Thursday, June 9, 2011

That Infernal Dante


There is something remarkable about the transitional figures of the Renaissance.  Those peoples who evince characteristics of an age not their own, Dante, Francis,Giotto, and so on, seem to profess a kind of unexpected potency on their surroundings.  Their works, sculptures, art, texts, and theological contemplations exhibit many of the new and innovative characteristics later destined to become commonplace in the years to follow for the Renaissance.  Dante Alighieri portrays many of the attributes that we see common to the Renaissance period, including, but not limited to, an historical self consciousness, secularism, humanism, a utilization of tempered rationalism, and a revitalization and appreciation of the ancients.  Though we have but a few short excerpts from the beginning book of the Comedia, the Inferno, there are clear (and perhaps deliberately so) selections that evince a strong historical awareness of important individuals.  Not the least of which serves as Dante's guide through Hell, the great Greek poet who serves Dante in the underworld in a sense that ingeniously establishes a stark link between Dante's present and the Grecian past; a recurrent theme in Renaissance world.  It is also striking how the greats of the past end up: in a sort of Limbo location, these are the peoples of the past who worked up great deals of merit and merely made the mistake of being born prior to the capability of being baptized in the name of Christ.  Included amongst this group is Aristotle, Plato, Julius Caesar, a throng of grand poets (who "rightfully" welcome Dante as one of their own), and a host of other ancients, each equally unChristian as the last.  It makes sense that none of them are in heaven from a Christian perspective, though it perhaps betrays Dante's growing secular ideology in that he does not punish these non-believers in the pits of hell, but merely dooms them to the existence of perpetually wanting more.  His secularism begins to seethe through a bit more when we are confronted with decidedly Christian figures meeting sorts of punishment in the pits of the inferno, i.e. prior popes who did not act justly according to their authority.  This kind of shocking statement begins to evince Dante's transitional role as an entry way towards the Renaissance.  (here's a Florentine depiction of Dante to whet your appetite and perhaps dampen the dryness of my work a bit)
It is also worthy of mention that Dante's Inferno portrays a good deal of Creativity and Historical Self Consciousness.  Dante nearly realized the Italian language in opting to limn the works of Comedia in the accent of Latin (Italian that is) that was but a common language of the people.  This opened the door for centuries of authors and thinkers thereafter to release works in native vernacular, circumventing the issue of exclusion that came about through the sole utilization of Latin.  This may even connect to humanism because these people have entirely evaded hellish punishment via their own works, not through the action of God in/through Jesus!  This kind of thinking also evinces a certain action in the peoples in relation to other people instead of a central theme following peoples' relation to the church.  This reflects even further suggestions of secularism over the utterly divine centric mindset of the Middle Ages.  The clear reflection of soft rationalism is displayed in the sort of Aristotelean feel of the punishment each individual garners in the pits of the inferno.  Because people disrespected or ignored their own sense of rationalism, because those suffering therein were receiving torture reflecting or directly opposite to the lack of rational life they employed.  This process produces something interesting: Dante serves as a model for the Italian Renaissance in many ways, a kind of mold that is broken for him is imitated and (perhaps) improved upon in several castings for other important Renaissance figures.  The ensuing Renaissance will have been forever changed at the hands of yet another citizen of Firenze.

No comments:

Post a Comment