By Matthew Fiorentino
I lie face up, engulfed in flames and anguish within a despondent
field of open tombs. The only light comes from the crimson glow
of burning graves. Cries of indescribable pain sweep through my
sepulcher without relent. The scent of roasting flesh is pervasive
and constant. I can't stand it. Not far from my torment are the
monolithic walls of the City of Dis, fortified with ramparts of
iron. The terrible furies are perched atop the walls, tearing at
their bare chests with their treacherous claws, screaming for blood.
The infamous Medusa is their leader.
This is my eternity. This is my punishment. This is Dante's sixth
circle.
Dante is the pinnacle of Western Literature. His Divine Comedy
is considered by many as the finest literary production ever
to emerge from European culture. Its influence is sweeping and profound:
many forms of literature, including fiction, memoir and lyrical
poetry find their genesis between Dante's Heaven and Hell.
He was one of the very first to write in the vernacular, breaking
the iron shackles that chained literary works to Latin. His works
popularized Italian, creating a standard for the language. So when
you say, "Ma questo scrittore e' tutto scemo,"
your words contain remnants of the Tuscan ink that flowed from Dante's
pen in the 14th century. This is why he's called the father of Italian
language.
It was this language that created the terrifying and infamous
scenes of the poet's journey through Hell, followed by sojourns
to Purgatory and Heaven. In fact, the language Dante uses reflects
each region of the afterlife: the deeper he goes into Hell, the
more violent and harsh his language becomes. In Heaven, we find
the opposite effect. The language here is what Dante considers to
be the language of paradise: immaculate, lyrical, mellifluous, beautiful,
perfect. It's so ethereal that many people have trouble understanding
the celestial imagery. Purgatory, residing between good and evil,
is thought to demonstrate the best example of 14th century Italian.
The three layers of postmortem poetry are based on what people
did in life. Heaven is divided by beatific actions. Purgatory is
separated by redeemable sins. Hell is structured around circles
for each type of sin, malice, or perfidy against god. There are
nine circles in all, each spiraling downward, growing smaller with
every level, until reaching the frozen chambers of Lucifer in the
greatest depths of Hell, the ninth circle.
The first circle is Limbo, reserved for virtuous people living
before Christ, including Dante's guide Virgil, Homer, Horace, Ovid,
Socrates, and Plato, and for children dying without sin. The second
circle, the true beginning of Hell, is for the lustful, who are
blown about in tempestuous winds. The third lodges gluttonous souls,
who roll around in a slush-filled swamp, pounded by rain and hail,
devouring disgusting mud. The fourth circle contains the prodigal
and avaricious, who share a Sisyphus-like fate, pushing boulders
and crashing into one another for eternity, screaming, "Why
do you hoard?" and "Why do you squander?" at each
other. The fifth circle houses the wrathful and sullen, who are
doomed to perpetual immersion in the Styx, the river of hate, thrashing
and biting at each other within the sludge. The seventh is reserved
for the violent souls and is divided into three rings for the three
types of violence: violence against a neighbor, violence against
yourself, and violence against god and nature. The eighth circle
is the most extensive, consisting of ten ditches for the ten different
types of fraud. The ninth circle is the most horrendous and terrifying,
entombed in ice, reserved for treachery -- the most heinous of the
sins -- with traitors to kin, traitors to the homeland, traitors
to guests, and traitors to benefactors. Lucifer is at the bottom
of the ninth circle, guilty of the greatest treachery of all --
treachery against god -- stripped of all intelligence and beauty,
roaring incomprehensibly, flapping his giant wings and freezing
the entire circle, and chewing a sinner in each of his three mouths
in each of his three faces: Judas, who betrayed Christ, and Brutus
and Cassius, who betrayed Caesar.
The sixth circle, my fate, is reserved for the heretics. I was
condemned to this fiery suffering not by Dante, but by an online
quiz of 72 questions based on Dante's categorization of sins. Examples
of questions include: Are you good at telling lies? Do you intentionally
cause harm to yourself? Do you read scripture? Have you ever taken
pleasure in someone else's misery? Do you have any pagan religious
beliefs? Simple questions, but be careful about how you answer:
your eternity depends on it.
For Dante, heretics were people who followed the beliefs of Epicurus,
who believed that the body and soul could not survive without each
other:
Within this region is the cemetery
of Epicurus and his followers,
all those who say the soul dies with the body.
(Translated by Allen Mandelbaum, Inferno, 10. 13-15.)
Epicurus was a Greek philosopher who said, "Pleasure is the
beginning and end of the blessed life." He was talking about
food: He believed that it was always best to be in a state of moderate
fullness. In fact, the word 'epicure' means someone who thoroughly
enjoys good food and wine. His religious beliefs derive from his
belief in atoms, which leads to thinking that the soul is material.
When someone dies their soul is released from the body in the form
of atoms, losing all sensation since the body can no longer interpret
its messages. He said, "Death is nothing to us; for that which
is dissolved is without sensation, and that which lacks sensation
is nothing to us." Now he and his friends burn in fiery tombs.
But why open burning tombs? Every punishment in Dante's Hell is
a contrapasso, which is the punishment contrary to the sin.
Some of the contrapassi are more straightforward. The gluttonous
in the third circle idolized food over god during their lives, therefore
they are condemned to eat mud for eternity. The lustful in the second
circle are blown about just as they were in life, unable to control
themselves, in a hopeless search of fulfilling their insatiable
carnal appetites. Count Ugolino in the ninth circle, who betrayed
his children by eating them, must eat the skull and brains of the
man who betrayed him.
These punishments reflect physical sins, which are relatively
simple to punish, whereas heresy is a sin much more complex to mirror.
But Dante isn't Dante for nothing, and he produces a frighteningly
devious contrapasso for those who shun the power of the Almighty.
As we've already covered, the sin of the Epicureans is that they
didn't believe the soul could rise from the body after death and
enter Heaven. This belief is fundamental to the Christian faith:
Christ resurrected and returned home to paradise. Without Christ's
resurrection, no one can be resurrected, no one can enter paradise,
no one can live immortally with god. This is the foundation of Christianity.
And with the Epicureans negating this foundation, their souls are
forced to lie in open tombs, supine, looking up towards the heavens
they forsook, never able to rise, burning eternally in the fires
of Hell. And, apparently, I'm right there with them.
I just hope that for my sake Dante was wrong.
What's your fate? Visit 4degreez.com
to find out.
|