by Dante
38. Dante and others in his time believed that the sun was in the constellation of Aries at the creation, which supposedly occurred on 25 March, the date of the Annunciation and of the Crucifixion as well. [return to English / Italian]
55–60. Dante’s second simile in the canto turns from the semantic field of epic and perilous adventure to the more mundane but not much less perilous activity of the merchant or the gambler, his financial life hanging in the balance as he awaits news of an arriving ship or the throw of the dice—just at that moment at which his stomach sinks in the sudden awareness that he has in fact, and unthinkably, lost. See the simile involving gambling and gamblers that opens Purgatorio VI. [return to English / Italian]
61. For Dante’s verb rovinare see Mazzoni (Mazz.1967.1, p. 114), citing Conv. IV.vii.9: “La via … de li malvagi è oscura. Elli non sanno dove rovinano” (The path of the wicked is a dark one. They do not know where they are rushing). Mazzoni points out that Dante is translating Proverbs 4:19, substituting ruinare for the biblical correre. [return to English / Italian]
62. Dante’s phrasing that describes Virgil’s appearance to the protagonist (“dinanzi a li occhi mi si fu offerto”) reminded Tommaseo (commentary to Inf. I.62) of the phrasing that describes Venus’s appearance to her son, Aeneas, when the latter is intent on killing Helen in order to avenge the harm done to Troy by the Greek surprise attack within the walls of the city: “mihi se … ante ocul[o]s … obtulit” (she offered herself to my eyes). [return to English / Italian]
63. Both Brugnoli (Brug.1981.1) and Hollander (Holl.1983.1, pp. 23–79) independently agree on most of the key elements in this puzzling verse: fioco is to be taken as visual rather than aural; silenzio is understood as deriving from the Virgilian sense of the silence of the dead shades (e.g., Aen. VI.264: umbrae silentes). It is fair also to say that neither deals convincingly with the adjective lungo. How can one see that a “silence” is of long duration? A recent intervention by Casagrande (Casa.1997.1, pp. 246–48) makes a strong case for interpreting the adjective lungo as here meaning “vast, extensive,” having a spatial reference. In his reading the verse would mean “who appeared indistinct in the vast silence”; our translation reflects Casagrande’s view. [return to English / Italian]
64. Virgil appears to Dante nel gran diserto. The adjective is probably meant to recall the first description of the place, la piaggia diserta (the desert slope—v. 29). [return to English / Italian]
65–66. Dante’s first spoken word as character in his own poem is Latin (Miserere, “Have mercy”). This is the language of the Church, the first word of the fiftieth Psalm (50:1). Thus our hero is identified as a son of the Church—albeit a currently failing one—at the outset of the work. It has also been pointed out that, typically enough, this first utterance made by the protagonist involves a double citation, the first biblical, the second classical, Aeneas’s speech to his mother, Venus (Aen. I.327–330).
That Dante is trying to ascertain whether Virgil is a shade or a living soul helps interpret v. 63, i.e., he looks as though he is alive, and yet somehow not. [return to English / Italian]
67–87. Alessio and Villa (Ales.1993.1) offer an important consideration of Dante’s debt to the traditional classical and medieval “lives of the poets” in formulating his own brief vita Virgilii in this passage. Among other things, such a view undercuts the argument of those interpreters who try to make Virgil an “allegory” of reason. He is presented as a real person with a real history and is thoroughly individuated. No one could mistake the details of this life for that of another, and no one has. [return to English / Italian]
70. This much-debated verse has left many in perplexity. In what sense are we to take the phrase sub Iulio? What is the implicit subject of the verb fosse? What is the precise meaning of tardi (“late”)? Virgil was born in 70 B.C., Julius died in 44 B.C., and Virgil died in 19 B.C. Hardly any two early commentators have the same opinion about this verse. Has Dante made a mistake about the date of Julius’s governance? Or does sub Iulio only mean “in the days of Julius”? Was Virgil’s birth too late for him to be honored by Julius? Or does the clause indicate that, although he was born late in pagan times, it was still too early for him to have heard of Christianity? The most usual contemporary reading is perhaps well stated in Padoan’s commentary to this verse: the Latin phrase is only meant to indicate roughly the time of Julius, and nothing more specific than that; when Julius died, Virgil was only twenty-six and had not begun his poetic career, which was thus to be identified with Augustus, rather than with Julius. [return to English / Italian]
73. The word poeta is one of the most potent words in Dante’s personal vocabulary of honor and esteem. It is used thirty times in all throughout the poem in this form, seven more times in others. In its first use, here, it constitutes Virgil’s main claim as Dante’s guide. [return to English / Italian]
74. Anchises was the father of Aeneas. [return to English / Italian]
75. The phrase superbo Ilïón clearly mirrors Aen. III.2–3, “superbum / Ilium.” It almost certainly has a moralizing overtone here (see also the note to v. 106, below), while in Virgil it probably only indicates the “topless towers of Troy”; in Dante it gives us some sense that Troy may have fallen because of its superbia, or pride. [return to English / Italian]
77. dilettoso monte: in no ways different from the colle of verse 13. [return to English / Italian]
79. At this first appearance of Virgil’s name in Dante’s text (it will appear thirty times more) it is probably worth noting that Dante’s spelling of the name is not only his, but a widespread medieval idiosyncrasy. Translating “Vergilius” with “Virgilio” was intended to lend the Latin poet a certain dignity (by associating him with the noun vir, man) and/or a certain mysterious power (by associating him with the word virga, or “rod” with magical power). [return to English / Italian]
81. Why is Dante’s head “bent low in shame”? The immediate context is that of Virgil’s rebuke to Dante for his failure to climb the hill and consequent ruinous flight. It is for this reason—or so one might understand—that he feels ashamed. [return to English / Italian]
84. For the lofty resonance of the word volume in the Comedy (as compared with libro, another and lesser word for “book”) see Holl.1969.1, pp. 78–79. The Bible is the only other book so referred to. Two other words that usually refer to God’s divine authority are also each used once to refer to Virgil or his writing: autore (Inf. I.85) and scrittura (Purg. VI.34). [return to English / Italian]
86–87. There has been much discussion of exactly what the “noble style” is and where it is to be found in Dante’s work. The style is the “high style” or “tragic style” found in Virgil and other classical poets and was achieved by Dante in his odes (three of which are collected in Convivio), as he himself indicated in De vulgari eloquentia (see Dve II.vi.7).
Dante’s formulation here goes further, making Virgil his sole source. His later interactions with other poets in hell (e.g., Pier delle Vigne [Inf. XIII], Brunetto Latini [Inf. XV]) or relatives of poets (Cavalcante [Inf. X]) show that not one of them is interested in the identity of Dante’s guide, a fact that reflects directly on the poems left by these three practitioners, which are markedly without sign of Virgilian influence. Thus, not only is Virgil Dante’s sole source for the “noble style,” but Dante portrays himself as Virgil’s sole follower among the recent and current poets of Italy. Perhaps more than any other claim for a literary identity, this sets him apart from them. For Dante’s complicated relationship with his poetic precursors see Barolini (Baro.1984.1). [return to English / Italian]
100–105. In a canto filled with passages that have called forth rivers of commentators’ ink, perhaps none has resulted in so much interpretive excitement as this one. While our commentary always follows Petrocchi’s text of the poem, even when we are in disagreement, we should say that here we are in disagreement. We would capitalize the two nouns “Feltro” and “Feltro,” so t
hat they would indicate place names in northern Italy. The person in Dante’s mind would then be Cangrande della Scala, the youthful general of the armies of Verona when Dante first visited that city ca. 1304. In that case, what we would deal with here is the first of three (see also Purg. XXXIII.37–45, Par. XXVII.142–148) “world-historical” prophecies of the coming of a political figure (in the last two surely an emperor) who, in his advent, also looks forward to the Second Coming of Christ. For an excellent review of the entire problem see C. T. Davis, “veltro,” ED (vol. 5, 1976). For the notion that there is indeed a Virgilian (and imperial) source for Dante’s prophecy in the prediction of Augustan rule in Aeneid I.286–296 see Holl.1969.1, pp. 90–91. [return to English / Italian]
106. The phrase umile Italia surely recalls Virgil’s humilem … Italiam (Aen. III.522–523), as has been frequently noted. Some have argued that, in Dante, the words have a moral tint, mainly contending that the reference is to Italy’s current lowly political condition. [return to English / Italian]
107–108. The curious intermingling of enemies (Camilla and Turnus fought against the Trojan invaders, Euryalus and Nisus with them) helps establish Dante’s sense that Aeneas’s Italian war was a necessary and just one, its victims as though sacrificed for the cause of establishing Rome, the “new Troy.” For the centrality of Rome in Dante’s thought see the volume of the late Charles Till Davis (Davi.1957.1), still the essential study of this important subject. [return to English / Italian]
109–111. Mazzoni (Mazz.1967.1, pp. 137–38) argues strongly for the interpretation of prima as an adjective modifying invidia, and thus for a phrase meaning “primal envy,” when death entered the created world precisely because of Satan’s envy (see Wisdom 2:24: “Through envy of the devil came death into the world.”). He notes the resulting parallel between this line and Inf. III.6, where God is, in His third person, “Primo Amore” (Primal Love). [return to English / Italian]
117. The possibilities for interpreting this verse are various. The “second death” may refer to what the sinners are suffering now (in which case they cry out either for a cessation in their pain—a “death” of it—or against their condition) or it may refer to the “death” they will suffer at the end of time in Christ’s final Judgment (in which case they may either be crying out for that finality or against that horrifying prospect). Mazzoni (Mazz.1967.1, p. 143) was perhaps the first to hear an echo here (now heard by several others) of v. 31 of St. Francis’s “Laudes creaturarum” (for an earlier possible citation of that poem see note to v. 27): “ka la morte secunda no ’l farrà male” (the good soul, liberated by death, hopes that it will not suffer eternal damnation at the Last Judgment). Thus, while the question remains a difficult one, the best hypothesis probably remains Mazzoni’s (Mazz.1967.1, pp. 139–45): the sinners are crying out in fear of the punishments to come after the Last Judgment. [return to English / Italian]
122. Virgil’s self-description as unworthy may reflect a similar self-description, that of John the Baptist. See John 1:27 and related discussion in Holl.1983.1, pp. 63, 71–73. In this formulation Virgil is to Beatrice as John was to Christ. For an earlier moment in Dante’s writing that is based on exactly such a typological construction, one in which Guido Cavalcanti’s Giovanna/John the Baptist is portrayed as the “forerunner” to Dante’s Beatrice/Christ, see VN XXIV.3–4. [return to English / Italian]
125. It is fair to say that most commentators dodge this troublesome word. How could Virgil have been a “rebel” against a God he did not know? We should remember that this formulation is Virgil’s own and may simply reflect his present sense of what he should have known when he was alive. That is, Virgil may be exaggerating his culpability. [return to English / Italian]
132. “This harm” is Dante’s present situation in the world; “and worse” would be his damnation. [return to English / Italian]
134–135. Dante has apparently understood clearly enough that Virgil will lead him through hell and purgatory, but not paradise. Having read the poem, we know that Beatrice will assume the role of guide for the first nine heavens. Virgil seems to know this (see vv. 122–123), but not Dante, who seems to be aware only that some soul will take up the role of Virgil when his first guide leaves him. [return to English / Italian]
INFERNO II
1–6. Against the common opinion (as it exists even today, most recently exhibited by Merc.1998.1) that the first two cantos perform separate functions (e.g., I = prologue to the poem as a whole, II = prologue to the first cantica), Wilkins (Wilk.1926.1) argues, on the basis of discussion of the defining characteristics of prologues found in the Epistle to Cangrande (Epist. XIII.43–48), that Cantos I and II form a unitary prologue to the entire poem as well as to its first cantica (or “canticle”). This reader finds his comments just and convincing. In actuality, all three cantiche begin with two-canto-long prologues containing an invocation, some narrated action, and presentation of details that prepare the reader for what is to follow further along in the poem.
For the structural parallels that also tend to merge the two cantos into a single entity see Holl.1990.2, p. 97: [return to English / Italian]
Inferno I Inferno II
1–27 Dante’s peril 1–42 Dante’s uncertainty
simile (22–27) simile (37–40)
28–60 three beasts 43–126 three blessed ladies
simile (55–58) simile (127–130)
61–136 Virgil’s assurances 127–142 Dante’s will firmed
1–3. The precise Virgilian text that lies behind Dante’s generically “Virgilian” opening flourish is debated. (Major candidates include Aen. III.147, Aen. IV.522–528, Aen. VIII.26–27, Aen. IX.224–225, Georg. I.427–428. See discussion in Mazz.1967.1, pp. 165–66.) These three lines, as has often been noted, have a sad eloquence that establishes a mode of writing to which the poet will return when he considers the Virgilian “tears of things” in the lives of some of his characters. [return to English / Italian]
3. The protagonist, about to descend into hell, is described, perhaps surprisingly, since he is in the company of Virgil, as being alone (“sol uno”). But see Conv. IV.xxvi.9, where Dante describes Aeneas, about to begin his descent ad inferos, similarly as being “alone”: “… when Aeneas prepared, alone with the Sibyl [solo con Sibilla], to enter the underworld.” In Dante’s view, it would seem that the condition of a mortal soul, about to enter the underworld, is one of loneliness, even though it is accompanied by a shade. See Holl.1993.1, p. 256. [return to English / Italian]
4–5. This formulation perhaps refers to the struggle of the protagonist with the difficulties of proceeding (his struggles with fearsome exterior forces ranged against him, from the previously-encountered three beasts in the first canto to Satan in the last) and with his own interior weakness, demonstrated by his occasional surrender to the emotion of pity (beginning with Francesca in the fifth canto and ending when he does not yield to Ugolino’s entreaties for his pity in the thirty-third). For a possible five-part program that marks the development of the protagonist’s strength, as he moves through five cycles of pity and fear in hell, see Holl.1969.1, pp. 301–7. [return to English / Italian]
6. In the words of Singleton’s gloss, “Memory will now faithfully retrace the real event of the journey, exactly as it took place. This most extraordinary journey through the three realms of the afterlife is represented, never as dreamed or experienced in vision, but as a real happening.… Here, then, and in the following invocation, the poet’s voice is heard for the first time as it speaks of his task as poet.” [return to English / Italian]
7–9. The passage including the poem’s first invocation is challenging and has caused serious interpretive difficulty. Why does Dante invoke the Muses in a Christian work? What does alto ingegno (lofty genius) refer to? Is the invocation of two powers (“Muses” and “lofty genius”) or of three (the mente, or “memory,” of verse 8)? For a discussion of these points see Holl.1990.2, pp. 98–100, arguing that the �
�muses” are the devices of poetic making that the individual poet may master, that the “lofty genius” is not Dante’s, but God’s, and that only these two elements are invoked, while “mente” is merely put forward as having been effective in recording the facts of the journey (and is surely not “invoked,” as the very language of the passage makes plain). In this formulation, here and in some of his later invocations Dante is asking for divine assistance in conceptualizing the matter of his poem so that it may resemble his Creator, its source, while also asking for the help of the “muses” in finding the most appropriate expressive techniques for that conceptualization. As for the raw content, that he has through his own experience; he requires no external aid for it. What he does need is conceptual and expressive power, alto ingegno and the poetic craft represented by the “muses.”
It is, given Dante’s fondness for the number of Beatrice, nine, difficult to believe that the fact that there are nine invocations in the poem may be accidental (see Holl.1976.2). For perhaps the first reckoning that accounts for all nine invocations see Fabb.1910.1. It is curious that few commentators have noted the fact that there are, in fact, nine invocations (and only nine) in the poem. They are as follows: Inf. II.7, XXXII.10–12; Purg. I.7–12, XXIX.37–42; Par. I.13–21, XVIII.83–88, XXII.112–123, XXX.97–99, XXXIII.67–75. [return to English / Italian]
10. This verse begins a series of conversations that give the canto its shape. With the exception of the eleventh Canto, 92 percent of which is devoted to dialogue (mainly Virgil’s explanations of the circles of hell, joined by Dante’s responses and questions), no other Infernal canto contains so much dialogue, with 118 of its 142 verses being spoken (83 percent). These conversations form a chiasmus (from the Greek chi, our letter ‘x’), the device of shaping the parts of a text into a perfectly balanced pattern (see Holl.1990.2, p. 100):