Discussion about this post

User's avatar
Susan Scheid's avatar

Your choice of Matisse’s Dance and the Yourcenar poem add elegant layers of resonance to this tremendously thoughtful essay.

Expand full comment
Corey Gruber's avatar

I think we’re at a point where it’s worth considering how the Pilgrim’s personality can veer from tenderness and pity (in this Canto and the last), to instances of vindictiveness and, yes, even cruelty. Here he exhibits grace rather than gruffness, but he is also an active participant in Hell’s cruel and absurd contradictions. Why does Dante react intemperately with some sinners (e.g., Filippo Argenti) and not others? Denton J. Snider’s commentary on the Inferno calls it Dante’s “tumult of wrath.” (I’ve included an extended snippet from Snider’s 1892 Commentary below* because it distinguishes traits of the Pilgrim that might be at variance with our expectations.) Does the Pilgrim become inured or callous to sinners’ agonies? Is he desensitized by witnessing Hell’s parade of gladiatorial spectacles? (Seneca: “…Watching people slaughtered in the arena makes the spectators more greedy, more ambitious, more dissolute, and certainly more cruel and inhuman.”) Perhaps there is an underlying rationale for the friction. It’s worth remembering the adage: “To polish a diamond there is nothing like its own dust.” (Genesis 3:19: “For dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.”) By immortalizing sinners (with sympathy or severity), Dante enhances their stature (for better or worse); in turn, the sinners (Hell’s dust, if you will) polish Dante’s faith and resolve. I believe he uses this constructive friction to sharpen and add luster to the Commedia’s message.

[ * From “Dante’s Inferno: A Commentary”, by Denton Jaques Snider (1892): “We note, at first, a strong emotional element in the man, a tenderness, a pity, yes, a weakness at times, which he does not conceal. He shrinks, he is afraid of the demons, afraid of his own frailty. Profusely he sheds his tears and scatters his sighs; sensitive, timid, apparently the most unfit man for an infernal journey, he is Dante the human, sympathetic, we might also say Dante the sentimentalist. But we soon find that this is a small part of the man, so small that it seems but a mask in which to play his other self, or a foil which is to set off the true Dante and which he uses dramatically in talking with Virgil, his Guide, and often his other ego.

Then we begin to see the Dante on the obverse side, manifesting an opposite set of weaknesses; vindictive, cruel, yielding to passion, mighty in denunciation and damnation; he overtops in wrath the wrathful Filippo Argenti; he betrays the traitor Bocca degli Abbati; he cannot leave punishment to the devils but takes it into his own hands to see that it is well done. He demonizes himself, he becomes possessed, as it were, and most wonderful is that speech of his when the fit is on. Very likely there is no injustice done to these people, they deserve to scourge them, with his tongue mostly, but sometimes he lays hold. Such is the demonic Dante. Not well otherwise could he be, writing an Inferno.”]

One interesting point about what seemingly “virtuous” sinners in the Inferno say about their peccancy is the absence of shame. Its constant, understated presence is foundational to the Inferno and Purgatorio. Dante was writing within a contemporary culture of shame, where its terrifying consequences — and thus its deterrent effect — were a given in a society shaped by religiosity, chivalry, and fama. Shame and sin are inextricable linked; once shame evaporates, sin blossoms. In an article “The Absence of a Culture of Shame,” George A. Panichas noted: “…human existence is meaningless without the living experience of sin and shame.” Hell is shorn of shame. Sinners may express sorrow (Francesca, for example), or hint at regret (Piero della Vigna), but sorrow and regret are not shame. Absent shame, sin, to paraphrase Joseph Conrad, “breeds monstrous crimes and monstrous illusions.” The souls in the Inferno are more concerned with justifying their sins, blaming others, or lamenting their punishments than expressing shame or repentance. We will have to wait till Purgatorio to see shame become productive — the lubricant that greases the wheels of repentance.

With respect to what question I would ask of the living were I condemned to the Inferno (I’m not liking my odds), I would paraphrase a line from Horatio Spafford’s famous hymn, “It is Well With My Soul” and ask “Is it well with your soul?” (BTW, If you don’t know the story of Horatio Spafford, Google him. Please.)

I am now going to ask for forgiveness, for I have sinned: out of curiosity I decided to prompt a few of the current AI platforms to respond to your question. Heresy, I know!

Spoiler alert: The replies are, IMHO, cringe — exactly what I would expect from soulless large-language-models that are biased toward secular responses. TBH, they sound like awkward beauty pageant contestant answers — tho at least those contestants are human and ensouled. (I think.)

Here are the questions generated by six popular AI platforms:

— ChatGPT 4.0: "Do they still remember me, and what legacy have I left behind?"

— Claude 3.5: "How did humanity ultimately choose to use artificial intelligence - as a tool for collective flourishing, or as a means of deepening our divides?"

— Deepseek: "Has humanity learned to live with compassion and wisdom, or does it still repeat the same cycles of destruction and division?"

— Grok 2: "What advancements have been made in understanding and improving the human condition, particularly in terms of ethics, compassion, and the pursuit of knowledge?"

— Mistral: "What collective actions can humanity take to foster peace, empathy, and sustainability on Earth, ensuring the survival and well-being of all living beings for generations to come?"

— Gemini: "What is the prevailing understanding of the interconnectedness of all things, and how is that understanding being applied (or misapplied) to shape the future?"

I don’t think we have much to worry about with this kind of “reasoning.” (Yet.) Sterile, hollow, saccharine, falsely earnest — in contrast to what Simone Weil stated so eloquently about human beings: “An extraordinary entity this — a thing that has a soul.”

Expand full comment
2 more comments...

No posts