Wednesday 1 June 2011

To Lower Hell

Shaken from the sight of the wrathful souls at war with each other, Dante is surprised to suddenly see before him in the distance a towering wall of stone (for the previous episode of this, please click here). Seized by curiosity, he sees great flames bursting upon its lofty battlements, just too far away to perceive. Before his questions can be answered however, an ancient craft appears in the dank waters of the Styx. A boat, ragged with age breaks the surf, steered by a fearsome man, bent with age. He is Phlegyas, boatman of the Styx (and also, in life, was the father of Ixion - for more see here).


The Furies taunt Dante
Engraving by Gustave Doré.
His spiteful exhortations rebuked by swift words of Virgil, Phlegyas steps back to receive his crew. Our pilgrim notices that only when he places a foot in the skiff does it sink with the weight - the weight of the living. Sweeping across the Styx low in the waves, Dante spies in horror a slimy hand emerge from the dark depths. "Who are you, who come before your time?" the shade enquires. The poet recognises the dead man's face; it is Filippo Argenti, a man he once knew in life, an arrogant and foul man. "May you weep and wail, stuck here in this place forever, you damned soul!" Dante bravely replies. Argenti tries in vain to reach for the boat, but harsh words from Virgil lash him back to the depths. Virgil turns to his protégé and commends his rebuke of so vulgar a soul. Reaching the foot of the walls, they set foot upon land once more. A reddish glow seems to rise beyond the citadel. This is the city of Dis, a keep which guards the lower regions of Hell, reserved for graver crimes yet.

The bright glow Dante sees is that of the Eternal Fire burning beyond, maiming so many souls yet to come. Atop the battlements of Dis lurk many thousand Fallen Angels, who once rose in impious war against God himself (for this story, please click here). Intimidated by their jeers, Dante is reassured by Virgil, who tells him that none can harm him, by God's command, they are fearsome to the mind and eyes alone. Approaching the gate, they find their way barred by the demonic host. Awaiting aid, the two poets rest awhile, as Virgil once more strengthen Dante's resolve, reassuring him that he has passed this gate once before. Just then a new apparition appears, but it is no servant of Heaven. The Three Furies; Megaera, Alecto and Tisiphone, and in their wake the Gorgon Medusa (whose story is told here). Quickly clapping his hands over Dante's eyes, Virgil does not trust to chance that our poet may allow curiosity to defeat his fear. For one the glance of the Gorgon will ensure Dante never leaves this place. The fell spirits taunt and chide the pilgrim for his life, and his fear. But, just then, an angel arrives from Heaven, scattering the evil spirits and condemned shades afar. Denouncing the Fallen Angels for their futile resistance, the shining spectre opens the gates for the two poets, and their journey begins in Lower Hell.


The Heretics
Engraving by Gustave Doré.
The land of Hell is different here. 'A countryside of pain and ugly anguish' stretches before Dante's eyes. Scattered in the plain all about are countless graves, open too, their lids cast aside, and roaring flames pouring from within. To his anguish, Dante can just make out the screams of the tortured souls, bound in their deathly graves. Here, in the Sixth Circle of Hell, are condemned those who spread heresy in life. Just as their fiery tongues spread malice in life, so now they bathe in fire in Hell. False prophets of Christendom lie afire, as do ancient philosophers of the Epicurean school, who believed that the soul died with the body on Earth. Nor are the deep graves for one soul each. Each sarcophagus is home to many, all packed within the inferno. Yet another soul, Farinata, is one Dante knew in life, who was his enemy in Florence in days of old. The two speak of the ills of Florence and her scheming politics, as another soul rises from its fiery grave. He was once Cavalcanti in life, and begs Dante tell him of his son, does he still live? Shocked by the shade's emotion, Dante cannot speak. Misinterpreting his silence, Cavalcanti believes his son dead, and retires, weeping, to his ordeal, cursed to ponder it for all time. Dante begs Farinata to go and tell the spirit of Cavalcanti that his son is indeed alive on Earth, and that his silence was not meant as he took it. Seized by curiosity once more, Dante enquires as to why so many souls have asked him of the current affairs on Earth. The souls damned in Hell, Farinata tells him, are cursed to see the future, and future alone, and know nothing of the present, "this much the sovereign lord grant us here". When the Final Judgement comes, the future will be closed off to them, and all hope will be lost, left to see nothing but their own endless torment.


The Violent against people and property
Engraving by Gustave Doré.
Moving on at Virgil's bidding, and coming to a steep bank, a dreadful stench rises from a nearby pit. It is a vast grave, vomiting forth vile miasma. The inscription on the coffin lid nearby states "Within lies Anastasius, the Pope". Indeed, a great many men of the cloth are condemned in Hell, neither Pope nor Cardinal is safe from judgement. Coming to another ridge, they spy a monster, the Minotaur of Crete, lying at the edge of the abyss, guarding the Seventh Circle of Hell. Virgil cries out to the Bull, reminding him that he is cursed there too, cast down to the House of Death by Theseus long ago. The Minotaur writhes in rage, an anger so intense the beast cannot rise, shuddering pathetically by the Pit. Here, in the three rings of the Seventh Circle, are punished the violent, each guilty of malicious violence to a different being. Descending into the first ring, a vast river of boiling blood flows past in cruel torrents. Burning in this foul current are those who through violence injured other men or their property in life. Galloping around the rim of the river Phlegethon are a herd of Centaurs, who hunt with their arrows any soul which tries in desperation to claw its way up from the river. Our pilgrim recognises powerful men of old burning up to the eyebrows, he sees Alexander, the tyrant Dionysius, even Attila, King of the Huns and the Scourge of God, all tormented in the sanguine waves. Eyeing the two poets with suspicion, Chiron, leader of the Centaurs, demands their purpose, lest they be shot too. Once again, Virgil takes control, and asks guidance for the way beyond, ordered thus by the Almighty. Dante, as a living man, cannot touch the Phlegethon, and is borne across a ford by the Centaur Nessus, as they approach the second ring.


The Suicides
Engraving by Gustave Doré.
Reaching a grand forest, the poets enter the second ring. No leaf here was green however. Twisted, gnarled and entangled trees sprouted forth leaves of charcoal black, as cruel thorns of poison bloomed where flowers should be. This is a forlorn place, one of sorrow and melancholy. In the high branches, harpies stir, foul birds, shrieking eerie calls. Wails and lamentations of grief sounded all about, and Virgil eyes our pilgrim:




                       " And so my teacher said, 'If you break off
                                a little branch of any of these plants,
                                what you are thinking now will break off too'.

                        Then slowly raising up my hand a bit
                               I snapped the tiny branch of a great thornbush,
                               and its trunk cried: 'Why are you tearing me'... "
                                                           - DANTE UNCOVERS THE TORMENTED
                                                       
To his horror, Dante realised that all of the trees of this forest are souls, cruelly bound as trees. As blood spurts forth from the stump, the soul cries in pain. Here are punished the suicides. Just as they scorned the gift of their bodies in life, now they are denied their own form here in Hell. The soul reveals himself to have once been Pier delle Vigne, an advisor to King Frederick II of Sicily. He was once his most loyal servant, but due to the intrigues of jealous courtesans, fell from favour and was cast into jail. Lamenting his injustice and losing all hope, he took his own life, dashing his head against the cell wall. He came to Hell, and his earthly body was torn away from him, as King Minos hurled his soul down here. Just as he had shown no care for his body in life, no care was shown for his soul in Hell. His soul fell in this land, and germinated a tree. The Harpies relentlessly feed on his leaves, and their constant movements break off branches, leaving him in constant agony. Just then new souls run into the clearing, terrified and lost. They are profligates, who recklessly did violence to their own property in life. One hides in desperation in a thorny bush. Suddenly a pack of ferocious hounds charge in, snapping branches as they go, as they maul the poor soul, tearing his flesh with their fangs. The thorny bush laments in pain, a soul who was once a Florentine in life who hanged himself in his home. Dante is left to ponder the bond he feels to his native city, weeping at so many others like him now cursed in Hell... Yet much remained along the path of the Inferno...


United Kingdom

Penguin Classics:
(A nice edition which even has the original Italian on the left hand side of the page!)

Oxford World's Classics:
The Divine Comedy (Oxford World's Classics)
(Accessible and well annotated, also includes Purgatorio and Paradisio)

United States

Penguin Classics:
The Divine Comedy: Volume 1: Inferno (Penguin Classics) (Pt. 1)
(A nice edition which even has the original Italian on the left hand side of the page!)

Oxford World's Classics:
The Divine Comedy (Oxford World's Classics)
(Accessible and well annotated, also includes Purgatorio and Paradisio)

No comments:

Post a Comment