Dante's Lyric Poetry: Poems of Youth and of the 'Vita Nuova'

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Dante's Lyric Poetry: Poems of Youth and of the 'Vita Nuova' Page 22

by Dante Alighieri


  Among the notable textual links that connect this sonnet to the mystical section of the end of Purgatorio 15, I would include the vision of Saint Stephen during his martyrdom: “Poi vidi genti accese in foco d’ira / con pietre un giovinetto an-cider, forte / gridando a sé pur ‘Martira, martira!’ [Then I saw people stirred up in fiery rage killing a young man with stones, shouting loudly to each other repeatedly ‘Kill, kill!’]” (Purg. 15.106–8). This terzina describes a young man who is killed “with stones” by people “shouting” – in direct address – “Martira, martira!”: the line in Purgatorio “gridando a sé pur: ‘Martira, martira!’” recalls the rocks that shout “Moia, moia” in the redaction of Ciò che m’incontra that we read in the Vita Nuova. The Vita Nuova redaction of the sonnet includes the brilliant substitution of gridare, to shout (“le pietre par che gridin: ‘Moia, moia’”) for dire, to say (“le pietre par che dican: ‘Moia, moia!’”), and thus anticipates even more directly the lines in Purgatorio that describe the vision of Saint Stephen’s martyrdom.76

  The mystical modalities of the Commedia are already largely anticipated in the Vita Nuova. I will give another example, taken again from the conclusion of Purgatorio 15. The condition of one who “guarda pur con l’occhio che non vede,/quando disanimato il corpo giace [looks fixedly with the eye that does not see, when the body lies without its soul]” (Purg. 15.134–5) – lines that evoke Saint Augustine’s description of ecstasy, where the soul is “alienated from the senses of the body” (“a sensibus corporis alienata”) (De genesi ad litteram 12.5.14)77 – is already present in the prose of Vita Nuova XI (5): “lo mio corpo … molte volte si movea come cosa grave inanimata [my body … often moved like a heavy, inanimate object]” (VN XI.3 [5.6]). The “trembling” of the soul provides, moreover, an example of how Dante navigates the transition from lyric subjectivity to objective other-world reality. The “tremare” of these sonnets, which is situated within the narrating self, will later be projected onto the landscape of hell, where it provokes the same effect of mystical transport: we recall the earthquake at the end of Inferno 3, because of which “la buia campagna / tremò sì forte [the dark countryside shook so powerfully]” (Inf. 3.130–1), causing the pilgrim to fall “come l’uom cui sonno piglia [like the man taken by sleep]” (Inf. 3.136) and wake up again literally “transported” to the other shore of the river Acheron. The shaking of self and shaking of earth are already associated in Dante’s imagination in these early sonnets. Thus, Spesse fiate vegnonmi a la mente (the sonnet that follows in the Vita Nuova) refers to the “tremoto” (13) or “earthquake” of his heart: “nel cor mi si comincia uno tremoto,/che fa de’ polsi l’anima partire [a tremour in my heart begins to rise / that drives my soul completely from my blood]” (Spesse fiate, 13–14).

  In the sestet of Ciò che m’incontra, the poem becomes a more conventional sonnet in the manner of Cavalcanti. The first tercet focuses on the compassion that the frightened state of the lover ought to provoke in whoever sees him: “Peccato face chi allor mi vede / se l’alma sbigottita non conforta / sol dimostrando che di me li doglia [Whoever sees me, then, commits a sin / if he does not console my troubled soul,/at least by showing that he shares my grief]” (9–11). But the pity that is aroused by the sight of his appearance – by his “vista morta [look of death]” – is killed by madonna (“ ’l vostro gabbo ancide [your mocking slays]” [12]), the very lady whom the eyes of the poet desire to see even though she causes their death.

  27 (B XII; FB 28; DR 57; VN XV.4–6 [8.4–6])

  First Redaction

  Ciò che m’incontra, nella mente more quando vegno a veder voi, bella gioia; e quando vi son presso, sento Amore

  What comes to pass dies in my memory when I am in your company, my joy; and when I stand near you, I hear Love say:

  4

  che dice: “Fuggi, se ’l morir t’è noia.” Lo viso mostra lo color del core che tramortendo ovunque pò s’appoia, e per l’ebrïetà del gran tremore

  “Flee now, if you disdain the thought of death.” My face reveals the colour of my heart, which, swooning, seeks whatever help it can; and as I tremble in this drunken state

  8

  le pietre par che dican: “Moia, moia!”

  the stones appear to shout out: “Die! Die!”

  Peccato face chi allor mi vede se l’alma sbigottita non conforta

  Whoever sees me, then, commits a sin if he does not console my troubled soul,

  11

  sol dimostrando che di me li doglia, per la pietà che ’l vostro gabbo ancide, la qual si cria nella vista morta

  at least by showing that he shares my grief, by means of pity, which your mocking slays, the pity that is nurtured by the look of death

  14

  degli occhi, c’hanno di lor morte voglia.

  within my eyes that wish themselves to die.

  VN 2. Quand’i’ v. – 3. quand’io vi – io sento – 4. ’l perir – 8. che gridin – 9. allora

  METRE: sonnet ABAB ABAB CDE CDE.

  28 Spesse fiate vegnonmi a la mente

  Spesse fiate vegnonmi a la mente is the last poem of the Cavalcantian section of the Vita Nuova, which stretches from Cavalcando l’altr’ier to the discovery of the new style in Donne ch’avete. Like Ciò che m’incontra, it places the narrating self at the centre of the discourse. Placed by Dante in Vita Nuova XVI (9), this sonnet leaves behind the theme of the gabbo to focus on the “dark” state of the lover – the “oscure qualità” inflicted on him by Love – and on the consequent pity that he feels for himself. The motif of self-pity, very Cavalcantian (the standard reference is Cavalcanti’s incipit A me stesso di me pietate vène), is presented at the start of the sonnet: reflecting on his suffering, the lover finds that self-pity arises in him (“e venmene pietà” [3]), with the result that he wonders rhetorically (in a refined move that reveals the narcissism of the narrator) if there can be any others who experience similar suffering or if he is the only one so afflicted. The words that the self speaks are recorded as direct speech, in the Cavalcantian manner: “io dico: ‘Lasso!, avviene elli a persona?’ [I often ask: ‘Alas, do others ever feel this way?’]” (4).

  There follows a description of the assault by Love, who takes his life, leaving alive only the spirit that talks about madonna: “ch’Amor m’assale subitanamente,/sì che la vita quasi m’abbandona:/campami un spirto vivo solamente,/e que’ riman perché di voi ragiona [For Love assails me unexpectedly,/so that my life all but abandons me:/a single spirit only holds on fast,/and it survives because it speaks of you]” (5–8). It would seem – between deadly Love, fragile life, and spirits destroyed but for one that barely survives – that the sonnet could not become any more Cavalcantian, but the sestet manages, if possible, to outdo the tragic tone of the octave. The lover, dead in appearance and, Cavalcanti-like, lacking in all force and existential worth (“e così smorto, d’onne valor voto [and pale as death, and drained of all my might]” [10]), tries to see his lady, believing (why, is anyone’s guess!) that the sight of her will heal him (“vegno a vedervi, credendo guerire [I come to see you hoping to be healed]” [11]), while instead she makes him plummet back into the trembling already so dramatically described in Ciò che m’incontra (recall the “gran tremore” of line 7 in that sonnet). Spesse fiate ends with the death of the lover, whose soul departs because of the internal “earthquake” that he feels when he raises his eyes to gaze on madonna: “e se io levo li occhi per guardare,/nel cor mi si comincia uno tremoto,78/che fa de’ polsi l’anima partire [but if I lift my eyes to look at you,/a tremour in my heart begins to rise / that drives my soul completely from my blood]” (12–14). The essay on Ciò che m’incontra treats the link between the lover’s interior “earthquakes” in these early sonnets and the later external earthquakes that will be analogously “transporting” (as at the end of Inferno 3).

  In the economy of the Vita Nuova, Dante structurally joins together the three sonnets that are usually referred to as the gabbo poems – Con
l’altre donne mia vista gabbate, Ciò che m’incontra, nella mente more, and Spesse fiate vegnonmi a la mente – binding them in the real and material sequence of the libello. He also joins them together thematically, not as much by means of the gabbo motif as by the fact that in these sonnets he does something he does not do elsewhere in the Vita Nuova: he directly addresses madonna (in the sonnets we do not know who this might be, in the Vita Nuova she is Beatrice) to talk to her about himself. Dante underscores this point in the prose that follows Spesse fiate, where he writes of “questi tre sonetti, ne li quali parlai a questa donna che fuoro narratori di tutto quasi lo mio stato [these three sonnets in which I addressed this lady directly, since they told almost everything about my state],” then deciding, in the same sentence, to be silent and say no more about himself: “tacere e non dire più però che mi parea di me assai avere manifestato [to be silent and write no more since I felt I had explained enough about myself].” He concludes that “a me convenne ripigliare matera nuova e più nobile che la passata [I needed to take up new and nobler subject matter than that of the past]” (VN XVII.1 [10.1]).

  In their lyrical dress these sonnets are part of a courtly world (Con l’altre donne) made ever more tragic and Cavalcantian (Ciò che m’incontra and Spesse fiate). In their more than lyrical dress, in the narrative and ideological dress created by the invention of the unitary and unifying prose of the Vita Nuova, these same three sonnets become emblems of that part of the world inherited by Dante that is destined to fail and that he will have to discard and surpass. Inserting these sonnets in the Vita Nuova in the order in which we find them, an order that moves inexorably towards the death of the poet, and commenting on them within the prose setting, Dante uses them as signs of the self-mutilating narcissism of the lyrical culture that precedes him – a culture that, as he proclaims, he will replace with a “matera nuova e più nobile che la passata.”

  28 (B XIII; FB 29; VN XVI.7–10 [9.7–10])

  Spesse fiate vegnonmi a la mente le oscure qualità ch’Amor mi dona, e venmene pietà, sì che sovente

  I often call to mind the spells of grief that Love inflicts on me, and then I feel such pity for myself I often ask:

  4

  io dico: “Lasso!, avviene elli a persona?”; ch’Amor m’assale subitanamente, sì che la vita quasi m’abbandona: campami un spirto vivo solamente,

  “Alas, do others ever feel this way?” For Love assails me unexpectedly, so that my life all but abandons me: a single spirit only holds on fast,

  8

  e que’ riman perché di voi ragiona.

  and it survives because it speaks of you.

  Poscia mi sforzo, ché mi voglio atare; e così smorto, d’onne valor voto,

  I try to summon strength to help myself, and pale as death, and drained of all my might,

  11

  vegno a vedervi, credendo guerire: e se io levo li occhi per guardare, nel cor mi si comincia uno tremoto,

  I come to see you hoping to be healed. But if I lift my eyes to look at you, a tremour in my heart begins to rise

  14

  che fa de’ polsi l’anima partire.

  that drives my soul completely from my blood.

  METRE: sonnet ABAB ABAB CDE CDE.

  29 Degli occhi della mia donna si move

  We have reached the point in Dante’s trajectory in which Cavalcantian influence begins not so much to lose its grip as to mingle with Guinizzellian motifs. Contini defines Degli occhi della mia donna as “a typical and one might say average stil novo sonnet,” because “to the general Guinizzellian motif of the salutary lady, of the extraordinary effects of her gaze,” with which the sonnet opens “is added the Cavalcantian motif of ‘paura’ [fear]” (p. 55), a theme that we have seen in Ciò che m’incontra and Spesse fiate. This formula of uniting Guinizzellian and Cavalcantian motifs will be elaborated, as we shall see, in the great early canzoni Lo doloroso amor and E’ m’incresce di me.

  The light that moves from the eyes of madonna is such “that where it is manifest / things are revealed that cannot be described / because they are uncommon and sublime”: “che dove appare / si veggion cose ch’uom non può ritrare / per lor altezze e per lor esser nove” (2–4). Here we find the Dantean theme of representation, seen from the perspective of that which “cannot be described” (“uom non può ritrare”), in other words, from the perspective of our incapacity to represent things in the face of a reality that surpasses our ability for representation. The meta-theme of “ritrare” functions as a mirror: as the poet is incapable at his craft of making representations, so the lover is an abject being, defeated and “vinto [subdued]” (9). He experiences “paura [fear]” (6; also see “gli occhi paurosi [my frightened eyes]” [10]), rejection (“Qui non voglio mai tornare [I’ll never go back there again]” [7]), loss of self (“ma poscia perdo tutte le mie prove [but after all my efforts come up short]” [8]), failure (“e tornomi colà dov’io son vinto [I go back to the place where I’m subdued]” [9]), and annihilation – not only of his eyes (“ed e’ son chiusi [they’re closed up tight]” [12]) but also of his desire itself: “lo disio che li mena qui è ’stinto [the desire that brought them here is spent]” (13). Degli occhi della mia donna is a catalogue of the inadequacies of the lover, one that brings him inexorably to a conclusion in which, no longer able to attend to himself, he puts himself in the hands of Love: “però proveggi a lo mio stato Amore [so then let Love provide for my well-being]” (14).

  The most notable aspect of this sonnet is the poet’s declaration that he can see, illuminated by the eyes of his lady, things that cannot be portrayed “because they are uncommon and sublime”: “per lor altezze e per lor esser nove” (4). The theme of the new that we find in “per lor esser nove” is of primary importance in Dante: it will eventually result in the “poetics of the new” of the Commedia, but harkens back to the earliest lyrics. We must remember that Dante himself glosses the word nuovo in the phrase “nuovo e mai non fatto cammino di questa vita [new and never travelled road of this life]” (Convivio 4.12.15). The primary meaning of the word in Dante’s usage always preserves a temporal dimension (nuovo = “mai non fatto,” literally “never before done”), and so also a figural one. As creator, God is an artist who “presents” rather than “re-presenting”: God is “Colui che mai non vide cosa nova [He who never saw a new thing]” (Purg. 10.94) because His is a condition of omniscience that precedes history, that precedes the new things that we encounter on the path of life, that is always prius (“semper enim quod naturalius est prius est [that which is more natural is always first],” says Saint Thomas, ST I-II, q. 49, a. 2). Dante instead, as re-presenter, delivered over to the flux of history and of the new, is in search of the newest new thing, the most special created being, the one that will give him an advantage over other re-presenters. The figure of his lady serves him to this end: “Poi la reguarda, e fra se stesso giura / che Dio ne ’ntenda di far cosa nova [He looks at her and to himself he swears / that God intends to make a thing that’s new]” (Donne ch’avete intelletto d’amore, 45–6). His lady is a “cosa nova,” who gives him access to a stil novo.

  29 (B LXV; C 18; FB 30; DR 58)

  Degli occhi della mia donna si move un lume sì gentil, che dove appare si veggion cose ch’uom non può ritrare

  A light emerges from my lady’s eyes so noble that where it is manifest things are revealed that cannot be described

  4

  per lor altezze e per lor esser nove; e li suo’ razzi sovra ’l mio cor piove tanta paura, che mi fa tremare, e dicer: “Qui non voglio mai tornare”;

  because they are uncommon and sublime. And in her radiance my heart is bathed with fear so much I tremble and am forced to say: “I’ll never go back there again.”

  8

  ma poscia perdo tutte le mie prove,

  But after all my efforts come up short

  e tornomi colà dov’io son vinto riconfortando gli occhi paurosi

  I go back to the place where I’m subd
ued, providing comfort to my frightened eyes,

  11

  che sentier prima questo gran valore. Quando son giunti, lasso!, ed e’ son chiusi; lo disio che li mena qui è ’stinto:

  which were the first to feel that powerful glance. When they arrive, alas, they’re closed up tight, and the desire that brought them here is spent:

  14

  però proveggi a lo mio stato Amore.

  so then let Love provide for my well-being.

  METRE: sonnet ABBA ABBA CDE DCE.

  30 Ne le man vostre, gentil donna mia

  The sonnet has an explicitly biblical opening, for the first words of the poet-lover, “Ne le man vostre, gentil donna mia,/raccomando lo spirito che more [My gentle noble lady, in your hands / I now entrust my spirit as it dies],” echo the words of Christ on the cross: “In manus tuas commendo spiritum meum [Into your hands I commend my spirit]” (Luke 23:46). The lover, as he “dies,” addresses his lady with the words that Christ – as he died – spoke to God. In the analogy established by these lines, the lover is compared to Christ and the lady to God. The analogy is excessive and does not easily gain the reader’s assent.

  Characterized by the mix of Cavalcantian elements and biblical elements, Ne le man vostre is part of an experimental phase that carries Dante to the verge of the Vita Nuova, a text that too makes use of biblical elements and mixes them with courtly elements. The hybrid result of the Vita Nuova is, however, very different from that of this sonnet – so different, in fact, that the exclusion of Ne le man vostre from the libello comes as no surprise. I disagree with the observation of Contini, according to whom in the “spirito” of the second line there is a “fusion of the biblical spirit with the stil novo spirit,” a fusion that makes it “less easy than for other lyrics … to come up with a plausible hypothesis as to why this sonnet was not put into the Vita Nuova” (p. 58). Much more to the point is De Robertis, who notes that the words of the dying Christ, “Into your hands I commend my spirit,” are “here integrated with the phrase ‘che more’ (‘as it dies’), which is a Cavalcantian addition” (ed. comm., p. 339).

 

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