National Post (National Edition)
Embracing the `Divine Comedy' of blessed hope
It was intended to be a celebration of Dante over two years: 2020, which marked the 700th anniversary of the completion of the Divine Comedy, and 2021, which marks 700 years since his death. The pandemic put paid to all that.
The Divine Comedy is arguably the greatest literary work in the history of humanity, if one sets aside sacred texts, which have their own distinct character. Certainly no other contender can match its philosophical and theological depth, meaning that it gets to the heart of reality, as all good literature should.
The coincidence of the Dante septi-centennial coinciding with the pandemic is suggestive. Dante's great poem comes in three instalments: Inferno, Purgatorio and Paradiso. It is, after all, a “comedy” in the classical dramatic sense, with a happy — or in this case, blessed — ending. Life is not a tragedy, or at least need not be, viewed from the perspective of eternity.
Inferno is much better known than the other two instalments. Why does Dante's account of hell resonate more with us than his account of purgatory and heaven? Is this world, marred by sin and suffering, more like hell than heaven? If so, that would be a dismal accounting of our lot.
Inferno confronts that view from the beginning. As Dante approaches hell, he is nearly overwhelmed with anguish at the stark inscription over the gate: “Abandon every hope, all ye who enter here.”
It is, alas, Dante's most famous and quoted verse. He applies it to the realm of death, and it would certainly overwhelm if it was applied to life. Are there grounds for hope in this life, in the present, or are our circumstances set, like the past is already fixed? Are we condemned to an unchanging reality like the souls Dante encounters in hell?
Remember that Dante is a visitor, not a resident. Indeed, Charon, ferry master of the River Styx, initially refuses to take Dante across to the realm of the dead. Dante is not eligible for the trip for he is part of the living, not the dead. There is still time for the poet, still the possibility of change and salvation.
Where there is life, there is hope.
That's not Dante; it has been attributed to various authors. I am content to credit Cicero, some 14 centuries previous, on the grounds that it would please his contemporary, Virgil, Dante's chosen companion through the Inferno and Purgatorio.
Cicero wrote that, “A sick man, as long as he has breath, has hope.”
It has been thus this past year. To abandon hope is, in a certain sense, to give up on life. The human spirit is reluctant to do that, as it finds it abhorrent.
So it has been during this pandemic. No matter how bleak the situation, authorities of all kinds insisted at all times that there was hope. A global pandemic in an atheistic China and secularized Europe might have been expected to bring forth the ancient pagan resignation to fate. That didn't happen.
The insistent refrain was that if only the right choices were made — and we can leave aside the wisdom of any particular choice — then hope was on the horizon. Too often it was a mirage, but the point remains. We rebelled in 2020 against abandoning hope.
Dante takes human freedom very seriously — seriously enough to vividly illustrate the consequences of our choices. That's not a Greek idea, but a Hebrew one, as Moses taught the children of Israel: “I call heaven and earth to witness against you this day, that I have set before you life and death, blessing and curse; therefore choose life, that you and your descendants may live.”
Death and curse prowl about the land and will have their say. But theirs is not the final say. There remains the word of hope.
To all my readers in these festive days of faith and hope, I wish a very happy and holy Christmas!
WE REBELLED IN 2020 AGAINST ABANDONING HOPE.