It’s
been really hard to pick a starting point for commentary on these last three
cantos. One could start with the
centrality of the Blessed Virgin in the conclusion. One could start with the climatic mystical
vision of the Trinity—the theophany—and back the steps to there. One could start with the surprise transition
to a new guide for just a mere three cantos.
But I’ll start as Dante (the author) with the beauty and strange imagery
the mystical Rose, referred to as the Empyrean, which constitutes the City of
God.
As
Dante’s (the character) vision clears after immersing his eyes into the river
of light, he finds himself in a remarkable place, almost like a sudden
transition from one scene to another in a movie. He uses three sparkling similes in Canto XXXI
as an attempt to approximate the wonder.
These are the pilgrim similes.
Here’s the first.
If the barbarians, coming from that region
which Helice covers every
day,
wheeling with her son, in
whom she takes delight,
were dumbstruck at the
sight of Rome
and her majestic
monuments,
when the Lateran
surpassed all other works of man,
I, who had come to things
divine from man's estate,
to eternity from time,
from Florence to a people
just and sane,
with what amazement must
I have been filled!
Indeed, between the
wonder and my joy, I was content
neither to hear nor speak
a word. (XXXI. 31-42)
Just
like barbarians, who have probably lived in thatched huts all their lives, are
filled with wonder when they first enter Rome and see the immense architecture
and vast city, so Dante is taken aback with the wonder of Empyrean. The second (lines 43-48) describe that same
pilgrim wondering in such a spectacular city planning to tell his tale to those
back home when he returns. And finally the third pilgrim simile foreshadows the
climax:
As the man who, perhaps
from Croatia, has come
to set his gaze on our
Veronica,
his ancient craving still
not satisfied,
and who thinks to himself while it
is shown:
'My Lord Jesus Christ,
God Himself,
was this then how You
really looked?',
just so was I, gazing on
the living love
of him who, still within
the confines of this world,
in contemplation tasted
of that peace. (XXXI. 103-111)
Just
like a man from Croatia—that is a country bumpkin—comes to Rome to see
Veronica’s relic, the face of Christ on a towel and wonders if this is how
Christ truly looked, so too Dante -feels like a country bumpkin, and remember
Dante is a pretty sophisticated guy.
Notice, that face is what Dante will actually see at the theophany in a
few moments.
The
image of angels as bees interacting with the human souls, who are as flowers is
stunning. The bees gather the “pollen”
of God’s love and pollinate the followers.
We are indeed in a new world charged with God’s grace. As the Israelites crossed the desert to a
land of milk and honey, Dante has arrived at his journey’s end.
This
city of God is in the shape of a white rose.
In each petal of the rose resides a sanctified soul. Is this rose a corresponding and contrasting
image to the inner city of hell, Cocytus?
One would have to surmise so, and
then a comparison could not be avoided.
Cocytus is a frozen lake with souls stuck in the frozen ice, cold,
sterile, and bleak. The rose, on the
other hand, suggests beauty, life affirming, fertility, warmth. In Canto XXXIII, an allusion is made that
Mother Mary’s womb is a flower: “'Your womb relit the flame of love --/its heat
has made this blossom seed/and flower in eternal peace” (7-9). The rose is a womb which is a tabernacle.
Just
as Dante (the character) was frozen from fear to find Virgil disappeared toward
the end of Purgatorio, so he is
frozen from fear to find Beatrice gone at the end of Paradisio. And both times a
new guide replaces the old.
Dante’s
prayer to Beatrice (XXXI. 79-90) pays tribute to the woman who saved his soul
and led him “from servitude to freedom.”
In that respect Beatrice is an analogue for Moses who in turn is an
analogue for Christ.
But
why introduce a new guide here with only three cantos to the end? At the end of Purgatorio it made sense a new guide would be needed since Virgil,
a pagan, could not enter heaven. There
is nothing obstructing Beatrice from continuing into the heart of
Empyrean. In fact we see her seated in
her place in the Rose. Bernard seems
unnecessary.
But
by having Bernard complete Dante’s journey, Dante (the author) accomplishes two
vital points. First it highlights the
centrality of the Blessed Virgin’s position in these latter cantos. St. Bernard is one of history’s greatest
devotees of the Blessed Mother, and so he is most fitting as a guide here. More on that centrality in a bit.
Second,
Dante (the author) creates a web of intercessors from which Dante’s (the
character) salvation rests. Recall that
in the first two cantos of Inferno,
when Dante was in a midlife crises and lost in the wood, it was the Blessed
Mother’s compassion that dispatched St. Lucy to dispatch Beatrice who
dispatched Virgil to guide Dante. But
why were all those links needed? Why
couldn’t the Blessed Mother come herself to Dante and lead him through? Indeed, why couldn’t Christ Himself appear to
Dante and guide him? Perhaps a
Protestant author would have done it that way.
But
it would have been so much a lesser work.
Besides the rich narrative complexity that would have been lost, it
would also have lacked showing the communion of saints that work for our
intercession. While we face God alone in
our judgement, our journeys are not solitary.
We have many earthly and spiritual people who come to our aid. The Blessed Mother, St. Lucy, Beatrice,
Virgil form a web of spiritual intercessors.
We have such a web at our disposal too.
With
this understanding we see that the Virgin Mary’s quiet centrality has been
throughout the Divine Comedy. She’s the one who set in motion the means for
Dante’s (the character’s) salvation. Her
centrality is evident within the Empyrean.
When Bernard points up to the top of the Rose, it is the Queen Mother
who stands out brightest.
Once
Mary is identified as the central locus in the Rose, Bernard then points out
various saints relative to her position.
Notice the pattern that Bernard creates as he identifies blessed
souls. He follows a line down from Mary,
and then to the left of her, and then to the right. This forms the shape of a cross. On the mirror opposite side from Mary, he
forms another cross, this time with John the Baptist at the top. Indeed, the divisions of the Empyrean can be
seen as sectors formed by the lines of cross.
The left-right divide formed by the shaft (stipes) divides the worthy
Hebrews from the Christian saved. The
top-bottom divide formed by the crossbar divides adult saved from the infants
saved.
Finally
Bernard tells Dante if he wants to be worthy of the ultimate vision, he must
refocus on the Blessed Mother. Notice
how he phrases this:
'Look now on the face
that most resembles Christ,
for nothing but its
brightness
can make you fit to look
on Christ.' (XXXII. 85-87)
“The
face that most resembles Christ” is pregnant (pun intended!) with meaning. The Blessed Mother most resembles Christ in
that (1) she is sinless, (2) she has an equal heart of compassion, and (3) she
was His physical mother. Dante (the
author) could not have known about genetics but certainly it was evident that
children resembled their parents. One
should never minimize the importance of the corporeal nature of the
incarnation.
