The music of the souls that welcomed Dante and Beatrice to Mars stops, and from out of the great Cross of Spirits one light descends and greets Dante in the formal Latin of Virgil’s Aeneid with the words of Anchises when he sees his son, Aeneas, come to visit him in Elysium. Dante is both moved and stunned at such a greeting. As the spirit continues to speak, Dante’s ear becomes attuned to his words and he learns that this is his great-great-grandfather, Cacciaguida, who delights in telling Dante who he is. By way of revealing his identity, Cacciaguida tells Dante what old Florence was like and how peaceful and civil its citizens were. We also learn the origin of Dante’s surname.
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The goodness that always flows from true love (just as greed leads to iniquity) soon brought the glorious music of Mars to a close and quieted the sounding of those blessed strings tuned by Heaven itself. Never deaf to righteous prayers, those spirits who first encouraged me to pray now became quiet. It is right that those who love what does not last should mourn also the loss of the One Love forever.[1]First, we need to remind ourselves that we have arrived at the Sphere of Mars, the fifth and center of the nine spheres that make up the cosmos, and we begin here the first of the three center cantos … Continue reading
As when a bolt of lightning streaks down through the cloudless sky arousing the attention of someone not really looking carefully; and as if one star were to change places with another in a blaze of light – except no star is missing, just so from the right arm of that great cross before me, a star seemed to leave its place, speed toward the center, and then down to the foot, radiant like a fire behind alabaster. And if we believe Virgil, our greatest Muse, it was with similar affection that Anchises ran to meet his son Aeneas when he saw him in Elysium.[2]The basic image Dante wants to convey here is that one of the spirits/stars in the great Cross appears to fly across the horizontal plane from the right (Dante’s left) to the center, and then down … Continue reading
“O blood of mine! O grace of God poured over thee! For whom was ever twice, as for thee, heaven’s gate thrown open?”[3]In the original Italian here, Dante actually writes these words in Latin: “O sanguis meus; O superinfusa / gratia Deï, sicut tibi; cui / bis unquam celi ianüa reclusa?” The word “twice” … Continue reading With those words that resplendent soul spoke to me – and all I could do was to stare at him in wonder. Then I turned around and saw Beatrice’s face. There I stood between them in complete amazement, her smiling eyes inviting me to match them with my own as I looked upon my glory, my paradise.[4]Once again, Dante slowly builds the tension of this scene with just enough information to let the Reader know that this star-like spirit is a relative of his. Ever so slowly, the Poet reveals his … Continue reading
Then this bearer of such joyful affection continued to speak to me, but his words were so profound I could not as yet decipher them. He did not choose to obscure himself from me like this, there was simply no other way because his heavenly manner of speaking at this point rose far above my ability to grasp his meaning. But when the arrow of his love hit the target of my comprehension the first words I understood were those of a gracious prayer: “Holy Trinity of Persons in One God! How blessed are You to honor my descendant with such grace!”[5]These are fascinating lines because just a moment ago Dante was fully able to understand this soul’s Latin greeting. But now that the soul has lapsed into a less formal manner of speaking, Dante … Continue reading
And directing his happy words to me, he continued: “At last, after reading for so long in the great book of God’s Mind, whose writing will never be changed, you have rewarded my eager hope to see you, thanks to this lovely lady who enabled you to make this noble flight.[6]Now that both this soul and Dante are able to comprehend each other’s words, the Reader is also enabled to understand as well. “Finally,” the soul tells Dante, “after reading about you and … Continue reading And since you already know that in that Mind I can read your thoughts, you do not need to ask who I am or why I am happier to see you than anyone else here in this paradise. And that is right, because we in this realm – from the greatest to the least – always gaze at that Mirror where thoughts are reflected before they are even spoken. And yet, let that Love which prompts me to look forever upon the Godhead, and which creates in me a delightful thirst, be fulfilled for me by hearing you speak in your own voice. Express your heart’s desire in words that are bold and filled with joy. You know that in the Mind of God my answer already awaits your questions.”[7]Prepare for a few linguistic bumps here: This soul knows that Dante knows he (the soul) can read his (Dante’s) thoughts in the Mind of God before Dante even speaks. And having said this, the soul … Continue reading
Beatrice knew what I would ask when I turned to her, and her smile only strengthened my desire to speak. And so I began: “Love and intelligence became equally balanced in you when you came to this place and saw that One Who is the First Equality, because that Sun Who filled you with warmth and light is poised with such perfection that nothing else compares to It.[8]The souls in Heaven, with their entire beings, are subsumed into the Godhead (“the First Equality”). As with God, so with all the souls in Heaven, their various attributes (e.g., “love and … Continue reading But as you know, for mortals, speaking and feeling are not the same, and I feel the difference between them strongly. So it is from within my heart that I offer you my deepest thanks for your affectionate welcome. And it is also from my heart that I entreat you, O lovely topaz set within this sacred jewel, to satisfy my own eagerness to know your name.”[9]Dante realizes that he possesses both desire and intelligence, but they’re out of sync and cannot match the balance which the souls in Heaven enjoy. In other words, their desire to speak is matched … Continue reading
“You are a branch of my tree,” he began. “I was your root, and the expectation of your arrival here has filled me with untold delight. Your great-grandfather was my son. It was he after whom your family was named long ago, and his soul for more than a hundred years now still carries a weight on the first terrace of Purgatory. Pray for his soul that his sentence might be shortened.[10]We have known for a while that this soul is a relative of Dante. Now we learn that he is Dante’s great-great-grandfather. But we still don’t know his name. Nevertheless, we get fascinating pieces … Continue reading
“Old Florence, modest and sober, was once peacefully settled within her ancient walls where church bells still mark the times for prayer. Her women did not need jewels and fancy clothes to make them beautiful. A daughter’s birth did not anguish her father because the age for marriage was not low, nor was the dowry too high. Houses were of moderate size, not like those of eastern kings who gave themselves up to every pleasure. And your city, doomed to fall in its pride, had not yet surpassed Rome in vanity.[11]Here begin a series of reminiscences of the Old Florence by Dante’s great-great-grandfather who died about 150 years before the date of the Commedia, 1300. Humorously, we might say he’s looking … Continue reading
“I used to see Bellincion Berti wearing a simple belt of leather and bone, and his wife did not use make-up. It was the same with the de ‘Nerli and the del Vecchio – they dressed simply, and their wives spent the day at the spinning wheel and the loom.[12]These are the only “old” and noble family names that Dante’s relative will mention as he continues his reminiscences of Old Florence. They’re intended to stand out as exemplars of great civic … Continue reading Happy wives! They knew their graves would be next to their spouses, and their beds would not be abandoned by husbands gone off to France to make their fortunes. Good mothers, they tended to their children with love and care. Surrounded by their children, they would tell them stories about the ancient times – of Troy, Rome, and Fiesole. Corrupt citizens like a present-day Lapo Salterello or a Cianghella would have scandalized them back then as much as the famed Cincinnatus or the honorable Cornelia would shame them today.[13]Not only were the men of Old Florence known for their uprightness, but their wives, too, added honor to their homes as good mothers who taught their children the example of classical figures from the … Continue reading
“And so, to this wholesome community – faithful, civil, and sweet – the Virgin Mary gave me, as my mother called to her in the pangs of childbirth. Within your ancient Baptistery I became a Christian in faith and Cacciaguida by name. My brothers were Eliseo and Moronto, and my wife, born in the valley of the Po, brought with her your surname – Alighieri.[14]After 135 lines in the Italian, Dante finally reveals the name of his great-great-grandfather. This is the longest self-narrative in the Paradiso. And after highlighting the honorable women of Old … Continue reading
“Later, while in the service of the Emperor Conrad, and moved by my gallant deeds, he made me one of his knights. Proudly, I battled at his side against those of the false faith who occupied the Holy Land because your popes cared little for it. In the end, at the hands of the infidel I was delivered up from the cares of this world which corrupt so many. As a martyr, then, I came to this place of peace.”[15]The Emperor here would have been Conrad III of Swabia, who reigned from 1137-1152, and Cacciaguida would have joined the Second Crusade in 1147, which ended in disaster (including Cacciaguida’s … Continue reading
Notes & Commentary
| ↑1 | First, we need to remind ourselves that we have arrived at the Sphere of Mars, the fifth and center of the nine spheres that make up the cosmos, and we begin here the first of the three center cantos of the Paradiso. This image of centrality will help us understand the importance Dante places on his experience here. Next, we need to recall the great red, glittering Cross of Spirits that Dante and Beatrice are seeing here when they arrive at Mars. We learned that this is a structure of near-galactic proportions that calls forth an exclamation of praise from the Poet so highly charged that it contains nine words, each used only once in the entire Comedy! This, then, leads to a momentary vision of Christ on that Cross. Finally, Dante hears music coming from this great Cross, a great anthem, with words like “Arise” and “Conquer,” sung by the countless spirits within it. Awestruck, he tells us: “Hearing this divine music, my soul was overcome by an ecstacy of love I had never experienced.” And just before the previous canto ended, the bedazzled Pilgrim was reminded of another stunning beauty he almost “forgot” – Beatrice beside him, with her eyes like “beauteous emeralds.” Moved by the deep love he can feel coming from the great Cross, Dante suggests that the Cross itself is like a great stringed instrument made of souls and played by the hand of God. But now the music from this collective of souls begins to fade and the love in their silence engenders within the Poet a spirit of prayer, and anticipation. Conscious of the privilege of this moment, he is saddened in knowing that some choose the things that do not last (the Inferno is filled with them) and will never experience the everlasting joys of Heaven. |
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| ↑2 | The basic image Dante wants to convey here is that one of the spirits/stars in the great Cross appears to fly across the horizontal plane from the right (Dante’s left) to the center, and then down to the foot. The experience he wants to recreate is a fairly common one: as though an observer of the night sky isn’t purposely looking for falling stars, but just happens to see one. And he adds another qualifier (which he then dismisses immediately): it’s as though one star changed places with another – except it didn’t. Returning to that moving star, then, he compares the sight of it to a glowing flame moving behind an alabaster window, giving off a kind of reddish-gold color. With Dante standing at the foot of this great Cross, the moving soul seems to stop in front of him, but still within it. The joy of this mysterious spirit is fully apparent to Dante who, some might say, recklessly, invokes the central scene in Virgil’s Aeneid (VI, 684-689) where Aeneas finally meets his father Anchises in Elysium: “When he saw Aeneas coming toward him through the grass, he stretched out both palms to his son, and with cheeks streaked with tears his voice broke from his mouth: ‘You have come at last, and the faith I knew in you has overcome the hard road you have traveled to find me’.” This is another of those ecstatic moments we’ve witnessed in such close succession. The sight of the great Cross, the vision of Christ, the heavenly music, the increasing beauty of Beatrice, the affectionate appearance of this mysterious spirit – how can Dante not remember his “greatest Muse?” No doubt, one of the heart-wrenching moments in the Poem is in Canto 30 (ll. 49ff) of the Purgatorio when, at the moment of Beatrice’s appearance, Virgil disappears. But here, Dante brings him back to mind by recounting this significant moment in the Aeneid in order to highlight what is about to take place with him in yet another ecstatic scene. He’s recreating a scene of reunion on a heavenly scale. Here, Dorothy Sayers offers us some important connections in this commentary: “The reference to Anchises prepares the reader’s mind (1) for the relationship between this [new] soul and Dante, and (2) for the [upcoming] revelation to Dante of his calling in a mighty cause. As Aeneas was called to extend the empire of Rome to the world and her genius to Heaven, so Dante is called to re-establish Rome in men’s eyes as the civilizer of the world and the center of man’s divinely ordained destiny.” |
| ↑3 | In the original Italian here, Dante actually writes these words in Latin: “O sanguis meus; O superinfusa / gratia Deï, sicut tibi; cui / bis unquam celi ianüa reclusa?” The word “twice” refers first to this present journey of the Poet through Paradise, and second, because this spirit can see it in the mind of God, to the Poet’s return at his death. The only other person Dante would have known of who shared this same privilege was already there the second time – St. Paul, who, in 2 Corinthians 12, talks about the experience. Our Poet keeps good company! Additionally, this is the only tercet in the Poem written entirely in Latin, and without upsetting the rhyme scheme. This momentary interruption calls us to attention and heightens the formality and dignity of the greeting. Again, by doing this, Dante highlights the importance he wants to attach to what is, and will be, taking place. |
| ↑4 | Once again, Dante slowly builds the tension of this scene with just enough information to let the Reader know that this star-like spirit is a relative of his. Ever so slowly, the Poet reveals his identity during the rest of this canto. In the mean time, hearing himself referred to as “my own blood,” he is astounded, and this time he remembers to look at Beatrice. Enjoying the awe-filled pleasure he feels, her aspect becomes all the more radiant as he reads in her face an affirmation of the salvific prophecy the mysterious relative has just made: he sees himself here – the next time, in glory, in Heaven! |
| ↑5 | These are fascinating lines because just a moment ago Dante was fully able to understand this soul’s Latin greeting. But now that the soul has lapsed into a less formal manner of speaking, Dante cannot understand him. This is all very clever, because the soul, who has been immersed in Heaven and the Godhead, drops out of the formal Latin greeting and just naturally starts speaking in the dialect of God – the patois of Paradise. Dante hears the words, but realizes that they are far beyond his comprehension. But all of this changes when his deeper intuition reveals to him that the soul is also speaking in the dialect of love. The soul adjusts his vocabulary downward, as it were, and Dante’s comprehension is adjusted upward. Immediately, the words make sense, and he realizes this loving soul is addressing a prayer of praise and thanksgiving to the Trinity – about him. Recall that in the previous canto, I pointed out that several of the hapaxes Dante used there had liturgical connotations. Here we see them carry over into this brief prayer that, in a beautiful way, brings this wonderful ritual of reunion to a close. |
| ↑6 | Now that both this soul and Dante are able to comprehend each other’s words, the Reader is also enabled to understand as well. “Finally,” the soul tells Dante, “after reading about you and your coming here in God’s Mind, the moment has arrived and you are really here.” It’s as though this soul has long been thirsting for the future to be fulfilled, and now, through the agency of Beatrice, that future has become the present. Dante’s physical presence is the reward of this soul’s fervent hope. And made all the more pleasurable because it slowly becomes clear that the the speaker and Dante are physically related. This familial happiness also draws forward two passages from the previous canto: “I have to tell you that those who lament that we must die in order to live forever in Heaven have no idea of what it is like to experience the everlasting outpouring of God’s grace up here!” And: “It was obvious from their quick and joyous “Amen!” that both groups of souls within those crowns longed to have their bodies back; and not only for themselves, but for their families and all they held dear before they died.” The Mind of God and the Book of God’s Mind are images that Dante has and continues to use. We’re reminded again here that, central to the Saints’ enjoyment of Paradise is this “perk,” as it were – to see God in the face and to read past, present, and future in His Mind. Thus, as we’ve seen earlier, the souls Dante encounters know what he’s thinking because his thoughts are already there in the Mind of God. |
| ↑7 | Prepare for a few linguistic bumps here: This soul knows that Dante knows he (the soul) can read his (Dante’s) thoughts in the Mind of God before Dante even speaks. And having said this, the soul could just as well tell Dante, “There’s no need to put your thoughts into words since I already know what you’re going to ask.” Thus, Dante could keep silent and the soul could simply respond in words to his thoughts. But here, again, Dante is very clever. He’s not going to leave one voice silent while the other speaks. We’re going to hear both sides of the conversation for ourselves. And so he tells Dante to speak his thoughts out loud because, as it were, he’s thirsty to hear his voice. Love has done this. |
| ↑8 | The souls in Heaven, with their entire beings, are subsumed into the Godhead (“the First Equality”). As with God, so with all the souls in Heaven, their various attributes (e.g., “love and intelligence”) are equally balanced to match that First Equality. No one attribute is better than another or operates at a higher or lower level than others. |
| ↑9 | Dante realizes that he possesses both desire and intelligence, but they’re out of sync and cannot match the balance which the souls in Heaven enjoy. In other words, their desire to speak is matched by the intelligence to fully articulate what they wish to say. Such is not the same for mortals and for the Poet himself – which is saying a great deal, considering his goal in writing this poem, and the distance he’s traveled in making it a reality. Realizing this, he takes a different road to accomplish his desires: he speaks from the heart. He wishes to thank the soul for its affectionate welcome. And, likening the soul to a precious gem, he finally asks the question we’ve all been waiting for: “What is your name?” But what we need to appreciate at this point is Dante’s humility in speaking to the souls in Heaven. They are completely subsumed into God and, in this place apart from time and space, they enjoy the eternal “now” of blessedness. Speaking with them is definitely not like speaking with another human being. So, while he manages quite well, he must always be realizing that he is far out of his element. Let me add a comment about the topaz. As we know, it’s a precious yellowish gemstone, sometimes known as a yellow sapphire. Charles Singleton adds that: “…it is sometimes made red by heating, and red is the color of love and would be most appropriate here, since we are everywhere told that the souls appear as flames.” Moreover, Mars is the “red” planet. |
| ↑10 | We have known for a while that this soul is a relative of Dante. Now we learn that he is Dante’s great-great-grandfather. But we still don’t know his name. Nevertheless, we get fascinating pieces of family information as this encounter continues. For example, it is not this soul from whom the family name of Alighieri comes. It comes from his son. This son took the name Alighiero which came from the family name of this soul’s mother. (Confused? Try this: Nameless as yet –> Alighieri (in Purgatory) –> Bellincione –> Alighiero –> Dante.) And Alighieri’s son, Dante’s grandfather, was known as Bellincione degli Alighieri. Furthermore, we know from documentary evidence that Alighieri was alive in 1201. Recalling that the year of the Poem is always 1300, Dante may have had faulty information about the date of Alighieri’s death since he has his great-great-grandfather tell him that his son has spent more than one hundred years in Purgatory purging his pridefulness. As we recall from our reading of the Purgatorio, prayers from the living can expedite the release of souls there, and so Dante’s prayers, coming from a living person, will be helpful to that suffering relative. Note, by the way, that Dante has relatives in all three levels of the afterlife: Geri del Bello, a cousin in the Inferno (29), an unnamed great-grandfather in the Purgatorio (note that he was not identified by Dante when he was there), and his great-great-grandfather here in Paradiso, whose name will learn eventually. |
| ↑11 | Here begin a series of reminiscences of the Old Florence by Dante’s great-great-grandfather who died about 150 years before the date of the Commedia, 1300. Humorously, we might say he’s looking back at the “good old days,” when Florence was much less wicked than it has often been portrayed here in the Commedia of 1300. While he may have an objective view of the past since he sees it in the Mind of God, we can’t help but read his account as Dante the Poet might have viewed it, that of a person who looks back rather harshly on the city that passed him by. Nevertheless, we must take his views as honestly as he presents them, while at the same time appreciating the social history he gives us in the meantime. Unlike the Florence of Dante’s time, the old Florence was a peaceful place. There were no factions, no plots, no conspiracies between warring parties to disrupt the common good. The city walls referred to were an extension of the original walls, which dated to around 1078. These were extended again in 1284 when Dante would have been 19 years old. The bells refer to the church of the Badia, originally built in 978. In Dante’s time, it was a monastery of the Order of St. Benedict and stood near the city walls. The women of Old Florence were dressed modestly, he tells Dante, and the birth of a daughter did not foretell economic ruin because of a future dowry. This is a wonderful contrast to what Dante’s friend, Forese Donati, tells him of more recent times in Florence: “I see a future time–it won’t be long– / in which bans from the pulpit shall clamp down / on those ladies of Florence who, bold-faced, / now walk our city streets as they parade / their bosom to the tits!” (Musa, Purg. 23:98ff) In Dante’s time, houses (more like palaces) were built to show off a family’s wealth, whereas in Old Florence they were modest and practical. Here, again, Dante’s relative makes a slam against modern rich Florentines (in Dante’s day) who seem to have adopted the sumptuous and lazy life of ancient Near Eastern potentates. In the Italian, he names Sardanapalus as an example. Toynbee, in his Dante Dictionary paints a lurid picture of him: “Sardanapalus was the last legendary king of the Assyrian empire of Ninus, noted for his luxury, licentiousness, and effeminacy. He spent his days in his palace, unseen by any of his subjects, dressed in female apparel, and surrounded by concubines. The satrap of Media [northwestern Iran], having determined to renounce allegiance to such a worthless monarch, rebelled against him, and for two years besieged him in Nineveh, until Sardanapalus, unable to hold out any longer, collected all his treasures, wives, and concubines, and placed them on an immense funeral pile, to which he set fire destroying himself at the same time.” Finally, keeping in mind that Dante’s relative can see the future in the Mind of God, he remarks that Florence, in Dante’s time, has already surpassed Rome in pride and ostentation. |
| ↑12 | These are the only “old” and noble family names that Dante’s relative will mention as he continues his reminiscences of Old Florence. They’re intended to stand out as exemplars of great civic and moral virtue, living in peace and without pretension …“back in the day.” |
| ↑13 | Not only were the men of Old Florence known for their uprightness, but their wives, too, added honor to their homes as good mothers who taught their children the example of classical figures from the past. In the old days, there were no wars that robbed households of a father and returned him dead. This noble order of things is contrasted with the mention of Dante’s contemporaries, Lapo Salterello and Cianghella. Lapo was a corrupt lawyer known for his extravagance and the taking of bribes. As a matter of fact, he and Dante were of the same political party, and he was banished from Florence in the same edict that sent Dante into exile for the rest of his life. Cianghella was a scandalous woman known for her arrogance and licentious way of living. In his commentary about her, Charles Singleton includes the tabloid-like remarks of Benvenuto da Imola, one of Dante’s earliest commentators: “She is said to have been the daughter of Arrigo della Tosa and to have died ca. 1330. The early commentators say Cianghella was notorious for her arrogance, extravagance, and profligacy. Benvenuto states that she married a certain Lito degli Alidosi of lmola, a native of his own city, after whose death she returned to Florence and led a disreputable life. He says he had heard many stories of her from a neighbor of hers in lmola. One of these he records as a specimen, to the effect that on a certain occasion when she had gone to church to hear a sermon she was so infuriated because none of the ladies present rose to make room for her that she violently assaulted several of them; her blows being returned, a free fight ensued, greatly to the amusement of the male members of the congregation who could not restrain their laughter in which the preacher himself joined and thus the sermon was brought to an end. She appears also to have been in the habit of beating her servants with a stick.” Politely, neither Dante nor his relative give us these kinds of details about them except to say that they would have scandalized the citizens of Old Florence, and been shamed by the honorable lives of famous noble Romans like Cincinnatus and Cornelia. Cornelia was the wife of Scipio Africanus the elder and mother of the famous Grachi. Cincinnatus, after many years of service to Rome, retired to his farm. Later, however, when Rome was in danger of defeat by her enemies, he was called back and given almost absolute control of the state. In two weeks, Rome’s enemies were defeated and he relinquished all his powers and returned to the simple life of farming. |
| ↑14 | After 135 lines in the Italian, Dante finally reveals the name of his great-great-grandfather. This is the longest self-narrative in the Paradiso. And after highlighting the honorable women of Old Florence – “faithful, civil, and sweet,” Cacciaguida honors Mary, the mother of Jesus, for safely delivering him into the arms of his own mother. At his baptism he was christened Cacciaguida, and while he names his two brothers, we know absolutely nothing else about them. Most importantly, perhaps, is that Dante’s surname comes from his great-great-grandmother. |
| ↑15 | The Emperor here would have been Conrad III of Swabia, who reigned from 1137-1152, and Cacciaguida would have joined the Second Crusade in 1147, which ended in disaster (including Cacciaguida’s death). By virtue of Cacciaguida’s knighthood conferred by the Emperor, Dante’s family could claim nobility. Recall that Dante himself apparently rode with the knights at the Battle of Campaldino in 1289 (See Inf. 22:4f). Cacciaguida is proud to have fought against the Muslims who held Jerusalem for so long, and eventually killed (martyred) him. And he blames bad Popes for their lack of interest in rooting out the infidels. Crusaders who died in battle defending the faith were considered martyrs, baptized in their blood. All martyrs are rewarded with Heaven immediately upon their deaths, as Cacciaguida notes of himself. As a matter of fact, Islamic belief also has it that true believers who die in battle gain heavenly bliss immediately. When we finally learn who Cacciaguida is and how he was knighted by the Emperor and died in the Second Crusade, the connection made between Aeneas and Dante earlier in this canto begins to make sense. Both of them came from noble bloodlines and both had/have far, far-reaching destinies. |