PARADISO

Author: Dante Alighieri
Year: 1968 (1321)
Publisher: Rabén & Sjögren
Language: Swedish (Translator Aline Pipping)

Having traversed the tear-filled mountain of purgatory and imbibed the truths of salvation, Dante is finally ready to see paradise. In the culminating part of the Divine Comedy, “Paradiset” (“Paradiso”), Dante is allowed to journey among the stars and the planets to the sanctified domain of the eternally blessed. His companion in the last two books, the poet Virgil, now has to remain behind relinquishing custody of the wanderer to Beatrice, Dante’s one and only true love and the paragon of earthly purity. Beatrice is not the wise and experienced cicerone of her own power like Virgil had been in the past. Rather, by her angelic innocence she channels all the virtues of a saint through the love of God, including beatific vision and complete comprehension. With a gentle hand, she picks up the mantle where Virgil’s wisdom no longer suffices, and illuminates Dante’s path with the ethereal light of heavenly guidance.

In contrast to the circles or spheres in hell and purgatory, paradise is organised among the celestial bodies known to Dante in his time. Beginning with the moon and then travelling from one planet to the next, Dante is faced with philosophical and exegetic conundrums which he discusses with various denizens of this world and sometimes directly with Beatrice. His conversations have been scrutinised and dissected countless of times through each era following its creation, rendering any attempt on my part to explain it futile. “Paradiset” is famously complex and metaphysical, often balancing on the brink of the incomprehensible. The poetry is more entangled and the symbolism more abstract and impenetrable than in the preceding two books. But in all of this, Dante brings forth some intriguing doctrinal reflections.

In Canto 7, he asks Beatrice why Jesus had to endure the agony of the cross when God in all his might could have chosen any other method to reconcile with His creation. The answer that Dante arrives at appears to respond to St Anshelm’s meditations on the same issue in his book Cur Deus Homo from two centuries prior. Whereas Anshelm frames the dilemma as “either punishment or sacrifice”, Dante proposes “either forgiveness or sacrifice” and then fuses them together to an argument where we as humans are too bankrupt to offer satisfaction but too proud to seek forgiveness. God does both of that for us, Dante says, out of his love for us by offering himself as sacrifice in the name of forgiveness.

Canto 13 struck a particular chord with me as it discusses the reasons why some humans, although being the fruit from the same tree, do not enjoy the same intellectual capacity as others.

For very low among the fools is he                 
Who affirms without distinction, or denies,
As well in one as in the other case;

Because it happens that full often bends
Current opinion in the false direction,
And then the feelings bind the intellect.

Far more than uselessly he leaves the shore,
(Since he returneth not the same he went,)
Who fishes for the truth, and has no skill*

Dante knew human nature well and he would probably not be surprised by the lamentable state of human comprehension seven centuries hence. The first verse in the quote decries the lack of critical thinking, the second speaks of how emotions are allowed to trump facts and logic, and the third indicts the schooling system for having failed to equip the citizens with the appropriate tools and skillsets to discern truth from deception. Dante would probably feel oddly at home amidst the cacophony of 21 century social media which has perversely elevated all the above embarrassments to virtues of the imbecilic majority.  

On a more positive note, Canto 25 is what can best be described as the canto of hope. It stands to reason that Inferno would be a place where there is no hope. The souls here have removed themselves eternally from God’s face, choosing instead to wallow in the putrid swamps of their own perpetual misery. Purgatorio, by contrast, is filled with patience and trust rather than hope as every soul is assured admission to paradise once they have been properly prepared. Paradise, at last, is where all hope comes to fruition. Hope, after all, can only be relevant where there is a disunion between a desired position and the status quo. The souls that have already entered here thus have no more need for hope, enjoying already their eternal reward. So, the only place for hope seems to be earthly life.

And yet, Dante chose to locate his canto about hope in Paradise. My personal interpretation leans toward the suggestion that it is Dante’s own hope that serves as the vantage point for this meditation. The canto opens with Dante expressing his fervent wish to one day return to his native Florence, whence he had been expelled into exile by his political adversaries. This is the hope of a living man, a mere a visitor to paradise. Against this backdrop, Dante may intellectually probe the nature of hope. The choice of doing so in paradise may be connected to paradise being the desire of every true Christian and only through its union with faith and love can hope lead to salvation, and only then becoming meaningful.

A general observation can be made about the tone Dante chooses to employ in each part of the Divine Comedy. In Inferno (see my review from February 2024) the graphic portrayal of the damned souls’ torture and torment and the meticulous depiction of their wickedness and Satan’s malevolence are strikingly vivid. In Purgatorio (see my review from March 2024), the narrative shifts to a poignant exposition of the souls’ grief and remorse, alongside the hardship that they have to endure in order to cleanse themselves of their earthly sins. “Paradiset”, however, departs from this visceral imagery. We are not treated to visual representations of God’s glory, the eternal bliss or sublime light. These elements all subtly suggested but never explored. Instead, Dante opts for an intellectual and philosophical lecture on Christian ethics and abstract musings on the theoretical benevolence of God.

Given Dante’s brilliance as a poet, I am compelled to conclude that this difference is not by choice but by necessity. Could it be that the Western tradition has so richly cultivated the language, symbols, and imagery to depict evil, suffering, torture, and regret, yet tragically neglected to develop corresponding linguistic and cultural tools to convey harmony, bliss, happiness, and splendour befitting paradise? If so, such a linguistic impoverishment in the face of celestial glory would speak volumes about our priorities and limitations as a civilization. Perhaps we are simply better prepared for Inferno than we will ever be for Paradise. After all, we can reach the former on our own merit, but require God's intervention to enter the latter. 

"Paradiso" proved to be unequivocally the most challenging of the trilogy, demanding a profound acquaintance with medieval politics, philosophy, and symbolism. It necessitated an investment of time, concentration, and dedication. Nevertheless, amidst these demands, it remains an eminently rewarding endeavour, its treasures undiminished by the troubles of its pursuit.

*The Divine Comedy, Translated by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Ticknor and Fields, Boston, 1867