Catholic Thought discussion
The Divine Comedy
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Paradiso, Cantos X thru XIV
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Mod
You are doing fine summing-ups of these Cantos Manny. I find the Hollander translations which you recommended superior (with the Princeton resources) to the Sinclair translation I read before. It allows for a much closer reading and appreciation of Paradiso. I found Canto XIV particularly stimulating. My reading of it:Beatrice discerns a question Dante has if the brilliant light that shines from the saints will not become “distressing” to his sight to be able to endure it. When he wonders on that the circle of dancers around him show heightened joy in wheeling around. Anyone witnessing it would not regret death if he saw what awaits him:
Whoever here on earth laments that we must die
to find our life above knows not the fresh relief
found there in these eternal showers. (L. 25-27)
The singing of the circles of dancers praising the Divine Trinity “would be fit reward for any merit.” (L. 33)
He hears a response from the lesser circle that he compares to how Gabriel perhaps greeted the Blessed Mother Mary. The voice tells him that their brightness corresponds to their ardor, their ardor to their power of sight, and that to their grace. When we regain our bodily form and become complete then the light that God gives us will increase as will our vision and radiance which come from love. He uses another simile comparing the body that will be still in the earth to a glowing coal in a fire that outshines the flame around it. Our bodily organs will be strengthened to sustain the body that will be glorified. The two circles of dancers showed a desire to for their bodies and those of their mothers, fathers, and others. Another circle of lights appears beyond the other two circles like the rising sun and as the stars lights. These are newly visible souls. Dante is overwhelmed by “true incandescence of the Holy Breath!” (L. 76) He sees Beatrice also “so fair” that “this vision of her must remain among those sights that have escaped my memory.” (80-81)
Dante ascends with Beatrice to the red glowing Mars. He says a prayer of thanksgiving for the new grace he received. He tells us that he remembers the vision “in that dawn” but he has no skill to express how he saw Christ. He heard harmonies of many violin and harp strings in a melody that did not make for him a hymn. He only can distinguish the words “Arise” and “Conquer” and is moved to great love by this as never before. It occurs to him though that he may be slighting Beatrice with these words. He tries to exonerate himself in the concluding lines of the Canto but his argument is much complicated.
Mod
Mod
"He hears a response from the lesser circle that he compares to how Gabriel perhaps greeted the Blessed Mother Mary."
Notice that in a discussion of recovering our physical bodies at the end of time, Dante (the author) brings in the Annunciation, the incarnation of Christ, He entering the world as a physical body. Of course that's not an accident.
Before we go any further, I believe we have a spelling error in the title we are discussing. The only "Paradisio" I find is a name of a dance group or a botanical garden in Belgium.
Mod
Oh, you're right. I think I've been typing it Paradisio this whole time. How dumb. Thanks Galicius.
PS, reminds me when I kept typing your name Galicious. LOL.
Mod
I have to admit I'm a terrible speeler in English. Why would anyone expect me to better in Italin? :-P
Thank you Manny. Just the heading stood out for me. I use MS Word before I post anything. It picks up and corrects mostly everything.
Mod
But if you think of it this way, the light emanating from the sun is so intense that it obliterates all detail of feature, and the further away from the sun the more detail is possible. The moon is the furthest away, so Dante (the character) can almost make out Piccarda’s features. So perhaps there isn’t a hierarchy, but a relationship to the distance from the sun. That would make a two part hierarchy, those before the sun and those from the sun and after. I’m not sure which of these two possibilities Dante is suggesting.
Also, the sunlight causes shadows, and, though we don’t have any mention of shadows, there is a metaphoric shadow, the limitations on the souls in from the sun. But this only works in one direction, toward the earth. We can see the souls at the moon, Mercury, and Venus as casting a shadow, their limitation. Behind the sun is the same intense light as at the sun. Shadows are obliterated.
So at the sun, we have a major division, and it’s noteworthy that it’s in the tenth canto. In Inferno, Dante entered the City of Dis at the tenth canto. In Purgatorio, Dante entered purgatory proper at that tenth canto. All three cantica have a divisional transition at the tenth canto. I have said how integrated is the Divine Comedy. Here is another example.
At the sphere of the sun, there are five prominent characters not including Dante and Beatrice. There is St. Thomas Aquinas, St. Bonaventure, Solomon, and though they are only described, St. Francis of Assisi and St. Dominic de Guzman, both founders of respective orders and perhaps the preeminent saints of the middle ages. The sphere of the sun are for the souls who were paragons of wisdom, either through learning—as seen with the souls in the first garland—or through mysticism—as seen with those in the second garland.
St. Thomas is the principal representative of the sphere of the sun, and we know of his great effort at absorbing all knowledge into his Summa Theologica. Hollander points out a fascinating parallel, the very first word that Thomas speaks is “Quando,” and it’s placed as the last word of a line. Back in Inferno, the character whose very first word was also “Quando” and also oddly placed as the last word of a line was Ulysses (see Inf.XXVI.90). Did I mention how incredibly integrated is La Commedia? Indeed, both characters were people who strove for total knowledge, knowledge of all things in the universe. They are two characters of same coin.
But while Ulysses strove only for his own prideful self, Thomas accumulated knowledge to preach the divine Word. He strove for no personal honors, and so notice his humility when he speaks. He calls himself a “lamb” when we know he was nicknamed an ox. When he goes through his catalogue of saints in the first garland, he puts himself second. He gives deference to his “brother and teacher” Albert the Great and to the founder of his order, St. Dominic. He doesn’t say that he is the greatest of the lights at the sun, but another, Solomon.
Thomas the Dominican goes on to delineate the virtues of St. Francis of Assisi. Thomas’s central point of St. Francis is that he was the lover of Lady Poverty, and the personification is significant. Indeed, at one point it sounds like almost a sexual union, “he joined himself to her” (XI.62). When Francis marries Lady Poverty, she is a widow, her first husband being Jesus Christ. In embracing Lady Poverty like a bride, Francis has restored virtue to a church that had become too worldly.
As a complement to Thomas, St. Bonaventure, the Franciscan, goes on to laud the virtues of St. Dominic. St. Dominic is portrayed as taking Lady Faith as his love and bride, and, as a knight fighting for his lady fair, combats the heresies that taint the virtue of Lady Faith. He too seems joined in sexual union (“amorous lover of the Christian faith”) with his lady. By embracing Lady Faith, Dominic has restored has restored truth to the church, traveling “through the vineyard/which quickly withers if the keeper is corrupt” (l. 86-87). The other controlling metaphor in describing Dominic is that of a paladin.
'Then, both with learning and with zeal,
secure in apostolic office, he went forth,
like a torrent gushing from its lofty source,
'and fell upon the tangled weeds of heresy,
attacking with his overwhelming force
wherever the resistance was most stubborn. (XII.97-102)
Hollander points out, and I agree, that Dante (the author) goes overboard with this imagery of militarism. He says that St. Dominic was “gentle to his own and savage to his foes” (l.57). Unfortunately the average person knows a lot less about St. Dominic than St. Francis. St. Dominic was a gentle soul, hardly savage. One of the first stories about St. Dominic is how he converted an innkeeper. The innkeeper followed the Albigensian heresy, and when St. Dominic found out stayed up all night conversing with the man, and by the break of morning, the Innkeeper had converted to doctrinal faith. It has been said Dominic “befriended” an order, meaning his order grew by his ability to embrace people in friendship. There was no sense of fighting in anything he did that I know of. Either Dante was under a wrong impression or he takes his metaphor too far.
This crisscrossing of Dominican praising a Franciscan and a Franciscan praising a Dominican is a wonderful touch. It was said that at this time the two orders were rivals and some bad blood had developed between the two. I don’t know if that is true, but it sounds correct. Dante (the author) ends each of the two discourses on the two founding saints in a similar way. The Dominican, who has been praising Francis, points out how untrue the Dominicans of today (Dante’s day) have become. And the Franciscan, who has been praising Dominic, speaks of how the Franciscans of the day have lapsed from the rule. Dante (the author) as his custom throughout the Commedia highlights a degeneration from an ideal height to his day. If the two orders were quarreling, neither could claim the moral high ground.
It should be pointed out that Dante (the author) was a Lay Franciscan but one who was a great admirer of St. Thomas Aquinas. Indeed, the whole Divine Comedy owes so much to Thomistic thought. Obviously he had read much of St. Thomas’ work. He places St. Thomas as the central character under the sphere of the sun, and though St. Thomas says that Solomon is the brightest light, we can see that Thomas is the pinnacle of the sphere.
The two garlands of saints is such a wonderful image. It suggests a laurel wreath placed on a hero’s head. The twelve blessed in each ring suggest the twelve apostles. The two wreaths heighten a couplet imagery than runs in this section: Thomas and Bonaventure, Francis and Dominic, learning and mysticism, spirit and flesh. The couplets could all fit the metaphor of two wheels of a single chariot (XII.106), the chariot being the Church. At the end, shattering the duality that has prevailed, Dante (the author) brings in a third set of lights.
And just as, at the approach of evening,
new lights begin to show throughout the sky,
so faint they seem both real and yet unreal,
it seemed to me that I began to see
new subsistences there that formed a ring
beyond the other two circumferences.
Ah, true incandescence of the Holy Breath!
How suddenly its glowing shone before me,
so bright my eyes could not endure it! (XIV.70-78)
The third ring is analogized as being formed like the Holy Spirit is formed, that is as a function of the love between the Father and the Son. The wreaths are now a Trinity! But who would reside in the third wreath? Hollander provides a couple of theories but there is nothing conclusive. I personally like the thought that Christ’s twelve apostles reside in that third ring.
Mod
A motif that’s been running through the entire Paradiso is that of the souls dancing. I think it’s been noted at every sphere so far. We see here at the opening of Canto XII when the second wreath approaches the first and “matches it motion for motion and song for song” (l.6) But what is the nature of this dance? I think we get more detail further down:
When the dance and all the other celebration --
the singing and the brilliant blaze of flames,
light with light blent in ardent joy –
came to a stop together and of one accord,
as eyes, when beauty moves them,
must open wide or close as one,
from the core of one of these new lights,
as the north star makes a compass needle veer,
rose a voice that made me turn to where it came from. (XII.22-30)
The dancers “match motion for motion,” and come “to a stop together of one accord” like a pair of eyes must open and shut together. What a brilliant simile. Eyes move in unison. All the motion of the dance is in unison. Medieval dancing was not like disco dancing where everyone moves to their personal rhythm, or even couples dancing where each couple differently than another. Here we have twenty-four spirits dancing in unison. I picture it more like the Olympic sport, synchronized swimming, where everyone performs the same motion in harmony.
The Holy Spirit is a strong presence in these cantos. Dante starts with the Holy Spirit in the opening lines of Canto X, “Gazing on His Son with the Love/the One and the Other eternally breathe forth” (l.1-2) and ends with the Holy Spirit as the third garland suddenly comes forth from the splendor of the other two. Well, that would make sense since the Holy Spirit is associated with wisdom.
A motif that runs through this section is that of begetting and fertility. From Canto X:
So brilliant the fourth family of the highest Father,
who forever gives it satisfaction, shone,
revealing how He breathes and how begets. (l.49-51)
The “fourth family” refers to the fourth sphere, the sun, who the Father pleases by showing how the Holy Spirit (breathes) and how he creates. I also think there is a pun here on the Father’s direct and indirect creation. He breathes life in Adam (direct creation) but has created the means for populating the world, indirectly creating life through begetting. And when St. Thomas first speaks later in the canto, he refers to love as being “increased” and “multiplied in you” (l.84-85). “Multiplied” echoes Genesis command to go out and multiply.
We see the fertility imagery with the saints Francis and Dominic, each married to their Lady, and begetting virtue and faith in the Church. We see fertility of the garden—both Francis and Dominic are referred to as gardeners, growing fruit and crops for the sheep to fatten on.
Ingesting food to fatten is another motif that runs here. Francis, for instance, finds the Muslims (those under the Sultan) “unripe for conversion” while he returns “to reap the harvest of Italian fields” (XI.106). Dante even has Solomon speak in these cantos, echoing his Song of Solomon (XIV.37-60), which describes a physical love. All these motifs seem to coordinate together. Physical love leads to begetting, which is an indirect creation, which require proper ingesting of the harvest, both physical and spiritual, which require Francis and Dominic to lead them to heaven where eventually they will reunite with their flesh. And while on earth in their earthly flesh, they will need a wise ruler—Solomon being the wisest—to rule them so they don’t need to scatter like lost sheep. This is Dante (the author) painting a picture of Edenic ideal.
I loved the way the souls jump for joy at the thought of the return of the flesh.
As, impelled and drawn by heightened joy,
dancers in a round may raise their voices,
their pleasure showing in their movements,
so, at that eager and devout appeal,
the holy circles showed new joy in wheeling
as well as in their wondrous song. (XIV.19-24)
And then they go one to sing a song of praise to the Trinity. I think we today have become much more gnostic in that we emphasize the spirit over the flesh. Perhaps this is a reaction to the today’s secular emphasis on pleasure, but Christianity properly understood is a union of the flesh and spirit. This is why in these passages Dante alludes to the Annunciation, the moment Christ became man. And this is why Solomon is so important. He was the wisest ruler who guided fleshly beings, a ruler who properly combined the spiritual with the material.
That image of what souls will be like when their flesh returns is spectacular:
But like a coal that shoots out flame
and in its glowing center still outshines it
so that it does not lose its own appearance,
'just so this splendor that enfolds us now
will be surpassed in brightness by the flesh
that earth as yet still covers. (XIV.49-54)
The flesh will be like a piece of coal that is burning hot, the glow permeating the material. Wow!
At the end of Canto XIII, Thomas Aquinas in chastising rash judgement, recalls a ship.
and once I saw a ship, which had sailed straight
and swift upon the sea through all its voyage,
sinking at the end as it made its way to port. (136-138)
That’s an allusion to Ulysses who back in Inferno, recounts his final, disastrous journey where he sinks his ship and crew. Not only is Thomas contrasted against Ulysses but so is Solomon, who is prudent, not rash, and who governed well so that his people did not perish.
The closing image in Canto X of the heavens as a “glorious wheel in motion” fits the harmony of the universe and the creator, and fits the aesthetics of the entire Commedia. Dante compares it to a clock with cogs pulling wheels and driving others, “chiming its ting-ting with notes so sweet” (139-148). Hollander points out that this may be the first reference to a clock in all of literature.
I should point out the Cristo rhymes. In all of Inferno, the name of Christ is never spoken. I think he was referred to indirectly. The name of Christ comes up in Purgatorio, but never at the end of a line. If it comes up at the end of a line, it needs to be rhymed. Hollander points out that in a previous work Dante rhymed Cristo with tristo (distraught) and malo acquisto (ill-gotten gains) and in retrospect it left a bad taste in his mouth. But what then to rhyme Cristo with? Dante solves it here by rhyming Cristo only with itself.
'He was called Dominic, and I shall speak of him
as that laborer chosen by Christ
to help Him dress and keep His garden.
'He seemed indeed a messenger and intimate of Christ,
since the first affection manifest in him
was for the initial precept taught by Christ. (XII.71-75)
You can check the corresponding Italian. Dante does this four times in Paradiso: XIV.104-108, XIX.104-108, and XXXII.83-87.
Finally I should note that St. Thomas Aquinas’ complement is St. Bonaventure. St. Bonaventure is probably the Franciscan Order’s greatest intellectual saint and was a fellow teacher with Thomas at the University in Paris. He wrote a work called The Journey of the Mind into God. It’s supposed to be one of the great works of mysticism, and perhaps was the inspiration for the entire Commedia. As we see throughout the Divine Comedy, Dante (the character) is on a journey into God. It’s only 60-ish pages. We should read this in the book club one day.
I’m going to have to end it here. This is getting long. I didn’t even discuss the saints included in the two catalogues of saints. I said this was a rich section.
Mod
Also, for those that have read T.S. Eliot's The Four Quartets. He alludes to a dance several times and now I understand where he's getting it. He's alluding to Dante! It's taken me many years to make that connection.
Manny wrote: "Another thought. The dance imagery is part of the whirling motion of the heavens. If not one and the same, they are certainly related. Also, for those that have read T.S. Eliot's The Four Quartet..."
Good thinking Manny. "The Four Quartets" has been on top for me since I was introduced to it by a wise literature professor whom I like to call "mentor." I keep it close by always.
Thank you for making the connection to The Four Quartets, Manny. We’ve had Julian of Norwich and John of the Cross pointed out to us, but this is the first time I’ve seen mention of Dante.
Mod
I should also add Eliot had many allusions to Dante. Just as Dante considered Virgil his poetic father, Eliot probably would say Dante was his poetic father.
Canto X
At the sphere of the sun, the sphere of wisdom and learning, Dante (the author) provides a new introductory address to the reader, delineating a major segment in heaven’s divisions. He has the reader raise his eyes to the heavenly wheel of the stars that are in motion, all the handiwork of a loving God. Beatrice implores Dante (the character) to give thanks to He by His grace has allowed him here. Dante, humbled, stands in wonder of the rings of flashing lights blinding brightness. The lights are like dancing gems and one speaks out to him. The light introduces himself as the Dominican Thomas Aquinas, and he will satisfy Dante’s thirst for understanding the encircling garland of lights. In this garland there are twelve lights, each a spirit of a great and worthy theologian who brought wisdom with their learning. He introduces each: (1) Albert the Great, (2) himself, Thomas Aquinas, (3) Francis Gration, (4) Peter Lombard, (5) King Solomon, the most beautiful light of the group, (6) Dionysius the Areopagite, (7) Paulus Orosius, (8) Severnius Boethius, (9) Isadore of Seville, (10) the Venerable Bede, (11) Richard of St. Victor, (12) Siger of Brabant. As Thomas finishes speaking, Dante is overwhelmed with the beauty of the spinning wheel of stars and the celestial music that emanates.
Canto XI
Still at the sphere of the sun, each spirit returns to their place inside the spinning wreath. The same light who spoke before, Thomas Aquinas, speaks again. He reads Dante’s thoughts where two doubts have formulated from what Thomas said in his catalogue of saints. The first doubt will get addressed here but the second will have to wait until Canto XIII. The first regards why God chose two guides to reinvigorate the Church and thereby “fatten” the sheep with grace. Thomas will here speak on one of those guides. He, the Dominican, chooses to speak of St. Francis of Assisi. He describes how Francis rose like the sun and went against his father’s wishes to devote himself to lady Poverty. Three seals were stamped on Francis. The first when he severed his materialistic relationship with his father; the second when Pope Honorius officially approved the Franciscan Order; and third when God graced Francis with the stigmata. It was St. Francis’ steadfast love and marriage to Lady Poverty and through the Franciscan Order’s devotion to her that strengthened not just the Order but all of Christendom. Thomas goes on to conclude that his own Dominicans have lost their mendicant spirit and so have strayed rather than fatten spiritually.
Canto XII
As Thomas stops speaking, a second wreath of lights joins the first, replicating the first in motion and song, circling around Dante and Beatrice. When the dance comes to an end, a voice speaks out from the new garland. He says that heavenly love compels him to speak of that second guide that reinvigorated the Church, since the two guides were really twin knights. He speaks of St. Dominic de Guzman, founder of the Order of Preachers, commonly known as the Dominicans, and as St. Francis was in love with Lady Poverty, St. Dominic was in love with Lady Faith. The voice tells of Dominic’s noble but humble upbringing and his founding of an order based on learning and preaching against heresies and bringing the world the light of truth through his learned followers. The voice concludes that Francis and Dominic were two wheels of a single chariot saving Christendom. He laments how now the Franciscan friars of the current day have weakened in observance to their rule. Finally the voice introduces himself as St. Bonaventure, the great Franciscan philosopher and mystic. He introduces the spirits that reside in the second wreath, a garland of souls who in life were mystics. Bonaventure is first followed by (2) Illuminato da Rieti, (3) Augustino, follower of St. Francis, (4) Hugh of St. Victor, (5) Petrus Comestor, (6) Petrus Hispanus, (7) Nathan the Old Testament prophet, (8) St. John Chrysotum, (9) St. Anselm, (10) Aelius Donatus, (11) Rabanus Maurus, (12) Joachim of Flora.
Canto XIII
Still at the sun, Dante (the author) asks the reader to reconfigure the two wreaths of twelve lights each into three constellations, the first of fifteen stars, the second of seven stars, and the third of two stars. The music emanating from the whirling group of stars is a song praising the Trinity. Then the song having ended, the voice of St. Thomas speaks again to answer Dante’s second doubt from back in Canto XI. The doubt pertains on why St. Thomas regarded Solomon as the wisest person to have ever lived. Thomas reads Dante’s mind and articulates what Dante is thinking. Adam was created directly by God and resided in heaven, and Jesus was God Himself, so shouldn’t they have been wiser than Solomon? Thomas agrees with both points and gives the theological foundations for them, but he goes on to clarify that Solomon was the wisest king to have ever lived. The reason for this was because Solomon asked God for it. He did not ask God for scholastic knowledge or philosophic knowledge or scientific knowledge or mathematical knowledge. He specifically asked for practical, real world wisdom to properly administer his kingdom. Thomas ends by cautioning Dante (the character) to not rush to judgement. There are many truths we cannot fully comprehend with the limited knowledge we have on hand, and only fools make final judgements in that way.
Canto XIV
As the voice of Thomas goes silent and Beatrice starts to speak, Dante (the character) envisions two ripples of voices crossing each other (could Dante have known about sound waves?), one emanating from Thomas, the other from Beatrice. Speaking to the garlands of light, Beatrice says to them that Dante will need to know what happens to the spirit’s light when the resurrection of the flesh occurs, and would the light shining from each soul damage the other’s sight. The dancing lights react with sudden joy at the questions and burst out into a hymn to the Trinity. The brightest of the lights, Solomon, speaks up in a humble voice to answer. He says that when we put on the flesh again, now glorified, the brightness of the lights will actually increase because our personhood would now be complete. The eyes of completed bodies will also have increased strength to accommodate the increased brightness. At this, the garlands of light all chanted “Amen” in an apparent desire to receive their bodies back. Then a third wreath of lights appears before them like the breath of the Holy Spirit, and in that increased glow Beatrice appeared more beautiful than ever. In the midst of this light, the pilgrims rise up to the next sphere, Mars, a planet glowing red for the warriors of Christ. Here the lights, unlike the wreaths in the previous sphere, are patterned in the shape of a cross.