Dante's vision of the Afterlife

Dante’s concept of paradise is like a rose–earth in the center, with concentric heavenly spheres radiating outward like petals on a rose. All of the heavenly spheres have a planetary theme: the Moon, Mercury, Venus, the Sun (yes, it was the 1300s and Dante was a poet), Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, the “fixed stars”, i.e. the Zodiac, and the “Primum Mobile”. All of these spheres are sort of floating around in a concept of space called the Empyrean, a.k.a. God.

Many things have been said about Dante’s vision of heaven, with emotions ranging from reverence to rage. I agree with commentator Mary Campbell when she rages against the strict order of Paradiso.

“This narrator is an implacable taxonomist, who knows exactly how much heaven to dole out to whom, who can only imagine the sublime of transcendence as a set of gradations and promotions, of places we will know and keep.”*

I see her point, and to some extent brush it off on the grounds that the Dante narrator is pretty much a self-righteous jerk throughout the Commedia, putting his enemies in Hell and his benefactors in Heaven, that sort of thing.

What I appreciate about Paradiso is its contribution to Dante’s overall structure of the afterlife/otherworld. Hell is a concentric ring, too, but each ring gets deeper and more painful with more souls squashed in tighter together. At the centermost ring, the bottom of the pit of Hell, lies Satan, arguably the most tormented soul in the entirety of Hell. Dante’s Heaven is built in reverse: Still concentric circles, but the further out you get, the closer you get to God or Divine Revelation. In terms of structure, I think it’s a beautiful image, a constant cosmic expansion as a way to touch the divine.

***

On another note entirely, transcribing is hard. I salute the fine people who do it for a living. I have transcribed about 1.2 of the Paradiso interviews, and will post the first part of the first one tomorrow. In deference to Dante, I am choosing one of the planets to be the theme of each interview. In deference to my own schedule, I am not posting them in order of Dante’s rings. I am starting out with an interview that I decided most closely matches the theme of Justice, which Dante explores in the sphere of Jupiter.

And so! Tomorrow: Justice.

*from an essay by Campbell originally published in The Poet’s Dante; ed. Peter S. Hawkins and Rachel Jacoff; Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, 2001.

Let me tell you about a project I once did. I funded it with grant money, which means it must be good, right?

The original concept was grand and sweeping: A three-part graphic novel script based on Dante’s Divine Comedy (in my head I imagined all of the issues, bound together as one large and epic trade paperback with all three stories running parallel to each other). In reality I finished part one (Inferno) and drew out the first issue. Still! It’s a great concept, and I enjoy playing with it from time to time.

In the original Divine Comedy, Dante* writes himself walking through Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise, guided by various supernatural entities. The Dante character is quite fallible and affected by his spiritual journey and surroundings. For example, he becomes a total jerk as he descends farther into Hell, and saves face as he ascends the mountain of Purgatory.

In my version, I have a character called Annie, like to me in personality and hometown, but unlike me in family circumstance. (Somehow she sprouted a three-child catholic family. Her siblings are kind of like Jungian personality aspects of her. Don’t ask me, I just wrote it down.) I’m not the first one to think of a modernized Dante story. The illustration at the top is from a series by Sandow Birk, a radically modern translation with amazing illustrations that parody some of the original woodcuts.

The overall structure of my tale goes like this: Hell is childhood. Purgatory is young/middle adulthood. Paradise is age. Certainly as a young adult about to graduate college, I felt like I was standing at the base of Mt. Purgatory, getting ready to climb.

So I wrote what I knew: Conifer, Colorado. Childhood. Hell. I have a script for all of my version of Inferno. Who knows, I may get ’round to drawing the rest of it. I am afraid I’ll have to start over: I have the script but the drawings are in an archive in Colorado and I believe the original scans of the drawings disappeared in the Great Computer Theft of ’07. Serves me right for not backing them up, eh?

But in the meantime, I wanted to share excerpts of the research I did on Paradiso. What research, you ask? I interviewed various people over 50 about their take on the nature of Paradise, not the heavenly concept so much as the earthly one. I also asked them how their definition of success had changed since they were 20…that was a healthy thing for a 20 year old to be asking when she’d be plunged into the “real world” the next year…

So, over the rest of January, I am going to listen to and blog about these interviews. I will post selected edited transcripts as well; clearly, I’m not going to use the names of the people I interviewed, as my permission does not extend that far. Perhaps they can get names from Paradiso instead.

Until the next interview from Paradise….

*Note: Dante is one of the only literary figures who had a first and a last name, but GOES BY HIS FIRST NAME. We don’t even call Shakespeare “William”. But Dante is not “Alighieri”, he’s “Dante.” How cool is that? He’s like the Madonna of the 1300s.

In my novel, Freedomland, I write about a dystopian future in which society is controlled by colorful animated advertising that displays on people’s technological implants.
One out of two…check.

Here’s the explanation from the creators, alt.CES.

When I was a kid, I was a ruiner of lunchboxes. I’d leave them full of tupperware containers for a day, then two…then I’d be afraid to open them because of the scary mold. Then I’d think after a week or so, oh CRAP I’d really better clean out my lunchbox…but the mold is probably stinky and funny colors by now, so I can’t possible touch it…

Anyway. Blogging is a little bit like that. *embarrassed cough*

So. I did, in fact, finish my NaNoWriMo novel. While I didn’t like the finished project as much as the one from last year, a.k.a. November Girls, I did meet a character whom I totally love, and there are a few snappy scenes that I can work with. So all in all, I’m glad I NaNo’ed again.

My current projects include continuing to revise November Girls and applying to various higher education thingies, i.e. various MFAs and the Clarion West writer’s workshop. I’m applying with a section from Freedomland; we’ll see what happens!

If you want small juicy morsels of creative writing, check out TypeTrigger. I mentioned it before, and I’ll mention it again. It’s like badass literary twitter. Why follow Snooki on twitter when you could follow me on TypeTrigger? Seriously. It’s in beta right now; the public site release date is January 20th. World: be prepared for amazingness.

Day 7: 3,000 words.
Day 8: 300 words.

Sigh. Days with work AND class are rough. It’ll all even out somewhere.

NaNo Day 5: 500ish words before bedtime. Did the rest of my homework for class, too. Turns out all I want to do on a Friday night is sleep. Does that mean I’m a real adult now?

NaNo Day 6: Woke up to write. Wrote. Cleaned the kitchen. Talked to my roommate about fairies.  The ultra-rad Kat Vellos came and brought me delicious food. Wrote more. Freaked out and went outside for a while. Wrote more. Got distracted by writing revisions for my other piece. Got distracted by watching the entirety of The Guild. Ordered pizza. Wrote a tiny bit more, then gave up and went to bed. Total word count so far: 9,200ish.

So, my conversation with the roommate about fairies was pretty funny. I started talking about changeling stories and all the horrible things that people are supposed to do to a changeling child in order to get their own child back from the fairies: beating, exposure, burning, etc. My roommate commented how gruesome that was.

“I thought fairies were supposed to be nice,” he said. I talked about some choice bits from changeling tales, like how you’re supposed to stick hot pokers down a child’s throat if you suspect them to be a changeling, or else you can hang a pair of open iron scissors above their bed.

“I thought you were just supposed to clap,” he said. “I mean, Peter Pan’s nice, right?”

 ”Peter Pan is the spirit of an unbaptized crib death. That’s what all the Lost Boys really are. Ghosts of dead children.”

Okay, I’ll admit it. I’m a little disillusioned about fairies. I was that kid that loved the Flower Fairy books and had a big crush on Legolas–from the book, I’ll have you know, even before Orlando Bloom. Then I started reading lots of actual fairy tales, plus a little Bruno Bettleheim, Neil Gaiman, and Terry Pratchett. I think my current thoughts on fairies can be well summed-up by a passage from Terry Pratchett’s Lords and Ladies:

“Elves are wonderful. They provoke wonder.
Elves are marvellous. They cause marvels.
Elves are fantastic. They create fantasies.
Elves are glamorous. They project glamour.
Elves are enchanting. They weave enchantment.
Elves are terrific. They beget terror.
The thing about words is that meanings can twist just like a snake, and if you want to find snakes look for them behind words that have changed their meaning.
No one ever said elves are nice.
Elves are bad.”

Here’s to writing more bad romance with fairies! Huzzah!

Plugged away and wrote 1,000ish words, now I’m going to bed.

Horrible prose sins I have comitted:
*unnecesary said tags
*locomotion writing
*ill-placed lengthy flashbacks which interrupt the flow of narrative.

BUT! I am aware that I am committing these sins, which is important. Plus, you can get a NaNoWriMo merit badge for padding your word count, so that’s something.

There once was a girl from Seattle
Who refused to give in to death’s rattle
When it came to her prose,
So she said, “I suppose
that I’ll write a lot of really craptactular scenes using just the sort of terrible clunky prose that I’m carefully editing away from in November Girls, but it’s all okay because I’m up to par on word count.

Five hundred-ish words.
A day filled with homework, but
no class tomorrow.

Wrote over my lunch hour*. Stayed up inadvisably late to finish my word count. Today was a class day, so that made it harder.

Total word count: 1,670. I am right on par.

*”You writing a paper?”
“Novel.”
“What, in here?” (vague expression of panic, as if novel-writing were a sacred activity to be carried out in monasteries or on giant oak desks, and having it in the staff lounge is blasphemy.)
“When the hell else do I have time?”
“You can focus?”
“…sorta.”