Having arrived at the sphere of Venus, Dante and Beatrice are greeted by luminous souls who glow with joy at their arrival. One soul comes forth and urges Dante to ask questions. The soul responds to Dante’s query about his identity with a summary of his brief life. It is Charles Martel, with whom Dante had a brief acquaintance. Martel’s mention of his “stingy” brother, Robert, opens the way for Dante to ask how it is that bad offspring can come from noble parentage. Martel explains that the workings of God’s Providence are manifested in a great diversity and that there would be no variety among humans if children followed precisely in their parents’ footsteps. At the same time, he remarks sadly about the human propensity to subvert the operations of Fortune by pushing people to follow paths they’re not destined for.
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Long ago, the world believed erroneously that the beauteous Cyprian, spinning wildly within her third orbit, poured down rays of sensual love upon mankind. In their error, mortals not only offered sacrifices to honor her, but also her mother, Dione, and her son, Cupid, thought once to have been cuddled in her lap by Dido, queen of Carthage. The ancients took the name of this goddess, who provides a theme for my canto, and gave it to the planet Venus who affectionately courts the sun – both as the morning star at his brow and the evening star at his neck.[1]Dante will acknowledge in a moment that he and Beatrice have risen to the sphere of Venus. But first, as we see, he has much to tell us. The “beauteous Cyprian” is a reference to the goddess … Continue reading
Though I was not conscious of having risen to this lovely planet, I knew that I was within its sphere because my Beatrice was now all the more beautiful. There within the radiance of that magnificent sphere I saw countless lights moving – some slowly, others swiftly. Their motion, I supposed, was in accordance with how clearly they looked upon the Godhead.[2]One constant, as they move upward through the heavens, is that Beatrice becomes ever more beautiful until it will be almost impossible to look at her. The movement of the countless lights he sees … Continue reading
The fastest winds that ever rushed down from the cloudy heavens would have seemed like a breeze compared to the speed with which those holy lights flew to us as they left their glorious dance begun among the lofty Seraphim. I heard those spirits who approached us first singing “Hosanna” so magnificently that my soul still yearns to hear that music again.[3]Speed seems to be one of the themes of this canto. No sooner have Dante and Beatrice arrived than they are surrounded by dancing spirits who sing angelic music that resonates deep within the Poet’s … Continue reading One of those joyful spirits then approached my lady and I and announced: “All of us here are ready to bring you pleasure. Our joy is that you have the fullest joy of us! In one orbit do we circle, with one rhythm do we move, and with one desire do we unite ourselves with those Celestial Princes you once invoked in your canzone: ‘O you whose minds move Heaven’s third great sphere.’ So full of love are we that we will happily stop and spend time with you.”[4]Along with the Poet, the Reader here cannot help but be overwhelmed by the effusive outpouring of joy and love by the spirits within the realm of Venus. Such joy and love engenders a palpable union … Continue reading
Reverently I raised my eyes to look at the beauty of my lady’s light for assurance, and in her eyes I saw the joy of her approval. So I turned my gaze again to that glowing light of love who had invited me to question him: “O shining soul,” I said tenderly, “please tell me who you are?”[5]Seeing that the spirit has already offered to speak with Dante, note that he doesn’t have to tell Beatrice that he wants to ask this spirit. She has read his mind and her joyful glance is her … Continue reading
These few words caused that happy soul to glow with even greater brilliance as it replied with joy: “The happiness that blooms so within me hides me from you. Its radiance enfolds me like a creature wrapped in silk. My life on earth was rather brief. Had I lived longer, I might have prevented much evil. But your great love for me I, too, loved, and if I had not died when I did, you would have seen proof of my affection.[6]As we will learn, the spirit with whom Dante has been speaking is Charles Martel. But this is not the more famous Charles Martel, King of the Franks, who lived some 500 years earlier than this one, … Continue reading
“The lands of Provence, bounded by the waters of the Rhone and the Sorgue on the West, were waiting for me to rule, as was the kingdom of Naples. Already, I wore the crown of Hungary, and the future rulers of Sicily would have come through me and the line I inherited from my grandfather Charles I of Anjou and my father-in-law Rudolph of Hapsburg. But bad governance there by the French drove Palermo’s citizens to cry out: ‘Kill them! Kill them!’[7]Charles, who died at the age of 24, offers a short summary of his regal pedigree and the perhaps optimistic direction it would have taken had he lived. Technically, he was the King of Hungary in … Continue reading)
“If only my brother, Robert, had foreseen what is now history, in ruling Sicily wisely he would have dislodged those avaricious Catalonians who do him harm. Something must be done about this or more trouble will be added to those he must already bear. Had he allowed his stinginess to be overcome by his more generous roots, he would have appointed those who care more for their fellow men than for gold.”[8]Charles refers here to his younger brother, Robert of Anjou. In 1304 he followed Charles II as the ruler of Provence and the Kingdom of Naples. Because Robert had been a hostage in Spain, he brought … Continue reading
As he ended, I began: “I sense that the deep joy your words have given me is as clear to you as it is to me, and this joy is even deeper and more precious to me because I know that you see it as you behold it in the mind of God at this moment. So happy have you made me, I beg you to make me wise as well, because what you just said raises the question of how such a good father can produce bad offspring.”[9]The mutual affection between Dante and Charles becomes more pronounced here as the Poet sees its source in the beatific vision that Charles enjoys. In light of this deep affection, and what Charles … Continue reading)
And he replied: “Gladly will I make this plain to you so that what you cannot see behind you will soon appear before you clearly. The God Who both moves and orders this heavenly realm you now climb invests these great spheres with the power of His own goodness. In the infinite perfection of His mind He foresees every type of nature and its specific goal. And when the bow of His foresight bends, His arrow always hits its mark. If this weren’t the case, the beauteous kingdom you climb through would manifest itself to you in chaos, not as a work of the Divine Artist. Furthermore, the angelic intellects who guide these spheres would be as flawed as the One who first created them. Shall I make this truth even clearer to you?”[10]Happy to answer Dante’s question (that is, to bring what is behind him to the front so he can see it clearly), Charles first provides him with a picture of the cosmos perfectly created by God, with … Continue reading
“No, no,” I replied. “You have made it clear that Nature must follow the path God has set for it.”[11]In his commentary here, Mark Musa explains this more broadly:“The word ‘Nature’ as used here must be understood as including both God and the things God created. The idea is an Aristotelian … Continue reading
Then he asked me: “Do you think it would be worse for men on earth if there were no order in their society?” “Certainly,” I replied, “and I need no proof of this.”[12]The answer to this question is so obvious, one wonders why Charles asks it. Except that it leads to a further understanding of creation and the workings of Nature. Certainly it would be worse for us … Continue reading
“And could this be if men didn’t have different natures which lead them toward different ends? In no way, as your Aristotle writes.”[13]Again, Charles is leading Dante (or is it the other way around?). “Would it be worse,” he asks, “if there were no order in human society?” “Of course, it would be worse,” Dante replies. … Continue reading
Moving thus from point to point, he then concluded: “In the end, there is a great diversity at the heart of men’s activities. Thus, one is born a Solon, one a Xerxes, one a Melchizedek, and one a Daedalus whose son fell into the sea after his presumptuous flight. Nature, as you can see, puts her particular stamp on mortal wax with no concern for family lines. Esau differed greatly from his twin conceived in the same womb. Because he was a great man, people believed Romulus to be the son of Mars instead of a lowly mortal. If the diversity of God’s Providence were not at work in this case, mortals would have no individuality, merely following in the path of their parents.[14]Once again, affirming the great diversity in human society, Charles lists a few examples. Solon was a notable seventy-century BC Athenian lawgiver; Xerxes was a third-century BC Persian emperor; … Continue reading
“At last, you now see clearly what was behind you. So let me joyfully enwrap you in another thought. If one’s nature is not in accord with Fortune, it will fail as a seed will die in bad soil. If mortals paid greater attention to Nature’s foundation, and built on it firmly, they would be better people. As it is, you find yourselves on paths not meant for you, twisting one toward the priesthood whose destiny is to be a soldier, an another toward kingship whom Providence calls to preach.”[15]Earlier in this canto, as Charles Martel was summarizing his lineage, Dante raised the question how a good seed (a good parent) can produce sour fruit (evil offspring). Obviously, he had in mind that … Continue reading
Notes & Commentary
| ↑1 | Dante will acknowledge in a moment that he and Beatrice have risen to the sphere of Venus. But first, as we see, he has much to tell us. The “beauteous Cyprian” is a reference to the goddess Venus who was born/rose from the sea just off the coast of western Cyprus near Paphos. How this happened is as follows: The Titans, Uranus (sky) and Gaia (earth), had, among several offspring, a son named Cronos. Uranus hated his children and hid them within Gaia. She made a sickle and begged that one of her children use it to take vengeance on their father. Cronos agreed, castrated his father, Uranus, and flung his testicles into the sea. Foam rose up out of the sea where the bloody testicles fell, and out of it Venus arose fully formed. However, Greek and Roman mythology don’t assign her parentage precisely. Dante, following Roman mythology, tells us that her mother was Dione, and that she had a son, Cupid. (In Greek mythology, the same goddess is probably Aphrodite.) At some point, the ancients named this third planet Venus and, as Dante notes, they claimed the seemingly wild oscillations of the planet imparted a similar sensual/sexual wildness to humans. Once again, we encounter the idea that our actions are, in some way, determined or directed by the stars – an idea that Dante always rejects. From an astronomical view, however, he capitalizes on the planet’s connection with love and affection as he relates the positions of Venus at sunrise and sunset, depending on when the planet rises and sets. In the morning, when we might see it positioned to the west of the sun, the Poet tells us it is “at his brow.” In the evening, when we might see it east of the sun, he tells us it at the edge (nape) of his neck. Now, having told us about the planet Venus, and that it provides the theme for this canto, he proceeds to tell us about his arrival. |
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| ↑2 | One constant, as they move upward through the heavens, is that Beatrice becomes ever more beautiful until it will be almost impossible to look at her. The movement of the countless lights he sees links Dante’s earlier statement that to human observers the planet seems to vibrate with love, and it does – but love for Love. And from what he tells us, we are intended to infer that the speed of the souls’ movement here is in proportion to their vision of God. |
| ↑3 | Speed seems to be one of the themes of this canto. No sooner have Dante and Beatrice arrived than they are surrounded by dancing spirits who sing angelic music that resonates deep within the Poet’s soul. Their “Hosanna” is reminiscent of the shout by the crowds who welcomed Jesus into Jerusalem on the Sunday before he was killed. It is also a word used twice in the prayer shortly before the consecration of the bread and wine in the Catholic Liturgy. It recalls the song of the angels in the heavenly liturgy recounted in the Book of Revelation. As a devout Catholic, Dante would have heard that angelic hymn prayed or sung when he went to church. In this context, his mention of the dance of the Seraphim makes sense. One might say that the entire Paradiso is a liturgy, a sacrament, mirroring the liturgy of the Church. At the Mass, the faithful hear the Word of the Lord and then consume His body and blood. Dante’s paradisial liturgy will bring him to a similar closeness to the Deity as he sees the Lord at the end of the Poem. |
| ↑4 | Along with the Poet, the Reader here cannot help but be overwhelmed by the effusive outpouring of joy and love by the spirits within the realm of Venus. Such joy and love engenders a palpable union among them: they move in one orbit, sing in one rhythm, and share one desire. In this way the souls invite Dante and Beatrice to join them in the dance of the angels – in this case the Principalities, one of the nine orders of angels who, in Dante’s construction of Paradise, have responsibility for the sphere of Venus. More than this, the speaker, whom we will meet in a moment, knows Dante’s canzone (poem) in his Convivio (Book 2) addressed to the angels of this third sphere: “O you whose minds move Heaven’s third great sphere.” There, Dante asks the angels of this sphere to hear him, and now this spirit does exactly what the Poet begged for: “So full of love are we that we will happily stop [dancing with the angels] and spend time with you.” But there’s a wonderful irony at work here. Readers must cast their minds back to Canto 31 of the Purgatorio where Dante was severely interrogated by Beatrice for having lost sight of and feeling for her after she died. Instead, he followed Lady Philosophy and went in an entirely different direction until he found himself lost in the Dark Wood at the beginning of the Inferno. As innocent as the Canzone the speaker refers to might sound from its title, it is there that Dante quite unabashedly states that he abandoned Beatrice after she died and found consolation in Philosophy. For this grave offense Beatrice demands that Dante repent before he can cross the River Lethe. Robert Hollander, commenting on the speaker’s quoting the Canzone’s title and Dante’s glance at Beatrice, observes: “While Dante turns to Beatrice to gain permission to pose a question to these souls, it seems likely that he might have looked at her to see if she is reflecting upon his disloyalty when he turned away from her to the donna gentile [Philosophy]. But he has been through Lethe, and himself cannot remember his fault. But if he cannot remember, we can. He did not behave so reverently to her memory in Convivio, when, as he tells it, after the death of Beatrice he read Boethius and Cicero looking for consolation (silver) and, in his re-acquaintance with philosophy, found gold (Conv. II.xii.4): ‘I who sought to console myself found not only a remedy for my tears but also the words of authors, sciences, and books. Pondering these, I quickly determined that Philosophy, who was the lady of these authors, sciences, and books, was a great thing’.” |
| ↑5 | Seeing that the spirit has already offered to speak with Dante, note that he doesn’t have to tell Beatrice that he wants to ask this spirit. She has read his mind and her joyful glance is her approval. And as we have seen here, and will continue to do so through the rest of the Paradiso, everyone Dante meets will appear as light. |
| ↑6 | As we will learn, the spirit with whom Dante has been speaking is Charles Martel. But this is not the more famous Charles Martel, King of the Franks, who lived some 500 years earlier than this one, who lived only from 1271-1295. This Charles was very well-received when he visited Florence in 1294, and it is obvious from the beginning of their conversation here that he and Dante had met, that he was a man of peace, and he may have intended to become one of the Poet’s patrons. Dante is thought to have presented Charles with a copy of his Vita Nuova on the occasion of his visit. |
| ↑7 | Charles, who died at the age of 24, offers a short summary of his regal pedigree and the perhaps optimistic direction it would have taken had he lived. Technically, he was the King of Hungary in title only. His son, Charles Robert, would ascend to the throne in 1310. The shout, “Kill them!,” refers to the revolt in Palermo on March 30, 1282 against the “bad governance” of the French under the tyrannical rule of Charles I of Anjou. The massacre, in what has come to be known as the “Sicilian Vespers,” saw the French defeated and expelled from Sicily and the throne taken from Angevins and given to Pedro III of Aragon. Charles’s optimism notwithstanding, the political scene in Naples and Sicily before and after the Sicilian Vespers was an unruly (pun intended) political tangle. (The term Sicilian “Vespers” refers to the fact that the revolt began late in the afternoon on March 30, during the time when the church ceremony of Vespers would have taken place in the Cathedral in Palermo. |
| ↑8 | Charles refers here to his younger brother, Robert of Anjou. In 1304 he followed Charles II as the ruler of Provence and the Kingdom of Naples. Because Robert had been a hostage in Spain, he brought many Catalonian courtiers with him to Sicily, noted for their greed. Again, Charles’s generous spirit opines that his brother would have been a wiser ruler had he surrounded himself with officials who cared more for the public good (and the public purse!). |
| ↑9 | The mutual affection between Dante and Charles becomes more pronounced here as the Poet sees its source in the beatific vision that Charles enjoys. In light of this deep affection, and what Charles has shared about the political situations Dante was well aware of, he raises a good question: how is it that honorable parents can have bad children? In this case, Dante is referring to Charles Martel’s greedy, bad-governing brother, Robert, who’s father, Charles II, was made of better stuff. (Interestingly, though, in the Purgatorio (20:79ff) Dante suggests that Charles II was also a greedy man. |
| ↑10 | Happy to answer Dante’s question (that is, to bring what is behind him to the front so he can see it clearly), Charles first provides him with a picture of the cosmos perfectly created by God, with its various parts managed perfectly by the different orders of angels. In creating each thing, including humans and their souls, God has a particular goal or purpose in mind related to the thing created. This is always the case. If it were not, then there would be chaos. The Divine Artist would, Himself, be imperfect, and so would His creations be. In addition, the various angelic orders (we will learn later that there are nine of them), in loco Deus, responsible for the perfect ordering of the cosmos, would be equally flawed. But, as Dante (we) can see, this is not the case. And as we keep in mind Dante’s question about good seed producing bad fruit, Charles is happily willing to explain further if the Poet wishes it. |
| ↑11 | In his commentary here, Mark Musa explains this more broadly: “The word ‘Nature’ as used here must be understood as including both God and the things God created. The idea is an Aristotelian one, which was widely accepted by the Scholastic philosophers. That Nature might ‘tire,’ undergo a lessening of intent, is unthinkable. A dynamic prevails in which the universe is eternally giving birth to God’s energy.” |
| ↑12 | The answer to this question is so obvious, one wonders why Charles asks it. Except that it leads to a further understanding of creation and the workings of Nature. Certainly it would be worse for us if there were no order in our society. Order implies the absence of chaos. That humans are “social animals” is also an Aristotlean concept. Human society, of course, is multi-faceted, and just as we learned in Canto 2 (127-148) that the cosmos is filled with diversity, so then is human society and the humans that shape it. Interestingly, though, diversity does not imply chaos; it is a necessary part of order. This takes us back to Charles’s earlier statement that God the creator has a particular goal or purpose for each of His (diverse) creations. |
| ↑13 | Again, Charles is leading Dante (or is it the other way around?). “Would it be worse,” he asks, “if there were no order in human society?” “Of course, it would be worse,” Dante replies. “And could this disorder happen,” Charles asks, “if people didn’t have diverse natures which lead them to certain goals?” Charles answers his own question, quoting Aristotle: “No.” Again, recall that diversity doesn’t imply disorder. And as we will see immediately, the goal of Charles’s questioning is upon us. |
| ↑14 | Once again, affirming the great diversity in human society, Charles lists a few examples. Solon was a notable seventy-century BC Athenian lawgiver; Xerxes was a third-century BC Persian emperor; Melchizedek was a king/priest contemporary of Abraham; and Daedalus was the mythical inventor whose son, Icarus, fell from the sky when he flew too close to the sun; Esau and Jacob were the famous biblical twins fathered by Isaac; and Romulus (also a twin) was one of the mythical founders of Rome. All of these men were very different from each other, including the twins. Charles Martel’s fundamental point here is that, regardless of heredity, the diversity apparent everywhere in creation is a manifestation of God’s art and providential care for the universe. Without it everything would be the same. |
| ↑15 | Earlier in this canto, as Charles Martel was summarizing his lineage, Dante raised the question how a good seed (a good parent) can produce sour fruit (evil offspring). Obviously, he had in mind that several of Charles’s successors were not good in spite of having honorable fathers. Charles responded that the answer to this question was “behind” Dante, and that he (Charles) would bring it to the front. Dante was thinking about heredity when he asked his original question, the presumption being that the fruit generally follows the pattern of the seed. Charles, on the other hand, has led Dante to see that simply following the same pattern of seed-fruit-seed-fruit would result in a dull society. Instead, and this is what he brings from behind Dante, God’s creation and the good ordering of that creation by the angels who maintain the cosmos, is filled with a great diversity that gives it endless variety. Thus, the examples of Solon and Xerxes, etc. above. However, Charles brings this canto to a close with another problem: what happens when people who, by nature and God’s design, are called in one direction, but who pursue something against their nature? Society, Charles states, would be much better if this didn’t happen. But it does and, for the sake of example, we find priests who should have been warriors, and kings who should have been preachers. Obviously, this is a comment pointing to the political and religious strife between church and state that Dante witnessed during his lifetime and which caused him a good deal of suffering. With the reader’s indulgence, let me include the last part of John S. Carroll’s commentary on this canto. Not only does he provide additional background to the discussion, but he catches Dante wandering off the track: |