Bitter Fruit, Sweet Seed: When a Warrior Becomes a Priest
(Paradiso, Canto VIII): Charles Martel, Planet Venus and Forces of Love
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Welcome to Dante Book Club, where you and I descend into Hell and Purgatory to be able to ascend to Paradise. Our guide in Paradise is Beatrice, and in this eighth Canto of the Paradiso, Dante speaks with Charles Martel about divine governance. You can find the main page of the read-along right here, reading schedule here, and the list of chat threads here.
In each post you can find a brief summary of the canto, philosophical exercises that you can draw from it, themes, character, and symbolism explanations.
All the wonderful illustrations are done specially for the Dante Read-Along by the one and only Luana Montebello.
This Week’s Circle ⭕️
The third celestial sphere of Venus - The difference in love expressed carnally and love expressed purely - Charles Martel, King of Hungary and heir to Charles of Anjou - Just rulers represented by Principalities, the angelic host of the third sphere - History of Charles Martel - Nature of Divine Providence - Need for social order for humanity.
Canto VIII Summary:
Dante invoked the idea of the goddess Venus, looking at the way she had been revered in ancient times through her role of passionate love, yet through the course of the canto, will examine how those understandings of her also became lived realities in their most pure form in the celestial realm, the third realm, of the planet named after her. Her course contained an epicycle as a part of her regular spherical rotation in the Ptolemaic understanding of the universe:
And on the arc of this circle in the heaven of Venus, which is under discussion here, is a small sphere that revolves by itself in that heaven and whose circle astronomers call an epicycle. And just as the large sphere turns two poles, so does this small one; thus this small sphere has an equatorial circle and is nobler the closer it is to that. And on the arc or back of this circle is set that most brilliant star of Venus.
Dante Convivio II.iv.16
Venus, birthed from the sea foam off of the coast of Cyprus, was worshipped for her fertile and passionate energy; a necessary energy that could turn to frenzy and dissipation if not used constructively; here in this realm of Paradiso, especially into the next canto, the inhabitants held her energy in an excess in its many expressions, but not in a destructive manner.
Dante pointed out the nature of the error of those ancient people that made sacrifices and vows to her, and also to her mother, Dïone, and her son, Cupid, in a kind of pagan trinity. Venus had sent Cupid to trick Dido in Virgil’s Aeneid; knowing that it was the influence of Cupid, who had disguised himself as Aeneas’ son Ascanius, who made Dido fall in love with Aeneas, made Dido’s story even more tragic.
Venus, Cythera’s goddess, however, was spinning some new tricks,
New plots deep in her heart. Her intent was that Cupid, her own child,
Switch his appearance and face, then come in to replace sweet Ascanius,
Madden the queen, kindle fire with the gifts, set her bone-marrow blazing.
Virgil, Aeneid I.657-560
Venus, the last planet in the shadow cast by the earth and its influence, sometimes rose in the morning, sometimes in the evening, signifying her ‘nape and her brow’ (12).
And the heaven of Venus can be compared to rhetoric in terms of two properties. The first is the radiance of its aspect, which is the most delightful to see of all the stars. The second is that it appears in both the morning and the evening. These two properties are in rhetoric as well, for rhetoric is the most delightful of the sciences, and in fact being delightful is its main aim; and it appears in the morning when the rhetorician speaks directly before the listener’s face, and appears in the evening-that is, after or behind-when the rhetorician speaks in written form and far from the addressee.
Dante Convivio II.xii.13-14
Dante and Beatrice had flown so quickly from Mercury to the sphere of Venus that he had not even been aware of their movement, although Beatrice’s increasing loveliness was one marker of their journey upward.
And just as, in a flame, a spark is seen,
and as, in plainsong, voice in voice is heard—
one holds the note, the other comes and goes—
I saw in that light other wheeling lamps,
some more and some less swift, yet in accord,
I think, with what their inner vision was.
viii.16-21
These lights were souls, now indicated by their radiance rather than by their previous name of ‘shade’ as they were far down below us. Within the larger light of the planet Venus, smaller sparks of light flew, each spark representing a soul; they were visible just as one would see sparks flying through flames, or to use another metaphor, as a single voice singing a melody would stand out from a constant second underlying note.
These lights not only circled round in their movement, but leaped quick as lightning from the clouds as they journeyed downward to Dante from the celestial circle of the Seraphim, the highest celestial realm that gazed upon the ineffable Empyrean, where God dwelt. Their song filled Dante with delight and became one of the impressions that would stay with him always.
One spark came forward and addressed Dante and Beatrice, expounding upon the pleasure and delight that it was inherent for them to express, speaking with a universality of those souls inhabiting Venus. The speaker, who was never named, but was familiar through the descriptions he gave of his life on earth, was Charles Martel.
Charles Martel and the other souls encountered in Venus are symbols of the sensual man whose easy surrender to the temptations of the flesh is accompanied by an affectionate and generous ardour. Now, purged of their sin, they come, swifter than lightning, to meet and converse with Dante, showing a ready eagerness that recalls the response of Paolo and Francesa.1
Each of the celestial realms was home to a different order of angelic beings, aside from the souls who resided there through association. The third celestial realm was the home of the angelic Principalities, who can be imagined as ‘celestial princes.’
A particular relationship exists between the third heaven and the angelic order of principalities, appropriately enough, considering that this episode is concerned with princely rule and misrule.2
It remains now to contemplate that final rank in the hierarchy of angels, I mean the godlike principalities, archangels, and angels. However, I think I should first explain, as best I can, the significance of these holy designations. The term ‘heavenly principalities’ refers to those who possess a godlike and princely hegemony, with a sacred order most suited to princely powers, the ability to be returned completely toward that principle which is above all principles and to lead others to him like a prince, the power to receive to the full the mark of the Principle of principles and, by their harmonious exercise of princely powers, to make manifest this transcendent principle of all order.
Pseudo-Dionysius, The Celestial Hierarchy ix.1
The souls there were unified with the angelic nature and essence of that realm, revolving in perfect accord with the heavenly helpers: ‘one circle and one circling and one thirst are ours’ (34-35); Charles, in his introduction, quoted Dante’s own poetry back to him, a poem in which Dante had been recounting his conflict in love between Beatrice as a woman and the lady philosophy he strove for after her death:
All you who, knowing, make the Third Sphere move,
hear what is in my heart, this strange discourse
I can’t tell others for it feels so new.
The Sphere that follows on your virtue’s force—
noble, gracious creatures that you prove—
draws me in this state I have just come to.
Dante, Convivio II.ii.1-6
As the souls in the third sphere were filled with love purified in its expression, both socially and relationally, compare that purification to the levels of lust in Purgatorio and Inferno; these triple examples of love show the full variety of the phases possible in expression from the lowest, thoughtless indulgence to the brightness of pure love.
Dante looked to Beatrice for confirmation of a silent request, and upon her affirmation, asked the soul who he had been in life; the soul, visually represented as pure light, grew larger and brighter at this question, knowing that to fulfill Dante’s wish would bring it more joy.
This soul was Charles Martel, the grandson of Charles I of Anjou, and who was granted the kingship of Hungary through marriage to Clemence of Hapsburg, the daughter of the Emperor Rudolph I when he was only 21. He had died young and had therefore been unable to bring more goodness into the realm, as would have been his desire:
Here he illustrates the theme of love applied to society, to ideal kingship and the integration of human nature into the social order, contrasted with the examples of misrule by his grandfather and brother.3
So filled with love and joy was he, that his shining light hid him as a cocoon hid the silkworm within; Charles pointed out that in life Dante had known him, and had he lived longer, Dante could have seen the fruit—not just the leaves—of his love, referring to his support of Dante’s political cause in Florence:
You loved me much and had good cause for that;
for had I stayed below, I should have showed
you more of my love than the leaves alone.
viii.55-57
Charles began the first part of an extended speech, which would ultimately cover three themes, outlining the lands that he would have inherited had he lived, and explaining the theology of providence and the role of a true ruler, which was lacking in those who were currently in power.
He named the lands of Provence and the southern region of Italy—using the old Latin poetic name for it, Ausonia’s horn—as two regions over which he would have come to power, even as he already held the kingship of Hungary. Sicily, shadowed by the smoke from the volcanic Mt. Etna and affected by the African Sirocco winds would also have been under his domain:
Sicily would now be awaiting a line of kings descended from Charles of Anjou and Rudolph of Hapsburg (respectively the grandfather and the father-in-law of Charles Martel), if the revolution of 1282, called the Sicilian Vespers, breaking out in Palermo with the cry ‘Death to the French!’ had not driven Charles’s people from the island and given the crown to Peter III of Aragon.4
He outlined the grievances of his ancestral lands. His brother, Robert of Anjou, King of Naples, had at one point been captive in Catalonia, and had adopted their miserly natures, so that when he finally came to rule, his kingdom, already filled with troubles, was made more so by this withholding nature. While Robert was stingy, he had been born from those with more lavish natures—referring to Charles of Anjou—neither habit being balanced and harmonious in the realm of the generosity of Venus. All of this background outlined the lineage from which Charles had sprung, and which Dante himself was familiar with.
Dante thanked him for his explanation, which brought him joy and understanding, but it also raised in him a question: how could a miserly nature—one that withheld love and generosity—come from a lavish one?
You made me glad; so may you clear the doubt
that rose in me when you—before—described
how from a gentle seed, harsh fruit derives.
viii.91-93
Charles began the second part of his address to Dante with this question, moving from his own history to the larger field of the nature of providence:
The second phase directs attention away from history to the workings of providence. This account draws on the Aristotelian view which holds that Nature never does anything in vain. In keeping, however, with the view of divine order that he is exploring in the Paradiso, Dante goes beyond Aristotle and proposes a fully Christian understanding: it is divine goodness which moves all the spheres through which Dante is passing, and such goodness desires not merely that all things should exist but that, according to their nature, all things should move towards their own particular end or fulfilment.5
Providence, a divine direction, or purpose given to existence, worked through this movement of the planetary bodies down to the earthly realm of humanity (the earth itself partook of this harmony by necessity), who could also exist in that same harmony that moved the heavens, if the individual was so aligned—here was free will in action—and in that alignment, a perfection of expression was possible. If this were not so, then the universe would exist in chaos:
Were this not so, the heavens you traverse
would bring about effects in such a way
that they would not be things of art but shards.
That cannot be unless the Minds that move
these planets are defective, and defective
the First Mind, which had failed to make them perfect.
viii.106-111
The light filled soul of Charles asked Dante if this cleared up his understanding, or if he needed more clarification. Upon Dante saying that he understood this nature of Providence as it acted upon the earth and all that was within it, Charles continued on to the third part of his speech; after the history, and the nature of providence came the importance and necessity of a social order on earth:
— Homo natura civile animal est —
Man is by nature a social animal.
Aristotle, Politics I.i.1253a
Dante used Aristotle’s argument that many kinds of talent and ability were necessary for a well functioning city, just as these were also necessary for the perfect harmony of the running of the universe.
To this notion Dante adds the further emphasis-drawn from the idea of a just court which underlies his meeting with the princely Carlo-that as in a perfect court, so in a perfect universe the talents of each constituent member of that universal ‘court’ will be justly recognized and celebrated.6
Charles made the point that it took a variety of differences to create a unity, just as Aristotle—Dante’s master—wrote.
Thus the Philosopher says that man is by nature a social animal. And just as a person requires the domestic companionship of family so that his or her needs may be met, so a household requires a neighborhood so that its needs may be met; otherwise it would be deficient in various ways, which would thwart happiness. Moreover, since a neighborhood cannot satisfy all its needs on its own, the city must exist for the satisfaction of its needs. Further still, the city requires for its industry and defense that it have commerce and cooperative relations with neighboring cities, for which purpose the kingdom was created. Dante Convivio IV.iv.2
So, it was not ‘sameness’ in role and rank that created a providential unity, but the embrace of difference in all of its forms that created this perfect harmony.
‘Thus, the roots from which
your tasks proceed must needs be different:
so, one is born a Solon, one a Xerxes,
and one a Melchizedek, and another,
he who flew through the air and lost his son.’
viii.122-126
This need for variety had been represented throughout history by the examples of those of influence who came from very different spheres; Solon, the model statesman, Xerxes, the model warrior, Melchizedek, the model priest, and Daedalus, the model artisan.
Nature did not necessarily keep all of these same gifts within the same families, and Charles used the biblical example of the twins Jacob and Esau, so different from one another, or Romulus, founder of Rome, whose father was ascribed to being Mars in order to account for his own godlike nature.
But the children struggled in her womb: and she said: If it were to be so with me, what need was there to conceive? And she went to consult the Lord. And he answering said: Two nations are in thy womb, and two peoples shall be divided out of thy womb, and one people shall overcome the other, and the elder shall serve the younger.
Genesis 25:22-23
But there was a caveat to this, that if it were only nature’s influence, that like would always produce like; but through Divine Providence, these disparate natures coming from the same source were not only allowed but necessary.
But if the world below would set its mind
on the foundation Nature lays as base
to follow, it would have its people worthy.
viii.142-44
Charles ended his speech with a final thought regarding the necessity of difference and the inborn talents and inclinations inherent in all, with the thought that if one were meant to be a soldier and were made a priest, or one fit for theology made king, that inherent nature could not then be truly fulfilled.
💭 Philosophical Exercises
For we must so act as not to oppose the universal laws of human nature, but, while safeguarding those to follow the bent of our own particular nature; and even if other careers should be better and nobler, we may still regulate our own pursuits by the standard of our own nature. For it is of no avail to fight against one’s nature or to aim at what is impossible of attainment.
~ from Loeb edition of Cicero’s On Duties
I.
In Letters to a Young Poet, Rainer Maria Rilke advises the aspiring poet who sought his guidance to avoid writing about love. It is, as he explains, the hardest subject to treat without slipping into triviality.
And in our modern day, we can see how difficult it truly is. There are countless songs written about love that no longer resonate, that feel like mere repetitions: copy of a copy of a copy (to quote one great film).
To write a true novel, a true poem, or a true song about love in a unique way, to reveal something new, is an extremely difficult task. Not only because every artist, musician, and poet has tried to explore this topic before you, but also because love itself is such a deep and profound feeling. One must first learn how to experience it, then to feel it, and finally to articulate it. Herman Hesse’s wonderful story Siddhartha perfectly describes this.
The idea of Love, however, was “kidnapped” in the 19th century; today we use it almost exclusively for romantic love, and only occasionally hear remnants of its older sense in phrases like ‘love what you do’.
Dante begins Canto VIII by reminding us that throughout history, especially, in the classical world, Love was celebrated even before the Christian revelation. Venus, as a cosmic influence, expresses the natural drive toward union whether between two souls, or between a mind and its vocation.
The opening of this canto shows the universality of love whether pagan or Christian, divine or human.
Once again in this canto we witness a transition: Dante traces the continuity between the classical and Christian worlds, classical ideas lay the foundation, and the Christian vision carries them a step further.
Too often we imagine that with the birth of Christianity the classical world was eclipsed or severed as if the two stood wholly apart. For Dante, and for medieval thinkers, and later Renaissance humanists: the classical world did not oppose Christianity. He sets his poem in continuity with that classicising tradition, even using an elaborate imperfect to summon the past; and throughout, the poetic tradition itself serves as a guide for the soul.
In the lines where he says, I did not notice my ascent to it, yet I was sure I was in Venus when I saw my lady grow more beautiful , Dante shifts from Venus’ myth to his own present vision. In these verses we see a transition from poetic tradition to prophetic revelation. The entire Paradiso reads more like prophecy and vision than like inherited poetic convention.
Among the most beautiful lines are those where Dante says: I saw in that light other wheeling lamps, some more and some less swift, yet in accord, I think, with what their inner vision was (vv. 16–21). These lights symbolise how love gives motion to our hearts and souls. They move swiftly as fire or lightning, showing that love serves as the motor of motion. And Dante’s similes of wind or fire, unseen yet powerful, capture love’s very nature: invisible but irresistible. It is something we all have felt but cannot fully describe. The most vital forces of life are often untouchable, indescribable, and yet they are what keep us alive.
II.
Then one light comes forward: Charles Martel approaches Dante and begins to speak with him. It is phenomenal to see this meeting of friends. We perceive the friendship between them and here we witness once again Aristotle’s fingerprints.
For Aristotle taught that true friendship is eternal when it is grounded in virtue. Dante shows us that friendship and virtue transcend time itself.
As Teodora Baroliano notes, for Dante and the medieval Christian thinkers, love was not confined to romance. It was present in all areas of life: in marriage, in one’s vocation, and in friendships. In Latin, amicitia (friendship) derives etymologically from the word Love (amor, amicitia) and the language of love itself.
A love of friendship, Dante suggests, grows even deeper here than it could on earth.
Charles provides another exemplar of love, complementing Dante’s typology of eros, marital, and mystical love: the love of friendship. But the conversation soon turns to his older brother, King Robert. Although Petrarch and Boccaccio praised Robert’s court and called him generous, Charles here calls his brother miserly. This becomes the philosophical crux of the canto.
Charles explains that though Robert came from noble origins and a generous family, this did not guarantee his virtue. Even with virtuous ancestors and a generous brother, Robert turned out otherwise. This raises the profound question of heredity and character: how can bitter fruit come from such a sweet seed? (v. 93). Dante stages here the truth that virtue and nobility are not inherited by blood. They are achievements, requiring effort and striving.
As the Russian proverb says, В семье не без урода—”no family is without its ugly member.” Dante shows us that character, virtue, and nobility do not automatically pass from parent to child. Each soul is uniquely shaped by Providence.
III. The Polis, Providence, and the Dangers of Misplaced Roles
Always, if nature meets a fate unsuited to it, like any kind of seed out of its native soil, it comes to a bad end, and if the world below paid more attention to the foundation nature lays and built on that, it would be peopled well.
~ from Hollander’s edition of Paradiso
It is interesting to see that, once again, virtue cannot be achieved in isolation. Life in the polis is an essential part of human flourishing. Dante shows us that we do not live in a vacuum: how we live with ourselves, with our partners, and with our friends matters—but equally important is how we act as citizens in the grand scheme of the city).
Human flourishing requires the polis. One cannot be happy in a miserable city or a corrupt community. This is a profound thought: the polis shapes our minds, just as our personal conduct, our alignment with nature and divine order, shapes the community.
Often, people either immerse themselves in the chaos of society or detach completely from it, but both extremes are signs of madness. A healthy community is essential for a sane mind. Dante’s genius lies in showing that within society each of us has varied functions depending on our inborn inclinations. People are differently disposed, and differences of nature are necessary for the health of the polis.
Here Charles names exemplars: Solon, the great lawgiver; Xerxes, disposed for war; Melchizedek, inclined toward priesthood; and Daedalus, the mythic inventor.
For Dante, invention and art are one. Providence distributes distinct vocations for society’s health. The fact that parents excel in one area does not guarantee that their children will follow the same path. Children may resemble their parents, but they also diverge. God designed nature this way so that diversity sustains the city. Without it, the polis would fail.
One of the canto’s key philosophical insights is that corruption arises when a person occupies the wrong role: when one not predisposed to lead an army becomes a commander, when someone unwise and unvirtuous becomes king, or when the material and corrupt are placed in the priesthood. This often happens when parents force their children to follow their own profession, even when the child is not inclined to it. Humans then force mismatches (warrior into monk, preacher into king). The result is a life lived against one’s nature, and a society that strays from the divine plan.
IV.
Another essential theme is Dante’s treatment of the heavens and astrology (vv. 94–135). Carlo explains that the heavens impress inclinations upon human beings, but if they were left without divine providence, they would produce only chaos and ruin. It is providence that ensures order and harmony. This is a crucial clarification: the stars incline us, but they do not determine us. Providence deliberately intervenes so that children are not merely replicas of their parents. Difference is guaranteed by God’s guiding hand, and this difference is what makes society flourish.
This Week’s Sinners and Virtuous 🎭
(Themes, Quotes, Terms and Characters)
I. Your Natural Inclinations
Another essential theme is Dante’s treatment of the heavens and astrology (vv. 94–135). Charles explains that the heavens impress inclinations upon human beings, but if they were left without divine providence, they would produce only chaos and ruin. It is providence that ensures order and harmony.
This is a crucial clarification: the stars incline us, but they do not determine us. Providence deliberately intervenes so that children are not merely replicas of their parents. Difference is guaranteed by God’s guiding hand, and this difference is what makes society flourish.
II. Free Will and Human Error
Carlo points out that what goes wrong is not the work of the stars but of human beings themselves (vv. 136–148). Providence and the heavens do their work well, but men misuse their free will.
Parents and rulers force their children into roles for which they are not suited, creating disorder and corruption. A warrior is pushed into the priesthood, a preacher is forced into the throne. In this way, society goes astray, not because providence fails but because human beings act against their natural inclinations.
Here Dante is crystal clear: the health of society requires both divine providence and human responsibility.
Quotes 🖋️
(The ones I keep in my journal as reminders of eternal wisdom):
He added: Tell me, would a man on earth
be worse if he were not a citizen?
Yes, I replied, and here I need no proof.
Can there be citizens if men below
are not diverse, with diverse duties? No,
if what your master writes is accurate.
Until this point that shade went on, deducing;
then he concluded: Thus, the roots from which
your tasks proceed must needs be different:
so, one is born a Solon, one a Xerxes,
and one a Melchizedek, and another,
he who flew through the air and lost his son.
~ lines 115-126, Paradiso, Canto VIII
Dorothy L. Sayers, Paradise 120
Robin Kirkpatrick, Paradiso 359
Allen Mandelbaum, The Divine Comedy 727
Charles S. Singleton, Commentary on Paradiso 154
Kirkpatrick 360
Kirkpatrick 360
I love Dante's quote about individual, family, neighborhood, and city.