2. Finding Yourself Lost: INFERNO, Canto I, Lines 1 - 9

A middle-aged man finds himself lost in a dark wood.

A middle-aged man finds himself lost in a dark wood.

We’re at the opening lines of the greatest work of Western literature . . . okay, to date, if you must qualify it.

A dark wood, a man alone, and a mid-life crisis . . . not his, but ours.

Our journey may start in incredibly imaginative ways, but this poem’s opening has roots back to the Bible.

The segments of this episode of WALKING WITH DANTE:

[01:09]  Why would you want to walk with Dante?

[03:39]  Who am I? This podcast has been brewing for years.

[05:56]  At first glance, why are the opening lines so strange, even off-putting?

[14:12]  Does Dante's poem open "in medias res"? That is, "in the middle of things"?

[16:23]  Who's journey is this? Who is this "I"? And how can this "I" write this journey into the wilds of the universe?

[21:57]  What's the point of Dante's COMEDY?

My English translation of INFERNO, Canto I, lines 1 - 9:

In the middle of the journey of our life

I found myself in a dark wood

For the straight way was lost.

 

Ah, how hard it is to say what

That wood was, so savage and gnarled and hard

That such a thought brings back my fear.

 

It is so bitter that death is hardly more so—

But to discuss the good I found there

I will tell the other things I saw.

FOR MORE STUDY

A translation issue:

Line 8 isn’t as simple as it seems. In the medieval Florentine, the line is “ma per trattar del ben ch’i vi trovai.” One problem lies with that opening: “ma per trattar”—literally, “but to set forth” or “but to lay out” or even “but to develop.” Although the poet claims he wants to “set forth” the good, he doesn’t give us any clue what will be set forth to get to that good. He only states the final purpose. Which is saying a lot without saying much at all. What’s more, there seems to be a tension between “trattar” in line 8 and “diró” (“I will tell”) in line 9. What’s the difference between setting something forth and merely saying it? What if whatever you tell and why you tell it are at odds with each other? Does that then alter the story you’re telling?

Two interpretative issues:

  1. At line 3, Dante claims that the straight way had been lost. But saying it that way reverses the valencies of Christian imagery. The straight way is the way to salvation, right? Or so it goes according to Proverbs 2:15 and The Gospel of Luke 3:4-5. We might think that the straight way is what the pilgrim will eventually find, but it seems as if he’s about to set off on another path . . . we might even say a crooked path (if we keep to that pairing common in Christian imagery). If this is the crooked path, wouldn’t it lead to damnation? Does this new (or crooked?) path involve only what happens in this first canto of INFERNO—that is, until someone arrives toward the end of the canto to put our pilgrim on the right road? Or is the whole walk across the known universe the crooked path that leads to God?

  2. Dante’s poem is set in the time of war. How might that unrest inform or shape these opening lines? What does war or civil unrest do to the imagination?

A journaling prompt:

Dante begins his story “in the middle” of his life. If you had to begin your story at a mid-point in your life, which moment would you choose? Without going back to your parents or childhood, which moment in your adult life would be the beginning of your story? Why is that moment the beginning? And how does starting there change how you tell your story . . . and even your story itself?