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.

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