Dante's Hidden God

INFERNO, CANTO 5 ...I came to a place mute of light, that howled like a sea whipped by opposing winds. The infernal tempest snatches the spirits, whirls them, knocks them about. I realized that these were the lustful, who submit reason to desire. Like flocks of starlings tossed in the windy sky In winter, so that wind whipped spirits round, Knocking them left and right, now low, now high, No hope of a lull, or even slowing down. And as the cranes fly, chanting steady tones, Forming long sweeping streams that stripe the sky, So souls came on, with miserable moans, Carried by that which they were punished by. 'Master, I wish I could speak with those two over there, who seem so light on the wind.' 'When they come closer, ask them, for the love that bears them, and they'll come.' The wind soon brought them, and I raised my voice: 'O weary souls, come speak to us, if another does not forbid you.' As doves with firm, raised wings move to their desired nest, so through the evil air came these two to my yearning cry. 'O kindly gracious soul, In darkness visiting us Who dimmed the world with red, Were Heaven's king our friend, We'd pray him for your peace Who pity our dreary pain. Of what you wish to hear We'll hear and speak with you While there's a pause in the wind. The land where I was born Is close beside the sea, Where the Po flows down to peace. Love, that is quickly learned By every gentle heart, Took hold of this man here For the comely form I lost -- The manner hurts me still. Love, which never allows The loved one not to love, Took hold of me in turn So fast that, as you see, It will not let me go. Love led us to one death. Deep Hell awaits our killer.' Hearing those anguished souls, I dropped my eyes so low, My guide said, 'What are you thinking?' 'Alas, what tender thoughts, What sweet desires destroyed them!' Then turning to the pair, 'Francesca, your distress For pity makes me weep. But tell me: when you still Were sighing, how did Love Manage to let you learn Each of the other's secret?' And she, 'No greater sorrow Than happiness recalled In misery -- ask your teacher. But if you long to know The origin of our love, I will speak through my tears. We read one day for pleasure How love bound Lancelot. We two were quite alone And free from all suspicion. Several times our eyes Met, and our faces paled. One moment, though, did all. When we read how the Queen's Desired smile was kissed By so superb a lover, This one, who will not be Divided from me ever, Kissed my mouth, all trembling. Galehaut was the book As well as he who wrote it. That day we read no further.' And all the while the spirit was replying, The other wept with such distressing sound, I lost my senses as if I were dying, And fell like a dead body to the ground. ______ The love of Paolo and Francesca continues to divide critics into those who sympathize and those who condemn -- and those who do both; for Dante sends mixed signals. He shows himself overcome with pity -- yet the pair are in Hell. A Trinitarian perspective will not resolve this tension, but asks the question another way: how much is this love a false parody, and how much is it an (unripe) expression of the Holy Spirit? The key image is surely the wind, like the 'rushing mighty wind' that blew through the house at Pentecost (Acts2.2). 'The Spirit (or wind) blows where it likes' (John 3.8). But this wind is not like the Spirit: it is violent, chaotic, without form or purpose. Clearly it expresses the blind, unmerciful force of erotic passion -- yet has that no kinship with the love of the Spirit? Dante in his youth wrote in a tradition of love poetry -- and himself greatly developed that tradition -- that tried to refine and spiritualize erotic love. Francesca speaks in that style, which is embarrassing for Dante, for she seems to be quoting his own poetry back at him, and look where it has brought her! She says love was an imperious master she could not disobey, just as Dante in La Vita Nuova showed Love as a lord of terrible aspect. Yet Dante will go on to show his own young love for Beatrice eventually leading him to God. Francesca takes no responsibility for her actions: she blames love, the book, her husband. Yet as De Sanctis pointed out long ago, many readers like her better than Beatrice. Much of the controversy about her seems to come from the fact that we do not know in what tone she is speaking. Is it self-justifyingly petulant? Does she exult in her passion? Does she report with hateful joy that her killer husband is far deeper in Hell than she, as some have claimed, or rather with sorrow, as another tragic consequence of her passion? Is she angry with the book that overcame her? (Galehaut served as go-between for Lancelot and Guinevere, but it was an honourable courtly function, not like a 'pander'.) It seems to many that Dante has given her a quiet, modest voice. She bitterly regrets, if she cannot repent. Yet she still loves Paolo! If the Spirit is implicitly present, even in disguise, there may be hope for these unhappy but perhaps well-meaning lovers. The possibility allows Dante to pose a question without answering it.