Now that one has read a number of these cantos with
the pilgrims going through the terraces of purgation, we can see several
patterns. Remember these terraces are
for therapeutic conditioning of the soul toward virtue, so all things work
toward that end. When the pilgrims first
enter the terrace, there is some form of positive proclamation presented in
either an image or audio of the virtue.
Usually there are several but one will always be from the life of the
Blessed Virgin. The penitents on that
terrace are usually singing or chanting a hymn, also selected to accentuate the
virtue they need to learn. Then
undoubtedly the pilgrims meet the penitents, who are undergoing some form of
mortification. I think of it more as a
mortification than a penance. A penance
implies one is trying to make up for something in the past; a mortification I
would say implies a training to correct.
The penitents are usually in community, in groups helping each
other. In hell, souls were either
solitary or when in groups in opposition or even antagonism with each
other. Souls undergoing the
mortifications of these terraces usually ask for prayers. Finally as the pilgrims leave the terrace,
more images or audio are proclaimed, this time an example of a negative
proclamation of the sin. So the souls
undergo both positive and negative reinforcement as they circle the terrace
over and over. Finally when Dante leaves
the terrace, an angel responsible for that particular terrace removes one of
the “P’s” on his forehead. I don’t know
if it’s actually said or not, but I believe all the souls have a “P’ removed
when they have completed their temporal mortification, moving on to the next
terrace. Time on each terrace for the
penitents depends on how engrained that sin is in their being. Outside prayers seem to help along the
process.
Let’s take one of the terraces and walk through these
steps. Let’s look at the Terrace of Envy
which starts in Canto XIII and runs midway into Canto XV.
The positive proclamations of the virtue—charity being
the corresponding virtue to the sin of envy—are here in audio because the
mortification for this terrace is that the souls have their eyes wired shut,
and so can only hear. We hear the
Blessed Mother’s appeal to Christ at the wedding at Cana, “They have no
wine.” This is such a charitable appeal,
putting herself in empathy with the celebrants.
A lesser person, such as myself, might scoff and say, “Ha! I had plenty of wine at my wedding,” but the
Blessed Mother with her Immaculate Heart feels for those in pain and perhaps
more importantly tries to help remedy the situation. We see an example from classical
literature—Pylades saying he is Orestes to save his friend from execution—and
Christ stating the beatitude, “Love him who has done you wrong.” When Dante the character asks Virgil about these
proclamations, Virgil describes them as “scourges,” and the voices act as a
“cords of the scourge.” That’s a
fascinating metaphor. I think it
suggests mortification.
The hymn here is actually a chanted prayer, “Mary,
pray for us,”/then “Michael,” “Peter,” and “All saints.” It sounds like a Litany of All Saints, or
some early version of it.
The penitents in this terrace are actually the most
touching to me. Having their eyes sewn
shut means they can only advance as the blind—literally the blind leading the
blind. I don’t know if you’ve ever had
to help a blind person. My father went
blind from midlife on, and I’m so sensitive to it. They need so much help in doing some of the
very basic things we take for granted doing.
To walk in an unfamiliar area requires so much hesitation and
consternation. Each step is an unknown
adventure wrought with anxiety, if not fear.
To move about the terrace requires coordination between the souls. It forces them to act in charity with each
other. Dante the author emphasizes this
by bringing political opposites, a Ghibelline and a Guelph, together as now cooperating
friends.
The negative proclamations come from Cain, who
murdered his brother in jealously, and from Aglaurus, the woman in classical
mythology who was jealous of her sister’s relationship with the god
Mercury. Upon exiting, Dante is blinded
but a light that turns out to be the angel.
I think it is the light that here wipes away the “P,” a fitting means
since this terrace cures souls through blindness.
# # #
Let’s
ponder the theological discussions in the last three cantos and I’ll touch on the
upcoming one next time. On the terrace
of envy (Canto XV), we get a dissertation on how earthly things are limited and
so are reduced as people share them, but divine things multiply the more one
shares. Love breeds love, for
instance. Virgil tries to explain it to
Dante after he chastises him for thinking in a limited way:
And he to me: 'Because
you still
have your mind fixed on
earthly things,
you harvest darkness from
the light itself.
'That infinite and
ineffable Good,
which dwells on high,
speeds toward love
as a ray of sunlight to a
shining body.
-'It returns the love it
finds in equal measure,
so that, if more of ardor
is extended,
eternal Goodness will
augment Its own.
'And the more souls there
are who love on high,
the more there is to
love, the more of loving,
for like a mirror each
returns it to the other. (Purg. XV.
64-75)
The
analogy is that as light through multiple mirrors augments, so does love. It is not a coincidence that so much blinding
light occurs in this canto, and it is contrasted against the sewn eyes of the
penitents.
In
Canto XVI, the terrace of wrath, we get a dissertation on the nature of free
will and how it perpetuates evil in the world.
Marco the Lombard explains:
To a greater power and a
better nature you, free,
are subject, and these
create the mind in you
the heavens have not in
their charge.
'Therefore, if the world
around you goes astray,
in you is the cause and
in you let it be sought.
In this I will now be
your informant. (XVI. 79-84)
The
next couple of tercets explain why we perceive evil to come from heaven:
'From the hand of Him who
looks on it with love
before it lives, comes
forth, like a little girl
who weeps one moment and
as quickly laughs,
'the simple infant soul
that has no knowledge
but, moved by a joyous
maker,
gladly turns to what
delights it.
'At first it tastes the
savor of a trifling good.
It is beguiled by that
and follows in pursuit
if guide or rein do not
deflect its love. (XVI. 85-93)
A
new soul being born in the midst of a world set in motion, does not perceive
the evil that has been passed on to her day, and so identifies that evil to
come from the metaphysical. But that
soul too enjoys the earthly things (“the savor of a trifling good”), pursues them,
and is disordered by them, and through free will passes on the evil. Notice how this part of the theology builds
on the discussion of limited earthly goods from the previous canto. Marco goes on to discuss why then civil
authority is needed—to curb the bad choices made by our free will.
Then
coming out of the fog, which is also a symbol for the wrath that swallows up
those in that vice, Virgil explains the nature of love on which the whole
divine order is based on. First he
explains how all things start from love:
'Neither Creator nor His
creature, my dear son,
was ever without love, whether
natural
or of the mind,' he
began, 'and this you know. (XVII. 91-93)
So
it starts with perfect love from the Creator (the natural love), and we humans take
that natural love and have to filter it through our minds. I think that’s what Dante is saying, though I
admit it’s rather complicated and it’s possible I distorted the meaning. But let’s go with that. Virgil continues.
'The natural is always
without error,
but the other may err in
its chosen goal
or through excessive or
deficient vigor.
While it is directed to
the primal good,
knowing moderation in its
lesser goals,
it cannot be the cause of
wrongful pleasure.
'But when it bends to
evil, or pursues the good
with more or less concern
than needed,
then the creature works
against his Maker. (XVII. 94-102)
So
through the mind, man can either work toward the primal good with proper love
or distort that love in opposition to the Divine in several ways. Notice how here Dante is building upon the
last canto’s discussion of free will. I
can’t say this enough, everything in the Divine Comedy is perfectly integrated
and crafted. Virgil explains then as I
outlined in the summary of this canto, how this disordering can be a result of
loving an improper thing, not loving enough of good things, or loving proper
things in a distorted way. I think you
can see that without me spelling it out.
But
what’s important here is how these theological dissertations capture the nature
of all that is physical and metaphysical.
Dante through his Christian understanding of the world has envisioned
the totality of man and the universe.
Limited goods shape our earthly life; divine goods orient us toward God;
free will requires curbing of our appetites through civil and theocratic
authority; the use of our free will through our mental activity shapes our
souls in either positive or negative ways.
And the way our souls are shaped leads to the structure of our
afterlife. Both purgatory and hell are
shaped by the way we distort God’s natural love. The sins shape the structure of hell in a
descent, and shape the structure of purgatory in an ascent. The difference is that those in hell have
permanently distorted—twisted is a good way to think of it—their souls. In purgatory, through repentance the process
is to return to the soul you were meant to have, to untwist it into
normalcy.
The
entire Divine Comedy is shaped by the theological underpinnings. I find how Dante mirrors the intellectual
underpinnings of his world view into this beautifully constructed epic to be of
the utmost artistry. I have said this is
the greatest work in all of literature.
I hope I was able here to explain why.
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