Thursday, March 26, 2009

...and onto something new.

Proof that Milkman is disgustingly immature:
"He himself did nothing. Except for the one time he had hit his father, he had never acted independently, and that act, his only one, had brought unwanted knowledge too, as well as some responsibility for that knowledge. ... but he felt put upon; felt as though some burden had been given to him and that he didn't deserve it. None of that was his fault, and he didn't want to have to think or be or do something about any of it." (page 120)
He's at least THIRTY, and yet he still refuses to accept responsibility – not blame, responsibility – for things that affect him. As a twelve-year-old, fine. But this man is thirty, approaching middle age. I guess this whole attitude is very reflective of his place and his opportunity/privilege. He has no need to take responsibility for anything, so why this, right? I dislike Milkman, I think, because he avoids everything around him, or he decides not to engage in anything or CARE about anything real. Like Guitar's political Passion: Milkman has none of that. (Buying a plane ticket out of Alabama, for example.) All he does is avoid situations, avoid hardship, avoid responsibility, emotion, etc. He's so stagnant, and it's so frustrating. I want him to care about something!
Apathy is probably THE most frustrating disease of the YOUTHS. At least when someone feels strongly about negative or wrong things you can fervently debate/hate them/have strong feelings back. With apathetic lame-os, they're just vegetables. What are you supposed to do about that?

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

These are my confess--impressions.

After adventuring through the depths of hell, I've left with some new impressions of the whole institution of HELL. When I first started reading, I was talking to Sam Macon about the existence of hell, and if it can really exist. Before I read, I was pretty confident that hell only existed for believers, and that it didn't apply to people who chose not to believe in it. (You know, imposing beliefs on other people...) ...I wasn't so sure in the midst of the first ten Cantos or so.

"As each of these was laboring to rake
His nails all over himself – scratching and digging
For the great fury of the itch they tried to slake,
Which has no other relief: their nails were snagging
Scabs from the skin as a knifeblade might remove
Scales from a carp, or as if the knife were dragging..."
Canto XXIX. lines 85-90

I had a dream last night about scabs and muck (and haybales...hmm). Dante's description of the punishments eat at me, particularly the punishment in Canto XXIX. 

...but onto Impressions. In class, we were talking about how it seems ridiculous that you'd get punished for ETERNITY, FOREVER, for just one lifetime's worth of sins. One lifetime! That doesn't even scratch the surface of forever. Reading The Inferno, I've been thinking a lot about space and time and things too big to actually grasp and wrap up tight in a box. Like forever, for instance. FOREVER. Aagh, I can't imagine having to live FOREVER. And by live, I mean have your soul exist, whether in heaven or hell. Either one. Lawd. I would much rather just zip into space, and then BAM be gone. Disappear. Not exist. Like Anne Sexton:
"...This is how / I want to die: / into that rushing beast of the night / sucked up by that great dragon, to split / from my life..." I'd just like to Not Exist in death; let it be done.
Is not existing after you've lived different than not existing before you're born?
Obviously, Dante's Inferno affects us, as readers, much differently than it affected readers in the 14th century. For me, it's been a thought-provoking story-in-a-story-in-a-story, etc. that's made me consider Always and Forever. It scares me, though, too, and I think that emotion is (was?) probably shared throughout centuries. I'm genuinely scared in the deep parts of me, in the crevices of my heart, the back of my head. I'm scared!

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Perché il Dante?

Why Dante? Not to be disgustingly obvious, but we have a natural infatuation with/fear of the unknown. I mean – the whole idea of an "after-life" must've evolved from this fear. We're afraid to not know, so we make up things to reassure ourselves that there's something beyond this life, and that we won't be thrown into nothingness after we die. Of course everybody wonders about all this mess, so it's always intriguing to read about other people's interpretations of what comes next, particularly when that other person happens to be the talented Dante. His description of hell is so in-depth, so detailed, that it answers a lot of questions one might have about hell: can you recognize people down there? are the punishments specific? are there different tiers? can you ever get out once you're there?

(A tangent: The only people that've been swept away to Heaven are limbo-ers, right? No one else has been, right? I think it'd be hypocritical if hell frolickers could be taken up to Heaven. They missed their chance. Eternity's eternity, man. Anyways...)

I hadn't ever really thought about what Hell was, and I think that's another reason why Dante's endured; I feel like few people stop to really develop an image of HELL in their heads and instead imagine it as just mass suffering, chaos. (Somebody said that in class once, I promise.) Dante's version is so concrete, so detailed, so rigid, that it feels more real, more plausible. The punishments, for example, are very specific: "Is the river of blood – in which boils everyone / Whose violence hurts others. ..." (Canto XII. lines 41-42) Every crime punishable in hell has a very specific punishment, an unnegotiable punishment. No circumstantial exceptions, or anything. This strictness is fascinating and more terrifying than the idea of just general suffering and chaotic pain. It's more gruesome and terrible, which are always crowd pleasers.

The story's many different angles/aspects also must have a part in the story's longevity. In the beginning, for example, Dante's about to embark on a journey. Already, this "journey" could be many things: a literal journey, a spiritual/internal journey or a poetic journey (to write the poem). With so many facets, the story can be read a number of different ways just as many times. This complexity takes more than one read to digest, and I feel like it'd get cooler and more interesting the more you reread it (I don't know, of course). Complex stories are always more long-lasting than simplistic ones.

Basically, Dante's imagery is stunning; we hunger for information regarding the unknown; there are SO many ways to get involved in the story; there are so many stories within this one; and Dante's hell is infinitely more creepy than the average Joe's, and you know that's always fascinating.

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

The engagement of my imagination has been temporarily called off.

"His face was just a man's face, outwardly kind,
And he was like a serpent all down his trunk.
He had two paws, both hairy to the armpits;
His back and breast and both sides down to the shank
Were painted with designs of knots and circlets."
Canto XVII. lines 9-13

Going back to the whole why-does-Dante-interweave-mysticism/mythology-with-Christianity thing...from reading the notes in the back of the book and just having a basic knowledge of Greek monsters, Dante's changed or edited all the traditionally Greek monsters he uses in hell. They're more grotesque in Dante's version, usually, or just stranger. Like Cerberus has three throats instead of three heads; this monster, according to the back of the book, was a giant with three heads and three bodies. Dante's representation of it is much more frightening and eerie/grotesque than the original. This almost parallels Christianity, in a way, or at least the rituals. Christians "adopted" pagan holidays so to entice potential converters, then reorganized the particular holiday to center around Christian themes (a la Easter and Christmas). Dante does the same thing, essentially: he uses the basic Greek monster, then molds it for his own purposes. Another case of weaving Christianity and paganism/mythology. I didn't expect Dante to do that, when I first started reading, and I've been surprised by the large number of Greek/Roman references.


"... He left her great with child,
Forlorn; and such guilt brings him torment in Hell,
Avenging Madea as well. ..."
Canto XVIII.

Throughout the poem, women have gotten the short end of the stick in Hell (obviously, naturally, figures). In the second circle (...I think?), when the pilgrim encounters the women who're in Hell even though their circumstances perhaps lessen the wrongs they've committed, they're still punished for that. BOOO EVE. But this is the first instance I've seen (or at least that I remember) where women aren't necessarily the bad ones, and the men are punished 'cause they did their ladies wrong! That Madea is avenged through Jason's pain and suffering seems uncharacteristic of Christianity in general (unless we're talking Catholicism) and the patterns of the poem (as far as sexism goes). Poor Mary. So ignored outside of Catholicism. Obviously, her situation is different than that of, say, Helen's, but still. Men: 203025093719. Women: 1.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Just because I'm losing ... may mean I'm lost.

"Nessus had not yet reached the other side
When we moved forward into woods unmarked
By any path. ..."
Canto XIII. lines 1-2

"Thickets that are as rough or dense as this."
line 8

The pilgrim begins the journey in the woods, lost. Dante reintroduces this woodsy image, of dark forests and thick, dim woods. The woods can be terrifying – everything looks the same, it's dark, it's easy to lose your sense of direction. This image is a good representation/symbol of Dante's feeling of loss, confusion. When the pilgrim finds himself in the woods, it's a negative thing. The woods are dark, sinister and feared. ...just like dark in general is equated with evil/horror. There's no path in the woods in Canto XIII – this is symbolic of Dante's feeling of abandonment, almost? I dunno if that's the right word. The whole idea of the pilgrim's feelings is exemplified by the idea of woods, the image of a dark forest. He's lost.


"... O vengeance of God, how much
Should you be feared by all of those who read
What my eyes saw! ..."
Canto XIV. lines 13-15

From what Dante has described, I get the impression that God is wrathful, vengeful. It seems unfair that the punishments are so black and white (like what we talked about in class), and that circumstances aren't taken into consideration when punishment is doled out. On that quiz we took, I said that morals aren't relative, and that each should be held to the same standards. I'm reconsidering that. I guess the game of Life (copyright Milton Bradley) is, in theory, pretty easy to play...as long as you act morally, follow the rules, BAM! you're in purgatory, on your way. But then there're the poor kids who just weren't baptized, or the folks that lived beforehand. What about them? I think that this intense wrath from God, and the intense punishments Dante describes, reflect the tenor of the church at that time...by emphasizing the horrors of hell, the church could get the people to pretty much do what they wanted (i.e. pay me and you can get rid of a sin...indulgences). This dramatic rendering of hell that was probably sold by the church to the masses is telling of the times (power struggle; control struggle). If the people feared the church, it's all the better for the people working within the church.

Monday, March 9, 2009

Charon, Minos, Cerberus, oh my!

"'For the triple sparks of envy, greed, and pride
Ignite their hearts.'"
Canto VI. lines 68-69

Three reappears everywhere. So far, we've got the lion, the leopard and the she-wolf; three-headed dog; triple sparks; I'm sure there're more I just can't remember. Then, naturally, there's THE threesome: father, son, holy ghost. The number three/things in triplets holds water both religiously as well as paganistically, contradictorily. Numerology is mystic...definitely not religious. According to Wikipedia, in numerology, three represents communication/interaction and neutrality. I'm not sure exactly how that fits into the story and Dante's journey. I'm sure I'll happen upon the relationship and find some convoluted way to justify that. Anyways, though, I think that this heavy use of three, of threesomes explores the relationship between intellectualism/mysticism and religion.


"Descends the grayish slopes until its torrent
Discharges into the marsh whose name is Styx."
Canto VII. lines 94-95

Dante makes countless references to Roman/Greek mythology throughout the text. He also notes the Greek philosophers' higher place in Limbo. I don't really understand the place of these references...are Christianity and mythology not in complete contradiction? It just seems strange that he would use all of these elements from Greek mythologies in the description of hell. I think he does, though, because of the narrative capabilities of the monsters he describes. Obviously, they've survived hundreds of years in stories and make the journey that much more epic. He makes the monsters more demonic it seems, though, editing them for his purposes. I'm not sure, though...

Beginning on this blogging journey, I found myself
In an empty classroom, the first post late.

"Midway on our life's journey, I found myself
In dark woods, the right road lost."
Canto I. lines 1-2

His journey is more internal for me than literal. Just from the first line, his surroundings [dark woods] and the fact that he's only in the middle of his life make it hard for me to read this as a literal journey. The dark woods, OF COURSE, are a metaphor...for a crisis in his life, or hard times or something along those lines? Later in the second Canto, when Virgil recalls Beatrice's visit...that cements this internality more. He's romanticized her, describing her as a holy being almost...he reveres her. In real life, Bea was a girl he'd lived next to as a kid [according to the notes in the back of the book], and he was obsessed with her [or something along those lines]. So obviously the description of her in Canto II is his interpretation of her, his feelings for her. That's so subjective that it can't be literal, can it? I dunno. I just get the impression that his journey is definitely an internal one more than an actually journey, is all.


"... Noah, and Moses the obedient
Giver of laws, went with Him, and Abraham
The patriarch. ...
... and His
Coming here made them blessed, and rescued them."
Canto IV. lines 46-51

It's frustrating that folks who lived before Christianity can only stay in Limbo, even if they lived so-called "virtuous" lives. When I first read the first five Cantos, his imagery and description made this hell seem so real and vivid, and true. But then this mess just is confusing and I get frustrated with the idea that kids who've not been baptized are stuck in Limbo with the fathers of Christianity! The guys who started the whole thing! I guess they were saved, but still.
[Is this too much of how I feel?]


"In dark woods, the right road lost. To tell
About those woods is hard – so tangled and rough
And savage that thinking of it now, I feel
The old fear stirring: ..."
Canto I. lines 2-5

The setting of The Inferno makes the whole thing seem realer than I think it is [see my first paragraph]. The feeling of the darkness, of the confusion mirrors Dante's internal struggle: "tangled and rough" describes the landscape/surroundings, but that also describes his feelings of confusion and deep grief. His surroundings seem so fantastical and therefore puzzling/unrealish. That imagery makes his journey so far all the more effective and gripping.