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Vanessa's avatar

There is such a fine line between lust and initial feelings of love for a person to whom you are attracted. So much of our attraction appears to be subconscious, and what begins as lust can become mature love over time if we work at it.

While I agree it is never right to have an affair, it's interesting that we seem to put that behavior at the top of our hierarchy of sins in marriage/partnerships. There are so many ways to mistreat and abuse your partner. Having a Catholic and Protestant background, I find it interesting that sex is frequently the emphasis (even today with some Americans blaming LGBTQ people for bringing down the rest of the country and calling them dangerous). In my mind, the best application of this canto to our lives today is to ask ourselves what overwhelming desires we have that are hurting ourselves, our partners and the people around us.

The character Dante's compassion is lovely to see. Apparently Dante, himself, may felt conflicted about how our hearts can be so taken with another person. How tragic that there is no hope (line 44) for these people who, supposedly, loved wrongly. Irrationality in love is the human condition, and analysing our feelings when we are newly in love surely decreases the joy we feel.

I am also reading The Complete Danteworlds by Guy Raffa. He makes an interesting application to today: What is our responsibility regarding the depiction of sex, violence, and love in the media we create or consume?

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Corey Gruber's avatar

Three observations, and then a comment about what I believe is one of the most intensely personal cantos for our poet.

First: Minos is fascinating — he’s not a sinner, but rather an administrator and servant of divine justice — part of the bureaucratic apparatus of Hell, endlessly enforcing its order. “Next. Next. Next.” (I wonder if he’s questioning “lifetime appointments” for judges. One could also be inclined to ask if there is a PreCheck line for lawyers…😚)

Second: The inaugural mention of “pity” occurs here. One of the most fascinating progressions in the Commedia is the treatment of pity, compassion, mercy and justice as Dante “matures.” He has to learn to reconcile human emotion to the divine will — thus his encounter with Francesca reminds me of the adage “First the test, then the lesson.” His resolve is stress-tested by a beguiling enchantress, and it is a withering experience. The pilgrim swoons; the poet leaves it to us to discern the appropriate response to her “affliction,” which Isaiah 30:15 captures: “This is what the Sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel, says: “In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength, but you would have none of it.”

Third: It’s interesting to see his treatment of courtly love evolve from the traditional form and the conventions he used in his earlier works. Now he begins to shed or transform its rules, and their focus on personal desire, to fit a broader spiritual and theological framework.

And now my TLDR comment: I grant you pride of place for Dido, but to me this is an intense and personally revealing canto for Dante. First, he is embarking on the painful process of relearning how to love, including deconstructing his poetic commitment to courtly love. Second, it’s his first encounter with a sinner (a charming immoralist no less), and he is almost completely unarmored for “battle” (Remember Canto 2, line 3-4?). Canto V screams “Thicken your armor and harden your heart!” A suit of unassailable armor is being built for and by him — *if* he completes his journey.

There’s a tale from Roman military yore (retold in the modern military) that’s an analogous to his experience here: When centurions conducted their inspections of legionaries, it was the custom that each soldier, on the approach of the centurion, would strike the armor breastplate that covered his heart with his right fist — where it had to be strongest to protect the heart — and shout “Integritas!” (Indicating not only wholeness and completeness of his armor, but also of his commitment to protect the Empire). That declaration was changed a century later to “Integer!” (undiminished – complete – perfect, indicating not only that the armor was sound, but that the soldier was sound of character.) The legionaire’s heart had to be as sound and rightly-ordered as his armor. The word integrity derives from “Integer;” in this canto, integrity means living in harmony with the meting out of divine justice — even for those “lightly carried by the wind.” At the end of his journey, that integrity will be rewarded with divine love and eternal happiness. Dante (barely) passes this test, but it has thickened his armor and hardened his heart. He is learning the lesson of Proverbs 11:3: “The integrity of the upright guides them, but the unfaithful are destroyed by their duplicity.”

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