Delighting in Dante

C.S. Lewis taught that one of the most helpful reading strategies is to “wear” an author. Sounds weird right? Basically, what he meant was that you don’t have to share an author’s worldview to read and enjoy them. But you do have to try that worldview on. Therefore, when I read Plato I try my best to try on the view of an Athenian Platonist. When I read an atheist like Christopher Hitchens I try and wear his worldview as well even though I personally find it repugnant. I don’t have to feel comfortable doing it. But if I would benefit from them I must endeavor to see the world as they see it. I think this is a great word for us today especially in our cancel culture. We tend to read, looking for a fight. The second we see one, we will close the book, crumple the note, or throw the paper in the bin. I think this is a desperately sad mistake because if we never consider things from another point of view then how will we ever grow? And for that matter, how will we ever criticize? In order to criticize anything we must first state the other person’s ideas in such a way that they would say “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.” How can we ever do that if we don’t endeavor to understand them first?

As I have been thinking through writing publicly on the classics, especially Dante, it is probably worth saying at the beginning that he and I are relatively close in our understanding of ultimate reality. But this doesn’t mean that you must be too. I’m trying to write for all of us, Christians and non, in hopes that one of the most delightful works in the history of western literature would have its day in the sun here in Fayette County. I think he will bring joy to anyone who will give him the time of day. We need Dante. So, I’m doing my best to keep in mind the folks that are, if you’ll permit the saying, on the other side of the aisle. I’ll do my best to make room for you. But I’d like to exhort you to do something as we read together. Try on Dante’s glasses for a bit and try to see the world as he sees it. Forget his glasses. Maybe put in his eyes for a bit. I think you will find he has beautiful vision that can enhance your own.

In case this is your first time through Dante’s Inferno let me explain that, according to this great poet, Hell has a very important geography. If you think of a mountain in reverse, you will be headed in the right direction. The highest circle of Hell is the biggest and is located just below earth’s ground level. The lowest circle is the smallest and the deepest. There, at the very center of Earth, stands Satan, frozen in Hell’s lowest circle...in a lake... called Cocytus. I won’t give too much away here, but you do not want to miss that picture. We will cross a few rivers and eavesdrop on several conversations along the way as Dante works his way down through each circle. While none of these things are for the faint of heart, we will meet with quite a bit of laughter on the way.

It is also imperative that you know something about sin if you would understand this work. Each circle of Hell is defined by a particular sin and contains the departed spirits, Dante loves the word shades, of people whose lives were famously marked by these sins. They are suffering punishments that fit their crime and we are encouraged to observe all these things so that we could understand the nature of divine justice. In Dante there are seven deadly sins that can be remembered easily enough by the acronym P.E.W.S.A.G.L…. which stands for pride, envy, wrath, sloth, avarice (greed for the rest of us) gluttony, and lust. For Dante these sins are stacked in order of worst to, well I can’t say best, so… least/worst. How different Dante’s “sin scale” is than our own! Today, the church seems to target lust as the “el jefe” sin. But for Dante lust is the least serious. For him, pride is the root of all evil. I think he is right…but I digress.

We didn’t make much progress in the work this week, but it seemed fitting, now that we are good and underway, that I should probably give a bit of context to our readings. Again, you don’t have to be a Christian to love this work. Admittedly, Dante was one, and a thumping serious one at that. But he is still worth reading even if you call “rubbish” what he called precious. So, what say you? Are you willing to try him on for a bit?