Paradiso (The Divine Comedy series Book 3)
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124–129. This is the second consecutive canto in which Dante has not spoken (he is in fact silent from Par. V.129 until Par. VIII.44 [for his considerably longer period of abstention from speech, see Par. IX.81–Par. XIV.96]). In this canto his suppressed speech is reported (but not uttered) at vv. 10–12 and Beatrice speaks his doubt for him in vv. 55–57 and then once more here in this passage. [return to English / Italian]
139–144. For a paraphrase of the first tercet, see Tozer (comm. to vv. 139–141): “From speaking of things without life Beatrice passes to those which possess the sensitive or the vegetative life without the rational soul. These also are not incorruptible, because their life is produced mediately by the influence of the stars, acting on those elements of their nature (i.e., of the matter of which they are composed) which are capable of being affected by them. ‘The brightness and the motion of the holy lights (the stars) draws forth the life of brutes and plants from the combination of elements (complession) in them, which is endued with power (potenziata) thereto,’ i.e., to be so affected. Complession in its technical use means ‘a combination of elements,’ e.g., of humours of the body, or properties of matter.” And see Moevs (Moev.2005.1), p. 125, on this passage: “The souls of all plants and animals are ‘drawn from’ varying compounds of the sublunar elements (complession potenzïata) by the influence of the stars, but human life (the human intelligence or rational soul) ‘breathes directly’ from the ‘supreme beneficence,’ from Intellect-Being itself. That is why the human mind or soul is always in love with, and never ceases to seek union with, the ground of its being, of all being.” [return to English / Italian]
145–148. Moevs (Moev.2005.1), pp. 130–132, points out an error underpinning some commentators’ responses to the Dantean formulation of a central theological issue in this canto: the corruptibility of the first bodies given to humankind directly by God. Their usual position is that this body, created as home of the soul in both Adam and Eve, was incorruptible; thus its “true nature” is incorruptible, despite original sin; with resurrection we regain that incorruptible body. But what, we may ask, of the damned? Clearly their bodies are not of the incorruptible kind, since the damned all-too-painfully recollect the corruptions of the body and live repeating them eternally, as we have seen often enough in Inferno. That is a negative argument, if perhaps a useful one. Moreover, and as Moevs, following O’Keeffe (Okee.1924.1), pp. 61–62, points out, the argument is heretical on its own terms. No Christian authority ever said that the human body was eternal, even in its original Edenic condition (but exactly this opinion is found among some commentators; see, e.g., Fallani [Fall.1989.1], p. 236, holding that it is indeed immortal). And so the question arises: Will we be given what we originally had, a corruptible body washed clean of its sins (unlike the maculate body that is the property of anyone damned), as our soul has been? Or will we receive a truly incorruptible body? In one way of understanding, the body has always been, and always will be, corruptible (even if, resurrected, it will not decay anymore). To triumph in it is also to triumph over it. Moevs concludes his treatment of this problematic passage as follows (p. 132): “Beatrice has re-expressed the great Clementine dictum that God became man so that man may learn from man how to become God.” But see Paul’s discussion of the raising of the dead in I Corinthians 15:35–54, which certainly seems to promise incorruptible flesh to those who participate in the general resurrection. [return to English / Italian]
PARADISO VIII
* * *
1–12. The elaborate and classicizing beginning of the canto is marked by fully six verbs in the imperfect tense (solea, raggiasse, faceano, onoravano, dicean, pigliavano). (For a characterization of their effect, see Ragni’s response, cited in the note to vv. 13–15.) This is one of the longest “single-sentence” canto-openings up to this point in the poem, superseded only by Inferno XXIV.1–15. [return to English / Italian]
2. Venus is “Cyprian” because she was born on the island of Cyprus. [return to English / Italian]
3. Two words in this verse may benefit from closer attention. The verb raggiare is here used in the imperfect subjunctive, thus connoting a certain dubiety about the pagan opinion that the planet Venus was responsible for errors of erotic adventure. Compare Convivio II.vi.9: “… the rays of each heaven are the paths along which their virtue descends [directly from the planet itself] upon these things here below” (tr. R. Lansing). Dante is speaking of Venus there, as he is here. For awareness of this connection, see Poletto (comm. to vv. 1–12).
The concept epicycle (epiciclo), another example of hapax legomenon, was the invention of ancient astronomers because their calculations of planetary movement, based on the belief that the earth was the center of the universe, around which the planets revolved, needed regularizing. And thus all the planets except the Sun supposedly had epicyclical movement. Here is Tozer on the nature of that motion (comm. to vv. 1–3): “The term ‘epicycle’ means a circle, the centre of which is carried round upon another circle; cp. Convivio [II.iii.16–17]. To account for the apparent irregularities in the orbits of the heavenly bodies which resulted from the view that they revolved round the earth which was stationary, Ptolemy suggested that each planet moved in such a circle of its own in addition to the revolution of the sphere to which it belonged. In the case of Venus this is called the third epicycle, because the sphere of Venus is the third in order in the heavens.”
And see Carroll (comm. to vv. 1–21): “Translating all this into its spiritual equivalent, the meaning appears to be: as Venus had one movement round the Earth and another round the Sun, so these souls had two movements of the heart, cyclic and epicyclic, one round some earthly centre, the other round God, of whom the Sun is the natural symbol.” [return to English / Italian]
4–6. The second iteration of the word “ancient” flavors the first, which looks innocent enough when first we notice it: “ancient peoples” is not ordinarily a slur. But it becomes one once it is conjoined with “ancient error,” at once represented by the slaughter of innocent animals (“sacrifice”) and nefarious vows (“votive cry”). [return to English / Italian]
7. Now to the amorous “pantheon,” featuring the pagan goddess Venus, are conjoined her mother, Dione, and her son, Cupid. These three divinities constitute a sort of pagan trinity: Mother, Daughter, Holy Son. [return to English / Italian]
9. See Convivio IV.xxvi.8 for Dido and the promise of eventual further reference to her in the seventh treatise, which, of course, was never completed. Is this Dante’s fulfillment of that promise?
Pietro Alighieri (Pietro1, comm. to vv. 7–9) cites the Virgilian passage, including the line (Aen. I.718) in which Dido’s name, accompanied by gremio (translated by Dante’s grembo, “lap”), appears, a line that describes Venus’s maternal ruse, placing Cupid in Dido’s lap disguised as Ascanius.
Paratore (Para.1989.1), p. 250, points out that the presence of Dido in this canto is yet another connection to Inferno V, such as others find revealed in vv. 32–33, 38–39, 45. [return to English / Italian]
10. Dante “takes his start” with Venus (la bella Ciprigna) at verse 2. However, Vellutello (comm. to vv. 10–12) expands her meaning into the familiar “two Venuses,” the first earthly and carnal, the second heavenly and spiritual. He does not say so, but Dante is possibly loading his phrase with a double sense, talking both about the carnal Venus, with reference to whom he begins this canto, and also his spiritual awakening in his love for Beatrice. [return to English / Italian]
12. The meaning is that the Sun courts Venus, now from behind her (at her neck), now approaching her from the front (his attention fixed on her brow). The celestial phenomenon referred to is the epicyclical movement of Venus around the Sun, in which she moves from west to east, describing a circle around the circumference of her sphere, which, like every planetary sphere, is itself moving in a westerly direction. Thus the countering motion of the planet itself, on its epicycle, takes her from a position in which she has the Sun beh
ind her in the morning, when she is known as Lucifer, to one in which she has him before her in the evening, when she is known as Hesperus. As Bosco/Reggio (comm. to this verse) point out, Venus is not both morning star and evening star on the same day, a fact of which Dante is aware (Conv. II.ii.1). [return to English / Italian]
13–15. Once again the poet allows us to wonder how the protagonist, especially if he is in fact in the body (see Par. I.99), manages to penetrate the physical matter of the planets.
Ragni (Ragn.1989.2), pp. 137–39, points out that the imperfect tense used in the long opening passage (vv. 1–12) is now replaced by the past definite as we move from the hazy distant pagan times and into the hard-edged recent experience of the reality of the Christian afterworld beheld by the protagonist.
It is notable that the rising into the next planet on its epicyclical sphere is accomplished in a single tercet. By comparison, the arrivals in the Moon (Par. II.19–30) and in Mercury (Par. V.86–99) both take considerably more poetic space. [return to English / Italian]
16–30. The five tercets that serve as introduction to Venus are followed by another five tercets that serve to introduce the souls of the saved who descend from the Empyrean to greet Dante here (Charles Martel in this canto, Cunizza, Folco, and Rahab in the next; the last three clearly are associated with an inclination toward carnal love that impaired their moral function, a fact that calls into question the reasons for Charles’s presence here [see the note to vv. 55–57]).
Dante employs first a double simile (vv. 16–21) and then an implicit simile (it is one in content, if not quite in form, vv. 22–27) to describe these souls, before reporting on what they do (vv. 28–30), which is to sing “Hosanna.” [return to English / Italian]
17–18. For the difficulties in ascertaining the actual polyphonic music Dante might have had in mind as he wrote this passage, see Heilbronn (Heil.1984.2), pp. 42–45. [return to English / Italian]
19. We observe that the term lucerne (“lamps,” or “lights”) has now replaced ombre as the term for the souls of the saved. See the note to Paradiso III.34. And for the two following uses of lucerna with this meaning, see Paradiso XXI.73 and XXIII.28. [return to English / Italian]
20–21. Once again the speed at which a spirit moves suggests how intensely it is capable of seeing/loving God. [return to English / Italian]
23. The phrase “whether visible or not” refers to lightning (according to Aristotle, winds made visible by ignition [Carroll, comm. to vv. 22–26]), or windstorms (e.g., hurricanes). [return to English / Italian]
26–27. Against the many commentators who believe that Dante here refers to the Empyrean, where the Seraphim (and the other eight angelic orders are located), Bosco/Reggio (comm. to these verses) point out that, yes, Dante could have been using synecdoche in order to signify all the angelic orders by naming only one, but that the angels are probably meant to be considered seated, as we see that the blessed are. And so they quite reasonably conclude that Dante is referring to the Primum Mobile, where the angelic dance has its beginning with the Seraphim and moves down through the spheres (where we catch a glimpse of it here). [return to English / Italian]
29. For the other occurrences of osanna (a joyous and affectionate shout) in the poem, see the note to Paradiso VII.1. And for the program of song in the last cantica, see the note to Paradiso XXI.58–60. [return to English / Italian]
31–33. One of the souls (we will eventually be able to recognize him as Charles Martel, although he is never named) comes forward to speak for all of them. Indeed, his opening remarks (which conclude at verse 39) are not in any way personal. He in fact is the mouthpiece for all those who have come down. That will no longer be true once Dante asks him who he is, when he has reason to personalize his response. [return to English / Italian]
34–39. Charles informs Dante that here they are whirling with the Principalities, the order of angels that govern the heaven of Venus, which Dante had once (incorrectly) said was that of the Thrones (Conv. II.v.6). He now has firsthand experience of exactly how wrong he was.
Dante is obviously revising a previous opinion about angelology. (For the clarification that in Convivio he had followed the views of Gregory the Great as found in the Moralia, but here as found in his Homilies, see Muscetta [Musc.1968.1], p. 258.) However, something far worse than a scholarly slip by an amateur of angelic lore is probably at stake here. The first ode of Convivio, the opening verse of which is cited, specifically rejects Beatrice in favor of Lady Philosophy. And a good deal of energy in the Commedia is put to the task of retracting the views that reflect that wrongful love. Some scholars, rejecting this notion, point out that Dante never gives over his predilection for philosophical investigation (e.g., Scott [Scot.1995.1], Dronke [Dron.1997.1], and Scott again [Scot.2004.2], pp. 126–29). Such a view is surely correct yet may be said to miss the point: Dante needs to separate himself from his choice of Lady Philosophy over Beatrice, and this requires jettisoning certain of his philosophical baggage, especially that displayed in the first decade of the fourteenth century, that is, not Aristotle, but perhaps Plato (author of the Timaeus) and/or the neoplatonist Proclus (see the note to Par. IV.24); not Aristotle, but perhaps the “radical Aristotelians” (see Corti [Cort.1983.1]).
The modern notion of a palinodic aspect in Dante’s more mature view of his earlier work, in particular Convivio, featuring a certain amount of stern remonstrance on the part of the author of the Commedia against his younger self, began perhaps with Freccero, “Casella’s Song” (1973) (reprinted in Frec.1986.1, pp. 186–94). His position was shared by Hollander (Holl.1975.1), Jacoff (Jaco.1980.1 [to a lesser degree]), Barolini (Baro.1984.1 [also to a lesser degree]), pp. 31–40, 57–84; and see Hollander (Holl.1990.1). For a considerably earlier understanding of the conflict between the two Dantes, see Giovanni Federzoni’s note (Fede.1920.1) to vv. 36–39: “The reason for the reference to the canzone here is that the amatory life, to which the spirits encountered in this planet offered themselves, the Epicurean existence condemned by the austerity of the Christian religion, is, on the contrary, justified by pagan philosophy, the philosophy that Dante himself celebrated in the second treatise of the Convivio and most of all in this very canzone.” And now see Picone (Pico.2002.3). [return to English / Italian]
34. The angelic spirits are now not seated in the Empyrean but whirling in “dance” with the rotation of Venus, its sphere governed by these Principalities. [return to English / Italian]
38. The love that fills the speaker and his companions is obviously caritas, not the lust that they knew from their earthly lives. See the note to vv. 55–57. [return to English / Italian]
39. While the literal sense of his remark is clearly that staying still and quiet to welcome Dante will be no less sweet to them than are their whirling dance and accompanying song, Charles’s way of implicitly reprimanding Dante for his divagation from Beatrice is courtesy itself: “let our not singing your ode seem a favor to you.” Compare Casella’s singing of the ode from Convivio III in Purgatorio II and Cato’s rebuke. [return to English / Italian]
40–41. While Dante turns to Beatrice to gain permission to pose a question to these souls, it seems likely that he might have looked at her to see if she is reflecting upon his disloyalty when he turned away from her to the donna gentile. But he has been through Lethe, and himself cannot remember his fault. But if he cannot remember, we can. He did not behave so reverently to her memory in Convivio, when, as he tells it, after the death of Beatrice he read Boethius and Cicero looking for consolation (silver) and, in his reacquaintance with philosophy, found gold (Conv. II.xii.4): “I who sought to console myself found not only a remedy for my tears but also the words of authors, sciences, and books. Pondering these, I quickly determined that Philosophy, who was the lady of these authors, sciences, and books, was a great thing” (tr. R. Lansing). [return to English / Italian]
44. Here we find the much-debated phrase “Deh, chi siete?” Perhaps the solution is sim
pler than the discussion surrounding it might indicate. In 1894, Poletto (comm. to vv. 40–45) made the only sensible suggestion that this is not only the correct reading (there is much textual evidence on its side, as Scartazzini demonstrated [comm. to vv. 43–44]), but (as even Scartazzini failed to see) more than acceptable phrasing on Dante’s part and a perfectly sensible way for the protagonist to frame his question: “You (the one to whom I am speaking), say who all the rest of you are” (i.e., at least the three others whom we will meet in the next canto). [return to English / Italian]