Dante opens this Canto by inviting the reader to join him admiring the beauty of the heavens and to praise the artistry of the eternal Creator. At the same time, telling the reader to enjoy the “banquet,” Dante says that he must focus all his attention on writing. Soon enough he and Beatrice are in the sphere of the Sun and he is dazzled by light brighter than anyone has ever seen. Flashes of light now appear above Dante and Beatrice and form themselves into a slowly rotating crown. Longing to know who these souls are, a voice identifying itself as Thomas Aquinas, speaks and introduces the eleven other lights who form the crown of light – all wise and learned scholars of theology and philosophy.
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The Creator – uncreated, first, and beyond expression – looking at his Son with that infinite Love each breathes forth eternally, this Creator has brought into existence all things – and in such beauteous perfection that no one who sees it cannot but feel His very Presence.[1]This canto moves us from the Sphere of Venus to that of the Sun, and it marks a new section of the Paradiso. This and the following spheres are now beyond the shadow of the Earth. Dante begins with a … Continue reading Now, Reader, join me in looking up to the celestial spheres and fix your sight on that place where the moving planets and the sun cross each other’s paths.[2]Dante loves astronomy, and this is one more of many cosmic deviations throughout the poem. Note first how he asks the reader to join him, not only in reading his words, but actually seeing what he is … Continue reading From there enjoy all the works of the Eternal Artist who loves each of His works so much that He gazes upon them perpetually.[3]Not only have we been asked to join Dante in his observations of this cosmic spectacle, we also asked to join God, who not only calls the cosmos and all of creation into existence as His work of art, … Continue reading Think also about how the orbit of the planets moves slightly from side to side giving us the seasons. If this were not the case, all the powers of these spheres would be frustrated along with all the workings of Nature. And more than this: if this slant were greater or less than what it is, disorder would reign in both hemispheres of our Earth.[4]As he marvels at the grand spectacle before him, Dante urges us to take seriously, as an outright miracle, what we generally take for granted: the tilt of the earth. If there were no tilt, there … Continue reading
But, Reader, consider what you have only tasted up to this point. I have supplied the food, and if you wish to continue at my banquet, do not leave the table yet. Begin to eat because I must now concentrate fully on my theme.[5]All along, in this introduction to Canto 10, Dante has created a visual “banquet” of the cosmos as though each sight he calls to our attention is a different kind of food. Now, in a wonderfully … Continue reading Nature’s greatest minister,[6]The Sun, which provides light, warmth, growth, and the measurement of time. whose light measures out our days and marks our world with Heaven’s plan, was now at that crossing point I noted earlier, moving according to its design and showing us more of itself each day.[7]The Sun is at the point of the vernal equinox, dividing March 21st into equal parts of light and darkness. The days will get progressively longer until June 21st, the calendar’s longest period of … Continue reading And faster than a thought comes to mind, there I was within it; Beatrice, guiding our ascent from place to place instantly.[8]Here, Dante’s introduction to Canto 10 comes to an end as he and Beatrice move instantaneously from the Sphere of Venus into the Sphere of the Sun.
What shone there within the sun was the very essence of brilliance, the light of light, and even if I possesed the art and skill to do so, I could never make what I saw come alive before you. You must simply trust me and let your longing take you there. But do not be surprised if even your imagination fails you here. Believe me when I tell you that no eye has ever seen light brighter than the sun. And here within this place resides God’s fourth family whom He fills with joy as He reveals his ways to them.[9]Even a cursory knowledge of simple astronomy would have told Dante’s readers (then and now) how impossible was his claim to be in the sun. But it is this impossibility that the Poet uses to make … Continue reading
“Give thanks now,” said Beatrice. “Give thanks to that Sun of the Angels whose grace brings you here and whose light enables you to sense Him more deeply.” Hearing her words, no one was ever more quickly moved to devotion and to yield so quickly and fully to God than I was then.[10]This is the first we have heard from Beatrice in a while. Already beyond awe at what he is experiencing, Dante is readily moved to devotion as she (often symbolizing truth and revelation) urges him … Continue reading I was so completely absorbed in His love that Beatrice was simply eclipsed. But knowing the fervent disposition of my brimming heart, she smiled so happily that the beauty of her laughing eyes returned me to my senses.[11]Dante is so overcome by his initial experience of the Sun, and so drawn into a deeper experience of God, that (cleverly) Beatrice is completely “eclipsed.” More astronomy: Eclipses get their name … Continue reading
Soon I was aware of flashes of living light who surrounded us above like a glowing crown. Their voices were even more beautiful than their bright faces. I was reminded of the halo that sometimes surrounds the moon like a belt on nights when the air is moist. Among the souls in the court Heaven from where I have returned, there are some precious gems that are too highly treasured to be brought back from that kingdom. One of those gems was the song those luminous souls sang. I tell you, those without wings to fly up there are like those who wait to hear news from messengers without tongues.[12]The spirits in the sun (God’s fourth family) appear to Dante as flashes of light forming a halo-like crown above him and Beatrice. He probably has in mind a large circular chandelier holding great … Continue reading
When those glorious suns, aflame with their songs, had circled Beatrice and I three times like stars circling the pole star, they came to a stop like ladies in a dance who pause to listen for the new rhythm before they begin again.[13]Each of the spirits circling above Dante and Beatrice are likened to suns, their songs likened to flames. Circling three times, a reference to the Trinity, they stop. Here Dante is reminded of a … Continue reading Then a voice came out of that crown of lights: “Since the ray of grace – which kindles love and grows in love the more it loves – shines so beautifully in you that it enables you to climb these stairs, which no one goes down except to climb up again, we cannot withhold from your thirsty soul the wine you seek any more than a stream could refuse to flow down to the sea.[14]The spirits in the crown of light, having stopped after making their third circle above Dante and Beatrice, the spokesman for the rest of them, the famed medieval theologian, St. Thomas Aquinas, … Continue reading
“You wish to know what gems make up this crown of light that circles above the lovely lady there who brings you up to our Heaven. I was among that holy flock of lambs led by Saint Dominic along the road where they might fatten – if they do not stray. Close by me here to the right is Albert of Cologne, my confrere and my teacher. I am Thomas of Aquino. If you wish to know the rest of my companions here, let your eyes follow my words as I lead you around this blessèd wreath of souls.[15]We now meet the wise teachers of theology, about whom we read in the Book of Daniel (12:3):“Those who have taught will shine like the brightness of the firmament, and those who instruct many … Continue reading
“Following Albert to my right is Gratian’s flame. Having shown the harmony of Church and civil laws, Heaven now enjoys his presence here.[16]Gratian (Francesco Graziano, 1090-1159) was a twelfth century monk, theologian, and jurist, known as the Father of Canon Law (laws of the Church). Aquinas notes here that he collected and harmonized … Continue reading The next spirit who lights our choir is Peter the Lombard who imitated the poor widow in the Gospel by calling his writings a modest gift to the Church.[17]The fourth spirit in the crown of lights is Peter Lombard (1100-1160). He was born in Novara (about 30 miles west of Milan). He became a major scholar and teacher at the cathedral school of Notre … Continue reading The fifth light – the most beautiful among us – is Solomon, who breathes with such passionate love that men still long to know his eternal fate. Within that flame is such a lofty mind, that in all truth there has never been another one with such wisdom as his.[18]King Solomon, who succeeded David on the throne of Israel, was reputed to be the wisest of men. He is also reputed to be the author of the Song of Songs (sometimes called the Song of Solomon) in the … Continue reading
“Close by him is Dionysius the Areopagite, that burning candle who, when he was alive, plumbed the depths of the angels’ nature.[19]The sixth light Thomas Aquinas points to is that of St. Dionysius the Areopagite, whose significance I already touched on in my notes on Canto 9. But there are some complications with Dionysiuis … Continue reading Following him in that smaller light is Paul the disciple of Augustine and defender of the early Christian era.[20]After Dionysius Aquinas points to another nameless soul (in Dante’s text) whom most commentators identify as the fifth century Spanish priest/historian Paulus Orosius (390-420) because of his … Continue reading And if you have been following behind my words of praise, then you will want to know who our eighth light is. Boetheus is he, enfolded by the vision of Goodness. He showed those who read his work carefully how the world is filled with deceit. Unjustly put to death, he rests in the church of St. Peter with the gold ceiling. From his earthly exile he comes to us as a shining martyr.[21]The writings of Anicius Manlius Severinus Boethius (470-524) had a tremendous influence on Dante. He translated into Latin, and commented on, many of the great ancient Greek philosophical works which … Continue reading
“The next lights are the fervent souls of Isidore of Seville, Bede the English monk, and Richard of St. Victor whose joy in contemplation lifted him to mystical heights more than other men. And this last light which shines close to my left is the flame of Siger of Brabant. Grave in his questions, he longed for their answers in Heaven. A famed teacher on the Street of Straw, he demonstrated many envious truths.”[22]St. Isidore of Seville (560-636) was the Archbishop of that city and, like Thomas Aquinas and Albert the Great has been named a Doctor of the Church. He is known for his massive (20-volume) … Continue reading
At that point, like a clock tower calling the Church’s faithful to gather and sing their morning prayers to the Son of God, wheels turning this way and that, chiming out ting-ting so sweetly that souls in harmony swell with love: thus did I witness that glorious crown turn with eternal joy.[23]Dante becomes quite imaginative here. The crown of light has obviously begun to rotate like a wheel, and this reminds him of a great clock chiming in a church tower, calling the faithful to prayer. … Continue reading
Notes & Commentary
| ↑1 | This canto moves us from the Sphere of Venus to that of the Sun, and it marks a new section of the Paradiso. This and the following spheres are now beyond the shadow of the Earth. Dante begins with a hymn of praise to the Trinity and the relations between Father, Son, and Spirit in union with all created things which manifest their Presence. The sun as a symbol of wisdom, light and intellect is, of course, also a symbol of God. |
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| ↑2 | Dante loves astronomy, and this is one more of many cosmic deviations throughout the poem. Note first how he asks the reader to join him, not only in reading his words, but actually seeing what he is seeing. As the earth orbits around the sun, the imaginary circle of that orbit is called the ecliptic. The twelve constellations of the zodiac are evenly spaced beyond (along) this circle of the ecliptic, and from the earth the sun is seen to pass through each of them. Another way to visualize this is to think of the earth’s equator and the celestial equator on the same plane, except that the celestial equator is projected far out into space. What Dante wants us to imagine is that moment when the orbit of the earth (the ecliptic), which is tilted 23.5̊, and the celestial equator intersect. This is the point of the vernal equinox (March 21, the first day of Spring) when the sun reaches the constellation of Aries. It’s opposite is the autumnal equinox on September 22, on the other side of the ecliptic. |
| ↑3 | Not only have we been asked to join Dante in his observations of this cosmic spectacle, we also asked to join God, who not only calls the cosmos and all of creation into existence as His work of art, but loves to look it. In his Letter to the Ephesians (2:10), St. Paul writes: “We are God’s handiwork.” |
| ↑4 | As he marvels at the grand spectacle before him, Dante urges us to take seriously, as an outright miracle, what we generally take for granted: the tilt of the earth. If there were no tilt, there would be no distinct seasons. Another example of God’s Provident love and care for us. |
| ↑5 | All along, in this introduction to Canto 10, Dante has created a visual “banquet” of the cosmos as though each sight he calls to our attention is a different kind of food. Now, in a wonderfully hospitable gesture, he invites us to help ourselves to the food, but to excuse him from the table because he has other work to do (in the “kitchen” preparing more “food” for us). At the same time, he wants us to remember that this celestial food is but a foretaste of what awaits all of us in Heaven. |
| ↑6 | The Sun, which provides light, warmth, growth, and the measurement of time. |
| ↑7 | The Sun is at the point of the vernal equinox, dividing March 21st into equal parts of light and darkness. The days will get progressively longer until June 21st, the calendar’s longest period of daylight. |
| ↑8 | Here, Dante’s introduction to Canto 10 comes to an end as he and Beatrice move instantaneously from the Sphere of Venus into the Sphere of the Sun. |
| ↑9 | Even a cursory knowledge of simple astronomy would have told Dante’s readers (then and now) how impossible was his claim to be in the sun. But it is this impossibility that the Poet uses to make his claim that what he writes is absolutely true. Furthermore, if we wish to taste (like food) this truth for ourselves, he continually invites us to join him, not just in the reading of his Poem, but in the seeing – and then believing – what he writes. It makes sense that sunlight is brightest at its source, and we have to believe that being in the sun, the intensity of that light would be beyond our power to comprehend. This is what Dante wants us to understand about what he was experiencing. It was the very essence of brilliance, the light of light. At the same time, he readily admits that his experience has defeated his ability to convey what he sees in writing. And given that he is in Heaven, the Reader will understand that this “defeat” will happen more than once. All of this said, as he asks us to make an act of faith in what he describes, he strengthens his kinship with the Reader by telling us that we, too, can expect to be just as defeated as he is. In this way see how he draws the Reader into the sun alongside him by leveling the playing field, as it were. And with this, we are ready to meet those spirits who have come down from the Empyrean to meet us here. Given that we are in the fourth sphere, Dante refers to them as God’s “fourth family.” |
| ↑10 | This is the first we have heard from Beatrice in a while. Already beyond awe at what he is experiencing, Dante is readily moved to devotion as she (often symbolizing truth and revelation) urges him to give thanks for being drawn even further into the fullness of God. In the Convivio (3:12), Dante wrote: “No object of sense in the whole world is more worthy to be made a type of God than the sun, which illumines first himself and then all other celestial and elemental bodies with sensible light. So God illumines with intellectual light first Himself and afterwards the dwellers in heaven and all other intellectual beings.” |
| ↑11 | Dante is so overcome by his initial experience of the Sun, and so drawn into a deeper experience of God, that (cleverly) Beatrice is completely “eclipsed.” More astronomy: Eclipses get their name from the ecliptic – the circle of the sun’s orbit. Twice a month, the orbit of the earth (with its moon, which also tilts) crosses the ecliptic. When that happens, there’s an eclipse. But this only happens when there’s a full moon or a new moon. Once again, Beatrice’s eyes and smile are highlighted to match the beauty of what Dante sees in the sun. Seeing her smile at him brings him back from his devotional reverie to the present moment (and the Poem which he’s writing). |
| ↑12 | The spirits in the sun (God’s fourth family) appear to Dante as flashes of light forming a halo-like crown above him and Beatrice. He probably has in mind a large circular chandelier holding great lighted candles. While he compares his experience of these shining spirits to highly treasured gems, he regrets that he cannot bring them back to earth with him. What he can say, at least, is that their voices were more beautiful than their faces. They sing, and their music was itself like a gem that lodged in his memory. The words, though, are inexpressible. One would simply be mute in the attempt to repeat them. |
| ↑13 | Each of the spirits circling above Dante and Beatrice are likened to suns, their songs likened to flames. Circling three times, a reference to the Trinity, they stop. Here Dante is reminded of a popular dance to a song in which everyone pauses after its refrain and then take up with the next verse. Charles Singleton, in his commentary, quotes a source explaining the particular song/dance Dante has in mind here. It’s called a ballata, in which the lady who leads the song recites the first stanza (the ripresa or ritornello), standing still; when she has done this, the entire group of women dancers, holding one another by the hand, moves in a round dance, repeating the stanza, and when finished, stops; then the lady who first began the song, again standing still, sings the next stanza, which ends rhyming with the first, whereupon the group again does a round dance, singing again the stanza called the ritornello. |
| ↑14 | The spirits in the crown of light, having stopped after making their third circle above Dante and Beatrice, the spokesman for the rest of them, the famed medieval theologian, St. Thomas Aquinas, addresses Dante in wonderfully gracious terms. He recognizes the unusual circumstances of God’s love that bring Dante here and assures him that he will be saved and return to Heaven when his life on earth is over. No one, he says, comes to this place and goes back down, except to come back up. Reading Dante’s mind, he tells him that they are as happy to converse as he is. Humorously, it seems, like Dante they cannot withhold themselves from talking. As the reader of this commentary will have noticed, I enjoy including here insights from other sources that I think will broaden the context of a particular spot in the text. I appreciate their ultra-careful attention to the text and context of the Poem which enriches it considerably. At this point in the text, then, knowing that the speaker is Thomas Aquinas, Robert Hollander offers a perhaps surprising comparison that moves us from this point in the Poem back to Canto 26 of the Inferno. He contrasts Aquinas’s humility with Ulysses pride. “Where Ulysses has epic pretensions in his self-narrative (see Inf. 26), Thomas, another kind of ‘hero,’ one who indeed vigorously pursued virtue and knowledge (and not merely in what we might regard as an advertisement for himself) is a foil to prideful Ulysses. The Greek adventurer’s pride is matched by Thomas’s humility (his name occurs only after he finishes the eighteen-line introductory portion of his speech and then only after he has named his teacher. Can anyone imagine Ulysses referring to someone who had been his teacher?) …. Thomas’s first self-description intrinsically suggests that he is dramatically different from Ulysses, who in his pursuit of knowledge had companions whom he treated as the mere instruments of his own adventure and whom he destroyed along with himself; Thomas, on the other hand, ‘…was a lamb among the holy flock / led by Dominic along the road / where sheep are fattened if they do not stray.’ … What Ulysses did, Thomas chose not to do.” |
| ↑15 | We now meet the wise teachers of theology, about whom we read in the Book of Daniel (12:3): “Those who have taught will shine like the brightness of the firmament, and those who instruct many towards justice, like the stars for eternity.” In spite of his fame for learning, note how St. Thomas Aquinas, the first speaker and spokesman for this sphere, humbly identifies St. Albert, his confrere and teacher, first. Both Saints Thomas and Albert were members of the Dominican Order, also known as the Order of Preachers, founded in Toulouse by St. Dominic Guzman (1170-1221) in the year 1215. Dante (through Aquinas) will come back to this issue of the “fattened lambs” in the next canto. |
| ↑16 | Gratian (Francesco Graziano, 1090-1159) was a twelfth century monk, theologian, and jurist, known as the Father of Canon Law (laws of the Church). Aquinas notes here that he collected and harmonized civil and ecclesiastical law – this would have been his major work, known as the Decretum Gratiani. |
| ↑17 | The fourth spirit in the crown of lights is Peter Lombard (1100-1160). He was born in Novara (about 30 miles west of Milan). He became a major scholar and teacher at the cathedral school of Notre Dame in Paris and was later named bishop of that city. His most famous work, known as the Sentences, written in 1150, became the standard textbook of theology for the next four hundred years. As a compilation of biblical studies, writings of the Church Fathers, doctrinal, and dogmatic texts, it was read, studied, and commented on by virtually every great theologian of the Middle Ages. In the Introduction to the Sentences, he offered this great work to the Church and compared it to the widow’s small coin in the Gospel of St. Luke (21:1-4). When Jesus was teaching in the Temple near the treasury, he called his listeners’ attention to the wealthy making their offerings and singled out a poor widow who had only a small coin to offer. He said: “I tell you truly, this poor widow put in more than all the rest; for those others have all made offerings from their surplus wealth, but she, from her poverty, has offered her whole livelihood.” |
| ↑18 | King Solomon, who succeeded David on the throne of Israel, was reputed to be the wisest of men. He is also reputed to be the author of the Song of Songs (sometimes called the Song of Solomon) in the Hebrew Bible, a lush, exotic, and sometimes erotic love poem about the union between God and Israel as a bridegroom and bride. New Testament interpreters see it as a love song between Christ (the bridegroom) and the Church (as his bride). The question about Solomon’s fate – that is, his eternal salvation – is an interesting one. In Dante’s time it had already been debated among theologians for centuries. If one were to read and take literally 1 Kings 11:1-9 (a long list of Solomon’s grave sins and failures to heed the word of the Lord), his presence here in Paradise as the most brilliant of the spirits in the Sphere of the Sun might be surprising. And yet, Dante has surprised us about the happy fate of notable sinners almost continually throughout the Purgatorio and several times already in the Paradiso. Obviously, Dante has made it clear that he is not the final judge, nor does he peer into hearts and souls where only God can see. And his example is worth following. One recalls here the words of the prophet Isaiah (55:8f) speaking for God: “My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways my ways. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, my thoughts higher than your thoughts.” At the same time, we read what God tells Solomon in the First Book of Kings (3:12): “I give you a heart so wise and discerning that there has never been anyone like you until now, nor after you will there be anyone to equal you.” This passage is obviously Dante’s source here. It is, perhaps, Robert Hollander who offers the best way forward here. In his commentary he notes: “The more one thinks of Dante’s Solomon, the more he becomes a likely choice as precursor of this poet (perhaps even in the light of his sexual trespass, something that he, his father (David), and Dante Alighieri, by his own confession in Purg. XXX and XXXI, have in common). They also share, as Dante might well have considered, authorship of works that seemingly celebrated carnal affection only, upon deeper consideration, to express love of a higher kind.” |
| ↑19 | The sixth light Thomas Aquinas points to is that of St. Dionysius the Areopagite, whose significance I already touched on in my notes on Canto 9. But there are some complications with Dionysiuis which, not to be overlooked, nevertheless add character to Dante’s work. Dionysius was a convert of St. Paul’s, and is mentioned in the Acts of the Apostles (17:22-34). In this account, St. Paul was preaching in Athens at a place called the Aeropagus, which may have been a meeting place of an official council or another such assembly of citizens. Dionysius and a few others were converted by Paul’s teaching. He was later made bishop of Athens and is considered the patron saint of city. At this point, however, errors creep in, and Dante makes one here. For centuries, this Dionysius was thought to be the author of the famous compendium De Caelesti Hierarchia on the nature and hierarchy of the angels. This work was popular in the Middle Ages, and Dante uses it in his Commedia. However, this text, ascribed to the Aeropagite, was actually a 5th or 6th century Neoplatonic work written in a much earlier style and attributed to Dionysius. Today, its author is known as Pseudo-Dionysius the Aeropagite. |
| ↑20 | After Dionysius Aquinas points to another nameless soul (in Dante’s text) whom most commentators identify as the fifth century Spanish priest/historian Paulus Orosius (390-420) because of his connection with St. Augustine (whom Dante does name). His great work, Historiarum adversos paganos (History against the pagans), was written at the suggestion of, and dedicated to, St. Augustine as a way of showing that the world was better off because of the spread of the Christian faith rather than worse. |
| ↑21 | The writings of Anicius Manlius Severinus Boethius (470-524) had a tremendous influence on Dante. He translated into Latin, and commented on, many of the great ancient Greek philosophical works which became an important scholarly resource throughout the Middle Ages. In 510 he became consul of Theodoric the Ostrogoth. Not unlike Pier delle Vigne in Canto 13 of the Inferno, Boethius became disillusioned with the corruption of the imperial court and was ultimately accused of treason by jealous courtiers. Theodoric had him imprisoned and tortured to death in Pavia (about 25 miles south of Milan). His greatest work, The Consolation of Philosophy, written in prison shortly before he died, was of enormous influence during the Middle Ages. Dorothy Sayers notes in her commentary: “In his work, Boethius represents philosophy as a gracious and beautiful woman with whom he holds converse and who speaks to him of the mutability of fortune and the insecurity of everything except virtue. Dante was very familiar with this work which, he says, together with Cicero’s De Amicitia, provided him with his greatest consolation after the death of Beatrice.” Boethius (also known as St. Severinus, and honored as a martyr) is buried in the crypt of the church of San Pietro in Ciel d’Oro (St. Peter with the Gold Ceiling). Incidentally, St. Augustine’s body was moved from North Africa, where he was originally buried, to this same church of San Pietro in Pavia in 720. |
| ↑22 | St. Isidore of Seville (560-636) was the Archbishop of that city and, like Thomas Aquinas and Albert the Great has been named a Doctor of the Church. He is known for his massive (20-volume) encyclopedia of medieval learning called the Etymologies, also a text used and referred to by Dante. St. Bede, commonly referred to as Bede the Venerable (672-735) was an English monk and scholar from Northumberland. He was the most prolific Anglo- Saxon writer, having produced a number of biblical commentaries and his great work, the Ecclesiastical History of England. He is called the Father of English History and is also a Doctor of the Church. Richard of St. Victor (d. 1173) was a Scottish mystical theologian and philosopher, named after the famous monastery of St. Victor in Paris where he was the Prior. A voluminous writer, his major texts (The Book of the Twelve Patriarchs and The Mystical Ark) are on the subject of contemplation. Among other major texts, he is also known for his treatise on the Trinity (De Trinitate). Siger of Brabant (1240-1284) was a contemporary of St. Thomas Aquinas at the University of Paris. Though he was a controversial scholar and some of his teachings were condemned as heretical, he always maintained his orthodoxy. He appealed to the Pope and, while not subjected to punishment, was kept under a kind of house arrest at the papal residence in Orvieto. There are two traditions about his death. One is that he was condemned and executed for political reasons at Orvieto. Another is that he was murdered by his secretary. Interestingly, Ronald Martinez notes in his commentary that Thomas Aquinas, who praises him here in the Sphere of the Sun, was, in fact, one of Siger’s principal opponents (both having caused quite a disruption in Paris). But in Heaven, mutual understanding is perfected. They stand next to each other. At the same time, Dorothy Sayers notes: “That St. Thomas should now say that Sigier taught ‘truths’, when in the first life he opposed him for propagating falsehoods, is paradoxical indeed. It is impossible that Dante should be making St Thomas eat his words as regards Averroism. The explanation probably lies in the plural use of truth. It is not ‘the truth’ which Sigier taught, but ‘truths’ as he saw them and deduced them according to logic. As such, they claimed his intellectual integrity, ‘that rare and radiant virtue, the scholar’s honor.’” The Averroism Sayers refers to is the philosophy of Averroes, the 12th century Muslim polymath who, among many other scholarly achievements, translated and wrote commentaries on the works of Aristotle, thus making him available (in many cases for the first time) to scholars across the Middle Ages. Siger interpreted Aristotle through the lens of Averroes and ran up against more conservative theologians and philosophers like Thomas Aquinas. Siger/Averroes proposed a kind of unity between faith and philosophy. Aquinas, on the other hand, saw philosophy as a kind of servant of faith. The particular dispute referenced here seems to center around the nature of the intellect, Siger/Averroes proposing a kind of universal intellect that everyone shares, and Aquinas proposing a personal/individual intellect. Both arguments naturally led to connections with the immortality of the soul and personal responsibility. One final possibility – this is quite a disputed passage among the commentators – comes from Ronald Hollander who cites Giampiero Tulone: “Tulone’s hypothesis is that Dante’s text refers to the envy of those who hypocritically oppose Siger’s sound doctrinal teaching by claiming it is other than Christian.” The Street of Straw is a reference to the location of the University of Paris (the Sorbonne) in its earliest days. Classes and lectures were often held outside, and students covered the damp grounds and streets with straw to keep themselves dry. The neighborhood, like so many university neighborhoods since then, was apparently more than wildly animated. Only a small portion of the Rue du Fouarre (Street of Straw) remains today. The rest of it is now……..Rue Dante! |
| ↑23 | Dante becomes quite imaginative here. The crown of light has obviously begun to rotate like a wheel, and this reminds him of a great clock chiming in a church tower, calling the faithful to prayer. The twelve spirits evenly spaced on this wheel recall a large clock face with the twelve numbers on it. But a number of questions arise here. What kind of a clock was this? Was it in a church tower? Where might Dante have seen it? It seems that large mechanical clocks in towers started to appear in the late 1200s. Dante would surely have seen and heard them. They were probably attached to monastic or convent churches not only to measure the time, but to call people to prayer or work. Most interesting: according to John A. Scott (Understanding Dante, 297), “This is the first literary reference to the mechanical clock, which was invented “sometime between 1277 and 1300.” The Poet’s use of “ting-ting” definitely doesn’t suggest a bell in a tower; nevertheless, it evokes, as he says, a sweetness, harmony, and love that he sees and experiences everywhere in Paradise. The sun, where he is right now, is the great clock – an almost eternal measure of time in the small and time in the great. |