Inferno (Canto 21-34):

Through the end of Inferno, I continued to find notable deviations from the value set and principles of the ancient Greeks and Romans. After Dante sees crucified Friars, Fra Catalano says, "that one impaled there, whom you see, counseled the Pharisees that it was prudent to let one man--and not one nation--suffer" (23.117). Whereas Homer portrays a certain glory in dying for one's country's war, and Virgil prioritizes the well-being of the city-state over the well-being of the individual, here, Dante implies that it is unacceptable to let one man suffer in place of a whole nation. While of course I'm of the school that it would be better if no one had to die for their country, I think the rationale here is somewhat bizarre: wouldn't it be better for one person to suffer than for many? Part of Dante's purpose in including this may be a glorification of Christ, but I think it also marks an interesting shift in ideas about what an individuals' obligation is to his or her nation.
On a similar note, when Dante accidentally steps on face of one of the treacherous souls buried in the ice, Dante says "I am alive, and can be precious to you if you want fame." Despite the extreme shift in social values, "fame" is still inevitably a significant consideration. The soul replies: "I want the contrary . . . your flattery is useless in this valley" (32.90), emphasizing the important point (often ignored in Homer) that glory does not actually benefit you because you are dead and don't live to enjoy it.

Most of the classical influence in Inferno has been fairly straightforward. However, in two passages of this section, it seems that classical scenes are purposefully perverted. For instance, the scene in Canto 25 in which the Five Florentine thieves, some snakes, some men, combine, morph together, and shift places,  is described incredibly gruesomely. This metamorphosis mirrors those in Ovid's Metamorphoses, but whereas the metamorphoses in Ovid were unidirectional, and resulted in one thing entirely changing into another, the shift here is two-way, and results in a grotesque perversion of nature. Whereas Ovid, as most Romans, was not terribly concerned with the concept of sin, and the transformations that he describes, though they may be enacted as punishments, are not in themselves painful or punitive, Dante uses this transformation as a part of the souls' punishment. As I talked about in the last post, this perversion of the natural world may serve to emphasize both the extent to which the souls have become twisted and malformed as they act upon evil, as well as the extent of the evil present in Hell.
Another interesting reversal of Roman lore is Dante's encounter with Guido da Montefeltro in Hell. This echoes Aeneas' encounter with Anchises, in which Anchises prophecies future of Rome. However, while in Virgil's scene Aeneas is hearing about the future from a shade, in Inferno, Dante, the alive soul, tells Guido da Montefeltro about how his city in present day "lives somewhere between tyranny and freedom" (27.54). The fact that Guido inquires about the world (much as Aeneas asks Anchises), but the best Dante can offer is a description of the mediocrity of his city (rather than a glorious spiel about the founding of Rome) casts humanity's prospects an extremely depressing light. Furthermore, the fact that Dante, the living soul, is the one with knowledge illustrates that one of the punishing elements of Hell is that is causes total disconnect with and ignorance of all that is important to an individual, for one, their city.

On this theme of ignorance, both in and out of Hell, I found that Dante emphasizes the limitations of human intellect. At beginning of Canto 28, he muses on own ability to accurately recount the experience of Dis, says "the shallowness of both our speech and intellect cannot contain so much" (28.4). Confessions similarly alludes to the inadequacy of intellect, in that uneducated people can reach God before educated ones. Another interesting addition to this idea is Dante's encounter with the two men in the innermost circle of Dis whose souls exist in the underworld despite the fact that their bodies still roam the earth. One of these men says, "I have no knowledge of my body's fate within the world above" (33.122). The concept that a human body and soul are so separable that the soul can exist without any awareness of the body emphasizes the extremity of the limitations of human knowledge: if we cannot be aware even of ourselves, then we can never hope to know as much as God. This inadequacy of intellect also seems to emphasize that humans cannot attain good in this way, and so must turn to God instead.

The final Canto of Inferno was totally befuddling to me. When Dante reaches Dis, he says "I did not die, and I was not alive; think for yourself, if you have any wit, what I became, deprived of life and death" (34.25). I feel like I do not, as Dante requires, have any "wit" in this case, because I can't figure out "what I became." The only connection I see here is that "deprived of life and death," Dante is a bit like the figures in the outermost circle of Dis, who did nothing good and nothing bad, but still suffer, emphasizing the sin that exists even in neutrality. I suppose this duality of life and death could only exist when a live human travels into Dis (as Dante does), but perhaps Dante is implying that the pain of Hell arises because the souls there are neither alive nor truly and peacefully dead.

Inferno (Canto 11-20): Pineapple and Purgatory

While reading these ten songs of Inferno, I was munching my way through a massive slice of carrot cake at Magnolia Bakery. Frosting and fraud? Pineapple and purgatory? A bit of a strange combination.

Anyway, here are some of my (less sugary) thoughts on the midsection (pun intended) of Inferno.

As an obviously Christian text, Inferno necessarily contains an omniscient, omnipotent God. However, I thought Dante included some interesting deviations and layers of complexity to this conception of God.

Dante says to Virgil "you are my lord; you know I do not swerve from what you will; you know what is unspoken" (19.37). In referring to Virgil as his lord, and saying that he knows what is unspoken (i.e. has a level of omniscience), Dante casts Virgil as a god-like figure. In a similar vein, at the end of Canto 16, Virgil can hear Dante's thoughts, again occupying the omniscient role of God. I interpreted this in two ways: either Virgil is a manifestation of God (which is problematic in Virgil occupying the role of Christ), or Dante is praising Virgil to the extent holding him at the level of the divine. Either way, this parallel is theologically complicated and I suspect contentious in Dante's time. By granting Virgil these godly powers, God's own power seems diminished. This also comes up when Dante is describing the 7th circle of hell, and says "just so were these embankments, even though they were not built to high and not so broad, whoever was the artisan who made them" (15.10). It is apparent from this passage that God did not create hell. On one hand, this makes sense, because it would be difficult to imagine a benevolent God creating something this wicked (as Augustine points out). On the other, the idea that a) God has not created everything and b) there is this entire world of hell in conflict with the world God did create, draws God's omnipotence into question. 

Because hell is a punishment for sins, Dante's conception of hell reflects upon specific Christian values In general, Dante's description of the different sinners' punishments reflect a policy that you get what you've given (ex. the astrologers and diviners who tried to see the future have their heads turned backwards). In my opinion, this essentially condones revenge, at least in the sense of divine retribution. On one hand, if I believed in God, I would be horrified by a God who was vengeful. On the other hand, this type of punishment also echoes the non-Christian ideal of karma (what goes around comes around).

Speaking of the damned astrologers in the Eighth Circle of hell, I found that Greek and Christian views of theology to differ in an interesting way. In Greek tradition, divination extremely important: we see oracles in Homer, Virgil, and Herodotus, and the word of these oracles is taken seriously. However, in Dante's hell the diviners are condemned. He describes "those sad women who had left their needle, shuttle, and spindle to become diviners" (20.121), alleging that divination is bad because it takes place of other productive tasks. I think, however, that this is not the main reason for its criticism: in Christian theology, divination can't exist because God knows future, so the only acceptable way to try to know the future is through trying to know God.

On a final note, the motif of natural settings permeates all circles of Dis. Almost every Canto in which Dante enters a new circle includes a physical, natural description (for example, the beginning of Canto 13). This, along with the intensely physical descriptions of suffering, seems to conflate the body and soul, and sin of the body/sin of the soul much more explicitly than Augustine suggests in Confessions.
It seems that Dante also sometimes mixes natural metaphors, such as when he is talking about the people who were violent against god, upon whom "above that plain of sand, distended flakes of fire showered down" (14.28). The paradoxical sand, flame, and flakes (snow?) represent a perversion of nature, perhaps intended to reflect the extent to which the sinners have perverted custom or even the natural order of the universe by being violent towards God.

Inferno (Canto 1-10): Beasts, Values, and Epic form

Because the epic genre is defined by the meter, Inferno is not "officially" an epic. However, I think that Dante, while obviously doing a little bit of Aeneid fan fiction, has significantly different purpose from those of the Homeric and Virgilian epics. Dante opens Inferno more or less in media res, in contrast to the extensive background of family feuds, divine bickering, and fates often provided in epic. Immediately, this points the focus to the individual rather than the city-state. Though of course the Iliad, Odyssey, and Aeneid all generally follow one character, they address a far broader scope and more perspectives than does Inferno. Notably, this is also the first fiction written in first person that we've read, a perspective which in a way serves to combine the story of personal journey, introspection, and discovery of Confessions with the more sensationalist backdrop of a mystical world pulled from Virgil's Aeneid.

An interesting motif that prevails throughout the first ten songs (and I expect through the entire book) is the role of beasts. In Book 1, Dante encounters the leopard, lion, and hound, then later Minos and Cereberus. Out of these, all fulfill the stereotypical characterization of the brutality and inhumanity of beasts. However, they also hold significant and important jobs: Minos delegates souls to the circles of hell, and Cereberus is a guard to one of the circles. The prevalence of unfavorable described creatures holding important roles in the underworld seems to serve two purposes: to echo the dismal, basal state to which the souls have returned and thus to emphasize the horrors of hell (perhaps in a Christian, didactic way), and possibly to pervert the normal social order of the upper world for the sake of making a comment on the condition of the real world at the time of Dante's writing.

It is also notable which characteristics are condemned and which are valued within the paradigm of a Christian as opposed to a Greek underworld. Right before Dante enters the underworld, he says "I myself prepared alone to undergo the battle" (2.4), with "battle" alluding to the Homeric culture of war and accompanying pursuit of glory. Even in a culture so removed from ancient Greece, it is difficult to avoid a little self-glorification: the pursuit of renown, whether in battle or in memorialization through literature (or, as we see here, a conflation of both), seems universally and inescapably human.

In Book 3, the ante-inferno, there is a related condemnation of "those who lived without disgrace and without praise" (3.36). The idea that neutrality in life is unacceptable echos the pursuit of renown, but recasts the homeric idea as an action necessary in avoiding hell. 

I noticed one other interesting development of values in the description of Virgil's fear, when "the poet, who was deathly pale, began" (4.14). This depiction of Virgil's fear and decision to continue anyway brings to mind a definition of bravery that I've heard before (though I can't remember where...probably some children's book): bravery is not the absence of fear, but is persevering despite fear.

On a final note, I think there are some subtle (and some not-so-subtle) parallels to Augustine's Confessions here.  Francesca says "there is no greater sorrow than thinking back upon a happy time in misery" (5.121). This echoes Augustine's discussion in Book 10 about the uniquely human capability to remember emotions without re-experiencing them, or even while experiencing the opposite emotion. Though Augustine marvels at this, in Inferno the ability to lament joys passed compounds souls' misery, casting this human capacity in a less positive light. Another parallel lies in Augustine and Dante's treatment of individuality. Augustine discusses the universal human pursuit of joy in truth, and desire for a happy life, eliminating consideration of individual character in this equation. In Dante's underworld, people are characterized only by the nature of their sins, "the undiscerning life which made them filthy now renders them unrecognizable "(7.53). Dante's underworld physically depicts the loss or absence of individuality that I understand from Augustine to be part of belief in a Christian god.