Dante’s Inferno: History and Art
Inspired by Virgil, both as poet and as author of the Aeneid, Dante wrote a quasi-autobiographical account of a poet’s journey through Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise. Dante’s vision was fantastically detailed, both in his theological/geographical conception of the underworld, and the characters – mostly real- who people it.
Dante’s epic, influenced by the Aeneid and Aristotelian philosophy, in turn inspired many other works of poetry and art. From the first illuminated manuscript editions, before Gutenberg, to the 1951 edition with illustrations by Salvador Dali, illustrating Dante has been the inspiration for great art. The tormented humanity of Dante’s characters has inspired many sculptors, such as Auguste Rodin and Jean-Baptiste Carpeaux, and the many fantastic (and gruesome) images of the Commedia are well translated into painting, by such diverse artists as William Blake and Dante Gabriel Rosetti. T.S. Eliot used quotes from Inferno to illustrate despair and sorrow. Finally, the very drama of the Commedia lends itself well to video representation, and is the basis for several films and even a video game.
The origins of the Commedia: Virgil
Virgil’s hero, Aeneas, fleeing Troy and on his way to found the city of Rome, travels to the underworld to see the prophet Tiresias. There he meets dead heroes from the Trojan War, and his father Anchises prophesies the beginnings and glorious future of Rome, all the way to Julius Caesar. Virgil’s underworld differs from Dante’s in many ways, and Dante’s (the poet-character) journey is more concerned with the judgement and end of all of us, and our universal redemption, than with predicting the future or even carrying on a narrative towards the end of the story and beyond, as does Aeneas’.
Dante’s contemporaries in Hell: the factions of Florence
At the time of Dante’s birth in 1265, Florence was split by two warring factions: the Guelphs and the Ghibellines; Dante’s family were Guelphs. The battle of Montaperti, when the Guelphs were defeated and Florence lost regional control, took place in 1260. When Dante was a young man, however, the Guelphs regained power at the battle of Campaldino. During the prime of his life, Dante took active part in Florentine politics, as well as beginning his career as a poet, and as ambassador to the Pope, was sentenced to death in 1302; Dante went into exile, travelling from city to city and dying at Ravenna in 1321. His Commedia was written in exile. The many Florentines in the Inferno are both Guelphs, Blacks and Whites, and Ghibellines; friends and enemies of Dante, and their punishments certainly do not always reflect their relative animosity or sympathy to Dante: he meets some whose end he mourns, and some who he can barely stand to meet, even if they are condemned to eternal damnation. In a way, the Inferno is unavoidably tied to its time in history, as certainly the poem would have been very different had Dante been able to remain in Florence until his death. But, the Commedia is much more than its political background, though the reader can only benefit from an acquaintance with Florentine history. Dante’s contemporaries were human, as well as Florentines of the 13th century, and the canvas of his time gave him inspiration to write a great poem about humanity, self, and religion. Beatrice
When Dante Alighieri was 9 years old, he met the 8 year old Beatrice, who would become his muse for the rest of the poet’s life and career. For Beatrice, who died in 1290 at the age of 24, he wrote his Vita Nuova, a collection of poetry that explores the poet’s love for Beatrice, his grief at her death, and his life and vocation as a poet. Beatrice herself is more than just a historical figure: as Dante’s love and muse, she takes her place in a long line of feminine inspirations, from the Muses Virgil and Homer invoked, to the courtly ladies the troubadours and cavaliers of Dante’s day worshipped from afar. She also takes her place in the Commedia, as Dante’s advocate to Heaven when he is lost and despairing at the beginning of the Inferno, and as his guide through Purgatory, when Virgil must leave him. In this ultimate transfiguration of the girl Dante loved, she takes on different layers of significance, and is portrayed as the ideal woman. Beatrice, as his ideal of beauty, womanhood, and spirituality, guides Dante through life and the Commedia, and inspires in turn other poets and artists who have been inspired by Dante. The Illustrators of the Divine Comedy
The Commedia was written over a century before Gutenberg’s printing press, but was first circulated in small booklets, beginning in 1314 with Inferno. Early manuscript copies were illuminated; the earliest illustrations are very 2-dimensional and relatively primitive, as they predate the Renaissance discoveries of form and perspective; the later manuscripts, such as the 1444 by Priamo della Quercia, show greater mastery of composition, figure drawing, and shading. Della Quercia’s illustration of Dante and Virgil meeting Count Ugolino in the Ninth Circle (canto XXXIII) shows two snapshots of the poets, a sort of time elapse depiction of two moments on their journey. At the left of the picture, we see both Archbishop Ruggiero and Ugolino talking with the poets. On the right, Ugolino has returned to his eternal gnawing at Ruggiero’s head, and Virgil motions to Dante as if to stop or caution him as he questions the grotesque count. Sandro Botticelli (1445-1510), another Florentine, illustrated an edition of the Commedia in 1481. His illustrations are detailed sketches, showing many stories in the same frame and compressing several actions of one canto into one frame.
William Blake, the visionary English poet and painter, made several illustrations of the Commedia starting in 1826. He died before he could complete the commission, but the completed illustrations show his command of his art, and his deep artistic interaction with Dante and his poem.
Gustavo Dore (1832-1883) illustrated the Inferno in 1857, when he was still a young man. He was well known for his engraved illustrations, and his engravings for the Commedia are among the most famous and memorable. The 1911 film L’Inferno owes much to Dore’s visual conception of Dante’s epic.
In 1951, Salvador Dali (1904-1989) was commissioned to illustrate a new edition of the Commedia, for Dante’s 700th birthday. Dali’s surrealist style interprets Dante’s imaginative world in an unexpected way, and brings out both the horror and beauty in the Inferno.
L’Inferno in painting
There are many paintings based on the story of Paolo and Francesca (Canto V). Francesca, daughter of Guido di Polenta, married Gianciotto Malatesta of Rimini, but fell in love with his brother Paolo, and the two of them were killed by Gianciotto when he discovered their love. The couple, condemned to the Second Circle, is endlessly swirling among the other floating spirits of the Lustful, and when Dante hears their story, he faints. The scene of the forbidden kiss of Paolo and Francesca, Gianciotto’s discovery and their death, and this scene in the Inferno have all been painted by various artists. The first illuminated manuscripts we have show the spirits suspended in mid-air, and Dante and Virgil conversing with them. William Blake, in a similar strategy to that of Priamo della Quercia’s illumination, depicts the spirits swirling in the air, Dante in a faint on the ground and Virgil standing over him, and a small image of Paolo and Francesca’s forbidden embrace, as a visual flashback, in the air over Dante and Virgil. In this way, he shows the act, its consequences, and how Dante hears and reacts to this story. Ary Scheffer, in his 1835 painting, shows the lovers as they appear to Dante and Virgil, who watch them float in the air. The couple is draped in fabric, with which Paolo covers his face as if for shame; Francesca clings to him, her back to us and the spectators. The two seem to be both deeply concentrating on eachother, unaware of the world around them, as well as shutting out that world, for shame or fear.
The Inferno in sculpture: Rodin’s Gates of Hell
In 1880 Auguste Rodin began to create a massive set of doors for the Musée des Arts Décoratifs, depicting various scenes from the Inferno. Neither the museum or the doors were ever completed according to plan, though the doors were exhibited in 1900, still a plaster cast; later on, the doors were finally cast in bronze, according to Rodin’s vision. Rodin used famous figures from the Inferno, as well as other characters from mythology, to adorn the Gates of Hell. He subsequently recast several of the figures as full size statues. Paolo and Francesca at the moment of their kiss, originally part of the Gates, were removed, because their moment of total happiness was not somber or tormented, like the rest of the figures in the Gates. Instead, Rodin removed them and created a statue entitled The Kiss, and another statue called Paolo and Francesca, later in their story, when they are caught in the eternal whirlwind in Hell. This statue, free standing, posed different difficulties from The Kiss, as the figures must seem to be suspended. Rodin solved this problem by creating a solid base for the figures that seems airy and in motion. It is interesting to note that Rodin’s most famous statue, The Thinker, was originally part of the Gates. It was placed at the very top, above the doors, and may signify Dante, or Adam contemplating his fall and its effects on mankind, or simply the poet, in abstract. Ugolino in the tower: Rodin and Carpaux
Jean-Baptiste Carpeaux (1827-1875), also from France, was born 20 years before Rodin. His work is of the Romantic style, and in his time he won acclaim from his peers. He created a sculpture based on Canto XXX of the Inferno in 1857 of Count Ugolino and his sons in the tower. Carpaux’s statue is larger than life size, and depicts Ugolino as he watches his sons starve to death. Ugolino della Gherardesca was a Ghibelline of Florence who held several powerful offices in his prime, but was accused of treason and condemned to starve in the Torre dei Gualandi in 1289, along with his sons and grandsons. The sons, in Dante’s account, are young children, though in the historical record both sons and grandsons are adults. They ask Ugolino to save himself by eating them when they have died of hunger. Dante’s account leaves the actual end of Ugolino’s life in mystery: Ugolino tells his story with the ambiguous words “Then hunger did what sorrow could not do […]” which suggests either that before resorting to cannibalism, he died himself, or that he took his sons’ last counsel and committed a terrible infamy in order to spare himself. Ugolino is condemned to the Ninth Circle, Antenora (second ring) for his crime of treason to Florence, rather than crimes against his own family (whereas Gianciotto Malatesta, brother and murderer of Paolo, goes eventually to the Ninth Circle, Caina, first ring, for betraying his family). If he had eaten of his own children’s flesh, perhaps that crime would also have condemned him to the Ninth Circle, but because crimes against country are ranked lower (more grave) in Inferno than crimes against family, perhaps Ugolino would be in Antenora regardless of his actions in the tower. The treatment of Ugolino by Rodin, also forming part of the Gates of Hell and later separated into a free standing statue, shows him looking at the bodies of his children in despair, so at that point in Ugolino’s story, his choice is already before him. Rodin does not hint at the choice Ugolino makes; neither does Carpeaux. The dramatic value of this moment in its ambiguity makes a better subject than perhaps Ugolino after destroying his children; unlike for instance, Ajax surrounded by the sheep after he goes mad and destroys them, the moment of destruction would lose some of the drama of the moment in which he can destroy or not destroy. Ugolino’s options are both horrendous and the final moment that comes from either decision would be a pathetic picture in itself, but seeing him with that choice before him lends great drama and artistic potential. T. S. Eliot and the Inferno
T.S. Eliot (1888-1965), American/English poet, was greatly influenced by Dante His poems The Wasteland, The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, and Ash Wednesday are (typical of Eliot’s style) full of allusions, and most strikingly, allusions to Inferno. He quotes the inscription over the Gates of Hell, as well as quoting Guido Cavalcanti, contemporary of Dante (perch’ i’ non spero di tornar giammai), and Guido da Montefeltro’s words to Dante (s’io credesse che la mia risposta fosse a persona che mai tornasse al mondo). In The Wasteland, Eliot also uses quotes from Wagner’s opera Tristan und Isolde, which is based on a French romance from the courtly tradition to which Lancelot and Gallehaut (the book Paolo and Francesca read) belong. The quotations from Inferno give Eliot’s poems a sense of sorrow and despair, and allude to (the poet/narrator) Eliot’s spiritual journey by quoting (the poet/narrator) Dante’s spiritual journey in the Commedia.
The new media: film and beyond
Because of the cultural significance of Dante’s epic, and the dramatic value of the text, it is no coincidence that the first full length Italian feature film was the 1911 L’Inferno, directed by Giuseppe di Liguoro. Film at that time was silent, which placed more emphasis on visual effects and acting than on dialogue. Dialogue or description was limited to a few sentences at a time, written on title cards shown in between shots of the action. Silent films, especially those of Melies and Cocteau, often had fantastic subjects, and stretched the capacity of special effects of their time. Inferno is no exception. Paolo and Francesca and the other suspended spirits are truly floating at different levels in the air, very slowly, in the dark, and though one can imagine how the illusion is created, the dream-like (or nightmarish!) effect which pervades most of the film is strong enough to be convincing. Very slowly, they descend to Dante and Virgil and tell the story of their love and death. They are clothed in white because of the constraints of censorship, though the spirits in the Commedia are not clothed, and they float effortlessly, though not entirely happily.
Di Liguoro directed and also acted in the film, playing the parts of Ugolino and several others. The scene with Ugolino and the Archbishop Ruggiero is especially terrifying, with the face of Ugolino dripping with blood but his hair encrusted in ice, in which the traitors are all half buried. Ugolino recounts his story to Dante, and the film cuts to a flashback of the tower, and Ugolino starving with his sons. We see the jailer take the key and throw it away; and Ugolino and his sons, in despair. The sons here are adults. The narrative tells us that Ugolino, after six days, was left alone with the corpses of his sons, and died himself on the ninth day, and then we see this on the screen. We watch Ugolino in the tower rend his clothes in sorrow, and then we see Ugolino in Hell, proud and angry, return to his eternal tearing at the Archbishop’s head, his political enemy and author of his undoing. Dante is horrified, but like so many other moments in Inferno, Virgil moves him on his journey.
The film, even with few excerpts from Dante’s beautiful words, conveys eloquently the drama seething beneath the poem and literally beneath the earth. The final scene “e quindi usciammo a vedere le stelle” is shot looking up at the poets, from dark up to light, so Dante and Virgil are silhouettes. Dante makes a gesture of surprise (this time wonder, not horror) and Virgil calmly explains the next steps he will take. He takes Dante’s hand and leads him to the light.
Dante at the opera
In 1918, Giacomo Puccini’s three short operas, entitled Il Trittico, were premiered at the Metropolitan Opera in New York. The first two operas dealt with more or less contemporary subjects (a Parisian barge man and his wife; a young woman forced to become a nun after bearing an illegitimate child) but the third opera concerned itself with a character from the Inferno: Gianni Schicchi, a falsifier from Canto XXX. Schicchi was a clever man, not rich, who posed as a certain nobleman (in reality, recently deceased) in order to take the rich man’s goods for himself. For this forgery, Schicchi is condemned to the Eighth Circle of Hell. Schicchi’s story, therefore (and his gruesome punishment in hell) is not at all comical, but the source on which Puccini based his opera is comic. The eponymous hero, villain, or antihero, as it may be, deals cleverly with Buoso Donati’s relatives, who also wish to inherit his wealth, and with Schicchi’s daughter, Lauretta, who wishes to marry her Florentine sweetheart, Rinuccio. Schicchi puts on the dead man’s clothes and signs the will, in the presence of a notary, and in the end, Schicchi and Lauretta both have their way. The relatives are left out in the cold. Perhaps Dante would appreciate Rinuccio’s arietta, “Firenze e un alberito fioril,” in praise of his native city, or perhaps the whole opera would make the poet roll in his grave in exile.
Finally, in the past few years the Inferno has been reimagined in a completely new medium: a video game, where you play as Dante and guide him through the underworld. The screen shots show an imaginative conception of Dante’s vision; though the object of the game ( to find Dante’s dead wife ) is less Dante’s object on his journey through the underworld, than the story of Orpheus.
These various exports of Dante’s drama into media unheard of in his time, and his inspiration to art that reached far beyond the artistic conceptions of his time, show how ageless and timeless Dante’s epic really is. The politics with which many of Dante’s sinners concerned themselves (and for some, for which they were condemned) may be distant from our era, and the individual names of Farinata, Ugolino, Gianciotto, Ciacco, etc, might well be forgotten outside of Florentine history had they not been immortalized by Dante; though condemned to unending suffering, they have also gained a certain immortality from the Inferno. Dante, and his mentor Virgil, both understood what it was to feel pride, and sorrow: to be human, in fact. In the end, it is Dante’s humanity, not his theology or imaginative journey, which makes him eternally a poet and pilgrim along the road of our life.
Hawkins, Peter Dante: a brief history Blackwell 2006
Jacoff, Rachel (ed.) The Cambridge Companion to Dante Cambridge; 2003
Mandelbaum, Allen (tr.) L’Inferno (dual language)
Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth (tr.) L’Inferno
Websites
Wikipedia.org: for pictures and links only
worldofdante.org
