Dante & The Art of Reading
(Purgatorio, Canto XXII): Tree of Life, Gluttony and Prodigality
“Myth,” translated from Greek, means “word” or “story.” If that’s the case, then myth is one of the essential aspects of human nature.
One could say that what distinguishes us from animals is precisely the fact that we possess a very complex language.
We communicate with one another not through sounds, but through words. These words form sentences, and the sentences become large, complex texts, which humanity then begins to record—thus creating memory, without which the very notion of civilisation simply cannot exist.”
~ Zharinov, Lectures on Western Literature
Welcome to Dante Read-Along! ✨
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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 is the great Roman poet Virgil and in this Twenty second Canto of the Purgatorio, Dante and Virgil hear Statius’ conversion story. 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 end of the fifth terrace - The fifth P is erased from Dante’s forehead - Virgil heard of Statius’ love in Limbo - He asks how Statius suffered from Avarice - Statius tells his story of Prodigality - Virgil’s influence on Statius and his conversion - The sixth terrace of Gluttony - The tree with sweet scented fruit - The whips of Gluttony - Mary, the Roman women, and Daniel.
Canto XXII Summary:
Dante looked back in retrospect on the angel whom they had just left behind, the angel of Liberality at the end of the fifth terrace of Avarice, who had erased the fifth P from his forehead. He had only two left.
This angel, in giving its beatitude, had quoted “Blessed are they which do…thirst after righteousness: for they shall be filled.” from the Sermon on the Mount. The angel had included the word sitiunt—thirst—yet had left out the word esuriunt—hunger—in order to save it for the next terrace of Gluttony. Recall the theme of thirst from the last canto, and the guarantee here, with the erasure of the P, that the thirst was fulfilled.
Dante felt himself lighter with this new erasure, as Virgil had told him he would, the higher they climbed. He followed Virgil and Statius, who moved quickly up the steps to the next terrace. The shades spoke as they walked, and Virgil introduced themes of love.
Virgil began: “Love that is kindled by
virtue, will, in another, find reply,
as long as that love’s flame appears without;”
xxii.10-12
It is indeed true that sometimes one man will love another and will not be loved in return, perhaps because the person does not know he is being loved, for the heart cannot be seen. But if some sign of love is given by which he becomes aware of it, or if someone says to him, “that person loves you and wishes you well,” then he must of necessity love him in return.
Fra Giordano.
Virgil continued to say that his reciprocal love was sparked toward Statius while in Limbo, when the comic Roman satirist Juvenal arrived and let Virgil know of Statius’ admiration of him. Their walk would seem much shorter now that the friends could speak freely.
Virgil’s question to Statius was this: he could not imagine how Statius could be guilty of Avarice because of his great wisdom. Statius smiled and explained what could not have been known from the circumstances that Virgil and Dante had so briefly viewed. Statius had not been guilty of Avarice, but of its opposite, Prodigality, or wasteful extravagance.
Here, as in the corresponding circle of Hell, Dante shows hoarders and spendthrifts punished together, as offending, though in opposite ways, against the golden mean of a prudent liberality. In lines 49-51 he explains that the same rule holds good in the other Cornices of Purgatory, though he gives no examples of this.1
Statius attributes his change of ways, while living, upon the words of Virgil’s Aeneid:
“Why cannot you, o holy hunger
for gold, restrain the appetite of mortals?”
xxii.40-41
These lines came from characters we have seen before; spoken by Aeneas, he told the tale of Polydorus, son of the King of Troy, Priam, who was murdered by the one given to protect him, Polymestor, in order to gain his treasure. Had Statius not been so affected by these words, he would have continued on in his prodigality, and would be rolling weights in the fourth circle of hell with the Prodigal and Miserly.2 Statius repented.
How many are to rise again with heads
cropped close, whom ignorance prevents from reaching
repentance in—and at the end of—life!
And know that when a sin is countered by
another fault—directly opposite
to it—then, here, both sins see their green wither.
xxii.46-51
Statius pointed out the opposite natures of a single vice that were both purged upon a terrace, that those sins wither to nothing in the repentance of Purgatory. As well, he noted how many would not even realize their faults were to be recognized as faults, and at Judgment Day, “they will be resurrected: these with tight fists, those without any hair”,3 those Miserly and Prodigal.
Although Statius generalizes with respect to the pairing of all sins, the pair avarice-prodigality is the only such combination found in Inferno or Purgatorio.4
Virgil pointed out the timing of Statius’ life with his repentance, pointing to his writing on Thebes in his Thebaid. That poem detailed those “twin sorrows of Jocasta” (56) which were inspired by Clio, the muse of history, noticing that Statius had not yet repented, or become “faithful to the faith / without which righteous works do not suffice” (59-60) when he began writing the Thebaid.
Jocasta, wife of Laius, king of Thebes, was the mother of Oedipus, whom she afterwards married without knowing his true identity and by whom she became the mother of Eteocles and Polynices. The fratricidal strife of Polynices and Eteocles, culminating in their killing each other in single combat during the war of the Seven against Thebes, was their mother’s double sorrow.5
Virgil asked, if he was right in his understanding, that Statius explain to him what changed for him, what light, either from on high or from an earthly source, altered his course to follow that fisherman, St. Peter, to the church.
Who could it have been but Virgil? Virgil’s art pointed Statius to drinking the waters of Parnassus, infusing him with poetic inspiration, and acted as a lantern shining amidst the dark ways of paganism.
Mount Parnassus, a few miles above Delphi, was the abode of Apollo and of the Muses, who had there a sacred cave, and a sacred spring, the Castalian fountain, in which they bathed.6
The friendly soul who shows one lost the way,
Lights, as it were, another’s lamp from his.
Though he has lit another’s, his own still shines.
Cicero de officiis I.xvi.51
It was Virgil’s fourth Eclogue-which we covered in canto xxi-that brought Statius to the light, that poem that predated Christianity, but which gave Virgil the renown of having predicted the birth of Christ, and gave him the name of virtuous pagan.
The great order of the generations is born again.
Now the virgin goddess returns, and the reign of Saturn,
Now a new race is sent down from high Heaven.
Pure Lucina, look with favor on the boy whose birth
Will mark the end of the Age of Iron, and the rise
Of the Age of Gold.
Virgil Eclogue iv.5-10
Statius benefitted twofold from Virgil’s influence; first, in inspiring him to be a poet, and secondly, to turn to the Christian faith. He explained the conversion in more detail:
Disseminated by the messengers
of the eternal kingdom, the true faith
by then had penetrated all the world,
and the new preachers preached in such accord
with what you’d said (and I have just repeated),
that I was drawn into frequenting them.
xxii.76-81
Statius was referring to the apostles who traveled and spoke of Christ after his ascension, yet he also saw them being persecuted by Domitian, Roman Emperor, who was also Statius’ patron, and to whom his Thebaid was dedicated.
Among the many crimes imputed to [Domitian] was a relentless persecution of the Christians, which is mentioned by Tertullian and Eusebius, but of which there is no other historical record. Dante’s authority for Domitian’s persecution of the Christians was doubtless Orosius, who says of Domitian: ‘For fifteen years this ruler progressed through every degree of wickedness. Finally he dared to issue edicts for a general and most cruel persecution to uproot the Christian Church, which was now very firmly established throughout the world.’”7
Statius said that he scorned all other sects to stay true to this one. Dante made note of this in the Convivio when he stated that these other sects were the Epicureans, the Stoics, and the Peripatetics, or, followers of Aristotle.8 So, even while scorning others, Status stayed true, but had to hide his faith out of fear of persecution, and for that remission also served four hundred years on the terrace of Sloth.
Now that his story was told, Statius was curious about Virgil, and asked about the placement of other Roman poets, Terence, Plautus, Caecilius—who were all comic poets—and Varius, friend of Virgil, and the one who edited the unfinished Aeneid upon Virgil’s death. Where were they?
Virgil told Statius that those poets were in Limbo with him along with Homer, “that Greek” (101). Persius, a Roman satirist, was there as well, and other Greek poets, tragedians, and orators from antiquity; Euripides, Antiphon, Simonides, and Agathon.
Aside from these famous men, characters from Statius’ own works were also in Limbo, the two daughters of Oedipus, Antigone and Ismene, Deïphyle, the wife of king Tydeus of the seven against Thebes, and her sister Argia. Hypsipyle, the daughter of the king of Lemnos was there, Thetis, the mother of Achilles, as well as the princess that Achilles abandoned, Deïdamia, and finally, Manto, daughter of Tiresias, the blind prophet of the Thebaid.
Both poets now were silent, once again
intent on their surroundings—they were free
of stairs and walls; with day’s first four handmaidens
already left behind, and with the fifth
guiding the chariot-pole and lifting it,
so that its horn of flame rose always higher.
xxii.115-120
The handmaidens of the day—the hours—signified that it was after 10am, and the pole of the Sun’s chariot was pointing toward the meridian, hence the heat of the late morning sun. The poets had arrived on the sixth terrace, and walked counterclockwise along the path, before stopping before a most unusual sight.
But their delightful conversation soon
was interrupted by a tree that blocked
our path; its fruits were fine, their scent was sweet,
and even as a fir-tree tapers upward
from branch to branch, that tree there tapered downward,
so as—I think—to ward off any climber.
xxii.130-135
This upside-down shaped tree was covered in cascading water that fell from above, and a voice emanated from its branches, saying “this food shall be denied to you” (141), seeming to be the message to anyone who tried to pluck its fruit.
The voice continued, disembodied, to call out the whip of the sixth terrace, the examples of temperance; beginning as always, with Mary:
Mary’s care was for the marriage-
feast’s being seemly and complete, not for
her mouth (which now would intercede for you).
xxii.142-144
We visit the wedding at Cana again, where Christ turned the water into wine; previously the example was of Mary’s generosity in asking him to change water to wine, but in this example, her temperance led her to deny herself a drink of that wine. Similarly, in the second example, the women of Rome were said to abstain from wine:
At one time it was unheard of for a woman to drink wine among the Romans, lest by it she chance to do something undignified.
Valerius Maximus
The third example came from the book of Daniel, who, in the court of king Nebuchadnezzar, did not want to partake of the food of the court, but instead asked for “pulses and water”—pulses being beans—and was given the gift of visions in return.9
But Daniel purposed in his heart that he would not defile himself with the portion of the king's meat, nor with the wine which he drank: therefore he requested of the prince of the eunuchs that he might not defile himself.
Daniel 1:8
The voice from the tree continued, noting the golden age of humanity, in which they did not have to plow for food, but all was provided for them from nature, just as it was for John the Baptist, who fed on locusts and honey in the wilderness.
O happy was that long lost age
Content with nature’s faithful fruits
Which knew not slothful luxury.
They would not eat before due time
Their meal of acorns quickly found,
And did not know the subtlety
Of making honey sweeten wine,
Or how the power of Tyrian dyes
Could colour shining flocks of silk.
A grassy couch gave healthy sleep,
A gliding river healthy drink;
The tallest pine-tree gave them shade.
Boethius, Consolation of Philosophy II.v.1-12
💭 Philosophical Exercises
A man sees in the world what he carries in his heart.
~ Goethe
I must confess, my dear reader, that most of my friends are dead. I don’t mean that I’ve known many who have passed away, but rather that I have found in Goethe, Hugo, Dante, Hesse, Brodsky, Yourcenar, and Nabokov the kind of companionship one rarely encounters in life.
One such friend of mine, whose name is Cicero, once wrote:
Among the many great benefits of friendship, one stands out above all others: friendship shines the light of hope into the future and keeps the spirit from becoming weak or stumbling.
These friends of mine, though no longer alive, speak with more clarity, depth, and kindness than most living companions ever could. It is they who shine the light of hope into the future, who sustain my step when my spirit begins to falter.
Take away these friendships, and you might as well strip the sun from the heavens.10 For I can tell you in all honesty: without the company of those names I’ve listed - Goethe, Hugo, Dante, Hesse, Brodsky, Yourcenar, Nabokov - life would lose its flavour. Without them, there would be no one to shine light on the path ahead or to keep the fragile flame of my soul from going out.
This canto is a hymn to that kind of friendship, friendship that sustain one’s soul, elevates it to a higher level. Here, we first see it between Dante and Virgil, and then even more profoundly, between Virgil and Statius. Though sixty-four years separate their earthly lives, their conversation transcends time, echoing through eternity as if it had never been interrupted.
“To live the best life,” said the Oracle to Zeno, the founder of Stoicism, “you must first have conversations with the dead.”
In this canto, however, the conversation moves not only from past to present or present to future, but also from the present back to the past. For even though Virgil died sixty-four years before Statius was born, he knows of Statius’s masterpiece. It is as if the power of great art breaks the boundaries of time allowing the living to shape the memory of the dead, and the dead to inspire the yet unborn.
I.
Cicero wrote that true friendship can exist only among the good, for its very nature (unlike the fleeting alliance of the wicked) is to nourish and cultivate virtue between two noble souls.
It seems that Dante, the author, suggests that Virgil, though he died sixty-four years before Statius was born, was nonetheless aware of Statius’s masterpiece and even discussed it with his fellow shades in the starless realm of Limbo.
As one literary critic whom I refer to quite often in my Exercises wrote:11 ‘Great books are in conversation with each other. They cite each other. They know each other.’ So Dante converses with Virgil, Statius with Virgil, and Virgil, in his turn, with Statius.
II.
My reader might have noticed that Statius, though clearly an inferior poet to Virgil, owes his very salvation to Virgil’s Eclogues and the Aeneid. For a truly great poet—one with mastery of verse, vision, and imagination—has the power to unlock truths for the reader, truths that are not merely poetic, but spiritual and philosophical.
Statius is in Purgatory not because his poetic craft surpassed that of Virgil’s - certainly not. His works were imitations, admirable ones, but they did not exceed the greatness of what came before.
He is not here because of skill. If salvation were granted on the grounds of genius alone, then Homer or Virgil would be in his place. Statius is here because of how he read.
As Hollander notes, in his speech to Virgil (line 38), Statius says he did not merely read Virgil - he understood him. And in that deep, attentive reading, he grasped a truth that transformed his soul.
III.
The reason I draw my reader’s attention to this part of the canto is because it reveals the quiet power of meaningful, attentive reading.
We may not possess the literary genius of Marcel Proust, nor the painterly mastery of Eugène Delacroix, and yet their works, when truly absorbed, can ignite seismic shifts within us, transformations far greater than the very masterpieces that inspired them.
You and I most certainly do not possess Dante’s genius and yet this masterpiece, upon close reading, can change something within us, something that will not make us a Virgil, but will bring us closer to where we find Statius, in the process of ascending to Paradise.
And of course, to intrigue you, dear reader, let me say this: in the upcoming Themes section, we will explore what it was exactly that Statius understood from Virgil’s works that not only transformed his soul, but guided him toward salvation?
This Week’s Sinners and Virtuous 🎭
(Themes, Quotes, Terms and Characters)
I. The Tree of Life
I found the Tree of Life to be one of the most beautiful parts of this canto. In fact I wanted to dedicate the whole Philosophical Exercises section to it.
If in the Garden of Eden Adam and Eve indulged themselves in the plucked fruit, here the fruit is withheld from them.
One learns how to be temperate by enduring lack. You reach the best version of yourself by learning how to discipline your desire.
II. Dante’s Being Getting Lighter
As the angels erase each P from Dante’s forehead, his body becomes lighter and lighter.
I found this profoundly meaningful, especially in the context of the Philosophical Exercises which we have explored. Dante shows us that as we purify ourselves of vice, we shed spiritual weight. Vice, in this vision, is not simply moral error - it is excess, a superfluous burden we carry.
It clouds direction, slows progress, and leaves us over-encumbered, unable to move freely. Purification, then, is not about loss, but about recovering the lightness of being.
III. The Reverse of Moral Order from Inferno
In Inferno, the moral order follows lust → gluttony → avarice/prodigality, and as my reader must have noticed, this order is reversed in Purgatory. The reason for this is because Dante takes Aristotelian ethics and applies it to the Christian vision.
IV. What did Statius Understand?
In the previous canto, we explored how, in Dante’s vision, it was Virgil’s Fourth Eclogue that led Statius to embrace the Christian truth. But that was not the only verse that transformed him.
There is another line, not from the Eclogues, but from the Aeneid, that struck even deeper. When Dante and Virgil first encounter Statius, they assume he is being purified for avarice. But Statius quickly clarifies: his vice was not greed, but prodigality.
And it was Virgil who taught him this. In the Aeneid, Statius recognised that prodigality is not the opposite of avarice, but its mirror. Both are rooted in dismisura, a lack of measure, a disordered love, an excess without aim. Misplaced abundance is as damning as misplaced hoarding.
This, Statius says, is the wisdom he gleaned from the great Roman poet. And because he understood it, not just read it, but truly understood, the gates of Purgatory opened to him.
Quotes 🖋️
(The ones I keep in my journal as reminders of eternal wisdom):
Indeed, because true causes are concealed,
we often face deceptive reasoning
and things provoke perplexity in us.~ 28-31
Dorothy L. Sayers, Purgatory 245
Inferno vii.25-30
Inferno vii.57
Charles S. Singleton, Commentary on Purgatorio 525
Singleton 525-526
Sayers 245
Singleton 529
Dante, Convivio IV.xxii.15
Daniel did not want to eat of the food offered by the conquerors of the Jewish people.
Paraphrase of Cicero’s essay on friendship, page 91
The literary critic is Yevgeny Zharinov, who is an amazing figure, who resembles a character from Hugo’s Les Miserables. His speeches and works are available in Russian, which I am privileged to be a native speaker of, so I thought I would translate some of his wisdom into English.
My favorite quote from this Canto, "Love that is kindled by virtue, will, in another, find reply, as long as that love's flame appears without" (Purgatorio Canto XXII: 10-22)
Thanks once again Vashik for your guidance and extrapolation of the deeper meanings of our reading.
Amazing💌