurel, and therefore dedicated himself to its study and composition.
And surely his desire had been fulfilled, if fortune had been so gracious as to permit him ever to return to Florence, where alone, at the font of San Giovanni, he was minded to be crowned, in order that there, where in baptism he had received his first name, now by coronation he might receive his second. But things so turned out that, albeit his gifts would have enabled him to receive the honor of the laurel wherever he pleased (the which rite does not increase knowledge, but is its ornament and true witness of its acquisition), yet since he ever waited for that return which never was to be, he was unwilling to receive the much-coveted honor anywhere else, and so at length died without achieving it.
But inasmuch as frequent question is made among readers as to what poetry is and what poets are, whence the word is derived and why poets are crowned with the laurel, and since few seem to have explained these matters, it pleases me to make a digression here, in which I may throw some light on the subject, returning as soon as I am able to my theme.
IX. DIGRESSION CONCERNING POETRY
THE EARLIEST PEOPLE in the earliest ages, though they were rude and uncultivated, were eager to know the truth through study, the which desire is still, as we see, natural to every one. Perceiving that the heavens were moved without cessation by a fixed law, and that things on the earth had a certain plan, with diverse actions at different times, they thought there must be something whence all these had proceeded, and which as a higher force, subject to none other, ordered all the rest.
After diligent study of the matter, they imagined that this power — to which they gave the name of divinity, or deity — ought to be venerated by every kind of worship, by every honor, and by more than human service. They therefore built, out of reverence to this supreme power, spacious and surpassing edifices. These they thought should be distinguished in name, since they were different in form, from those which men inhabited, and so they called them temples. Similarly they appointed various ministers, who should be sacred and sequestered from all worldly care, revered above other men for their wisdom, age, and manner of life. These were to occupy themselves solely with divine services, and thus were called priests (sacerdoti). Moreover, in representation of this imagined Divine Essence, they made magnificent statues of various forms, and, for its services, vessels of gold, marble tables, and purple vestments, together with such accessories as might be appropriate for the sacrifices which they established.
In order that to such a power no silent nor all but mute honor should be paid, it seemed meet for them to propitiate it with words of lofty sound, and so render it favorable to their necessities. And since they deemed that this Being exceeded all else in nobleness, they were anxious to find words far above any plebeian or public style of speaking, whereby they might worthily discourse before the Divinity, and offer it sacred adulation. Furthermore, that these words might appear to have the greater efficacy, they desired that they should be arranged according to laws of rhythm, whereby some sweetness might be heard, and all harshness and tediousness be removed. It was clearly fitting, moreover, that this should be done not in a vulgar or habitual form of speech, but in a manner artistic, exquisite, and new. This form the Greeks termed poetic, whence it came about that whatever was cast in such a mold was called poetry, and that they who created it, or employed this manner of speaking, were given the name of poets. This, then, was the origin of the terms poet and poetry; and though others assign different reasons, perhaps good ones, this explanation pleases me best.
This good and laudable desire of the rude age moved many, in a world growing through knowledge, to various fictions, and, while the first people honored only one deity, their successors represented that there were many, though they said that this one held pre-eminence above all the others. These several deities, they held, were the Sun and Moon, Saturn and Jupiter, and each of the other seven planets, their divinity being inferred from their effects. Later they came to hold that everything useful to man (although it were of the earth) was a deity — like fire, water, earth itself, and such things; and to all of these were ordained verses and honors and sacrifices.
Following on this, various men in various places, some by one fiction, some by another, began to make themselves stronger than the ignorant multitude of their districts, deciding their crude disputes, not by written law, which did not exist as yet, but according to a natural equity, whereof one had more knowledge than another. Being naturally more enlightened, they ordered their lives and habits, and resisted by bodily force every opposition as it arose. They began, also, to call themselves kings, to appear before the people with slaves and ornaments, neither of which had been found heretofore among men. They began to make themselves obeyed, and ultimately to make themselves worshiped; which, if only one presumed so far, came about without much difficulty. For to the rude peoples who saw these actions of theirs they seemed not men, but gods.
Not wishing to trust overmuch to their mere strength, these men began to magnify the religions, and to overawe the subjects through their faith therein; and to secure by oaths the obedience of those whom they could not have constrained by force. Furthermore, they took care to deify their fathers, their grandfathers, and their ancestors, in order that they themselves should the more be feared and held in reverence by the multitude. These things could not suitably be done without the service of poets; who, in order to spread abroad their own fame, please their lords, delight the subjects, and persuade every one to act virtuously, made the people believe that which the princes wished they should believe. Under cover of various and masterly fictions — hardly to be understood by the vulgar of to-day, not to mention those of that time — they wrote things that, had they been spoken openly, would have had the opposite effect.
Both for the new gods and for the men who feigned that they were born of gods, these poets employed the same style that the first people used in reference to the true God only, and for his praise. From this the deeds of able men came to be paralleled with those of the gods, and hence arose the chant in lofty verse of the battles and other notable acts of men, mingled with those of the gods. This, then, was and is to-day, together with the other things above mentioned, the office and function of every poet. But since many ignorant persons believe that poetry is naught but fabulous speech, it pleases me, beyond my intention, briefly to show that poetry is theology, before I come to tell why poets are crowned with the laurel.
If we apply our minds, and examine it by reason, I think we can easily discover that the ancient poets have followed, so far as is possible for the human mind, the steps of the Holy Spirit, which, as we see in Holy Scripture, revealed to future generations its highest
secrets by the mouths of many, making them utter under a veil that which in due time it intended to make known openly through works. Therefore, if we closely examine their writings, we shall see that poets described beneath the mask of certain fictions (to the end that the imitator might not appear different from the thing imitated) that which had been, or which was in their day, or that which they presumed or desired would happen in the future.
Wherefore, although the two forms of writing do not have the same end in view, but only a like method of treatment — whereto my mind is chiefly directed at present — the same praise may be given to both in the words of Gregory, who said of the sacred Scripture what may also be said of poetry, namely, that in the same account it discloses the text and its underlying mystery. Thus at the same moment by the one it disciplines the wise, and by the other it strengthens the foolish. It possesses openly that by virtue of which it may nourish little children, and preserves in secret that whereby it holds rapt in admiration the minds of sublime thinkers. Thus it is like a river, if I may use the figure, wherein the little lamb may wade, and the great elephant freely swim. But let us proceed to the verification of these statements.
X. ON THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN POETRY AND THEOLOGY
HOLY SCRIPTURE — which we call theology — sometimes under the form of history, again in the meaning of a vision, now by the signification of a lament, and in many other ways, designs to reveal to us the high mystery of the incarnation of the Divine Word, his life, the circumstances of his death, his victorious resurrection and wonderful ascension, and his other acts, so that, being thus taught, we may attain to that glory which He by his death and resurrection opened to us, after it had been long closed through the sin of the first man. In like manner do poets in their works — which we term poetry — sometimes under fictions of various gods, again by the transformation of men into imaginary forms, and at times by gentle persuasion, reveal to us the causes of things, the effects of virtues and of vices, what we ought to flee and what follow; in order that we may attain by virtuous action the end that they, although they did not rightly know the true God, believed to be our supreme salvation.
Thus the Holy Spirit wished to show by the green bush, wherein Moses saw God like unto a burning flame, the virginity of her that above every other creature is pure, who was to be the habitation and retreat of the Lord of Nature, and yet was not to be contaminated by her conception, nor by the birth of the Word of the Father. In the vision seen by Nebuchadnezzar of the statue of many metals, demolished by a stone which, in turn, was changed into a mountain, the Holy Spirit would declare that all past ages were to be overthrown by the doctrine of Christ, who was and is a living rock, and that the Christian religion, born of this rock, was to become a thing immovable and ever-enduring like the mountains. By the lamentations of Jeremiah it would proclaim the future destruction of Jerusalem.
In like manner our poets, in feigning that Saturn had many children, of whom he devoured all save four, desired to make us perceive merely that Saturn is time, wherein everything is brought forth, and which, even as it produces, also destroys all things and brings them to naught. The four children undevoured by him are first, Jupiter, that is, the element of fire; secondly, Juno, spouse and sister of Jupiter, in other words the air, by means of which fire works its effects here below; thirdly, Neptune, god of the sea, or the element of water; the fourth and last is Pluto, god of hell, that is, the earth, which is lower than any other element.
Similarly, our poets feign that Hercules was transformed from a man into a god, and Lycaon into a wolf. They wished to point the moral that by virtuous action, like that of Hercules, man becomes a god by participation in heaven, and that by acting viciously with Lycaon, albeit one seem a man, of a truth he can be said to be that beast which every one knows through an effect most similar to his defect; even as Lycaon, by reason of his greed and avarice, is represented as changed into a wolf, since these are the characteristics of a wolf. Likewise our poets imagine the beauty of the Elysian Fields, by which I understand the sweetness of Paradise; and the obscurity of Dis, which I take to mean the bitterness of Hell. This they did that we, attracted by the pleasure of the one and terrified by the suffering of the other, might pursue the virtues that will lead us to Elysium, and flee the vices that would cause us to be ferried over to Dis.
I omit the illumination of these things by more detailed illustration, for — although I should wish to make them as clear as is possible and fitting, since they would be most pleasing and would strengthen my argument — I doubt not that I should be carried much farther than the main subject requires, and further than that I do not wish to go.
Certainly enough has been said to make us understand that theology and poetry agree in their method of treatment. But in their subject-matter I say they are not only most diverse, but are even to some extent opposed to each other. For the subject of sacred theology is divine truth, while that of ancient poetry is the men and gods of the pagans. They are opposed, in that theology presupposes nothing unless it be true, while poetry puts forth certain things as true that are surely false, misleading, and contrary to the Christian religion. But certain lackwits rise up against the poets, saying that they have composed evil and indecent fables not consonant with the truth, and that they ought to show their ability and teach their doctrines to mortals in other form than that of fictions; and for this reason I wish to proceed a little further in the present reasoning.
Let these persons, then, consider the visions of Daniel, Isaiah, Ezekiel, and others of the Old Testament, which, described by the divine pen, are revealed by Him for whom there is neither beginning nor end. Let them in the New Testament also consider the visions of the Evangelist, which are full of wonderful truth for those who understand them. And if no poetic fable is found that is so far from truth or probability as, in many places on the surface, these appear to be, let it be conceded, on the other hand, that poets alone have written fables that are not likely to give either pleasure or profit. I might proceed without replying to the censure which they pass on poets because they have made known their teachings in fables or under the guise of fables, for I know that while in this they foolishly blame the poets, they incautiously fall into censuring that Spirit who is no less than the Way, the Truth, and the Life. Yet, notwithstanding, I have in mind to satisfy them somewhat.
It is manifest that everything acquired by labor has more sweetness than that which comes without effort. The obvious truth, since it is quickly and easily seized, delights us and passes into the memory. But in order that, acquired by toil, it should be more pleasing and for that reason the better retained, the poets concealed it under many things that are not, apparently, in accord therewith. They chose fables rather than any other disguise, because the beauties thereof attract those whom neither philosophic demonstrations nor persuasions are able to draw. What shall we say, then, of poets? Shall we hold that they were madmen, as these present lackwits, not knowing whereof they speak, deem them? Certainly they were not. They were rather in their acts men of profound understanding, which is hidden in the fruit, and of an excellent and highly wrought eloquence, which is evident in the bark and leaves. But let us return to the place where we left off.
I say that theology and poetry can be considered as almost one and the same thing when their subject is the same. Indeed I go further, and assert that theology is simply the poetry of God. What is it but poetic fiction to say in one place of Scripture that Christ is a lion and in another a lamb, now that He is a serpent and now a dragon, and in still another place that He is a rock? And He is called by many other names, to repeat all of which would take too long. What else signify the words of the Savior in the Gospel, if not a teaching different from the outward sense, which manner of speaking we term, using a more common word, allegory. It is clear, then, that not only is poetry theology, but also that theology is poetry. And truly if my words, in so great a matter, merit little credence, I shall not be disturbed; at least let Aristotle, a most w
orthy authority on all great questions, be believed, who affirmed that he found the poets were the first theologians. Let this suffice for this part, and let us turn to show why poets alone among learned men have been granted the honor of the laurel crown.
XI. OF THE LAUREL BESTOWED ON POETS
AMONG THE MANY nations that dwell upon the surface of the earth, the Greek, it is believed, was that one to whom philosophy first revealed herself and her secrets. From her treasures they drew forth the military principle, the life of the State, and many other precious things, whereby they became more honored and famous than any other nation. Among the things drawn forth from this treasury was that sacred maxim of Solon which is placed at the beginning of this little work. And to the end that their republic, which was then more flourishing than any other, should walk upright and stand on both feet, they ordained and decreed penalties for evil-doers and rewards for the deserving.
Collected Works of Giovanni Boccaccio Page 451
