18. An Interpolated Episode: Limbo Unraveled
Limbo is already received Christian doctrine, but our poet is not above messing with orthodoxy.
Let’s talk through the notion of Limbo before and then in Dante’s day—and the ways our poet tosses Saint Thomas Aquinas and Saint Bonaventure into the bin to hearken back to an older (and maybe heretical?) notion on Limbo in COMEDY.
The segments of this episode of WALKING WITH DANTE:
[00:46] The basic definition of Limbo: from the Latin "limbus," a "hem."
[01:30] My interpretive framework: Everybody fences the world.
[05:18] In Dante's day, there were thought to be two sorts of Limbo: the one of the fathers and the one of the children (or babies).
[08:03] Wait! Who wants to punish babies? Well, Saint Augustine, for one.
[10:42] Saint Thomas Aquinas backs away and claims that babies are in Limbo but are "happy." To which Saint Bonaventure says, "Not so fast--not happy, but longing and unrest."
[14:16] The five ways Dante-the-poet changes Limbo to fit his poem.
There’s no specific passage from COMEDY in this episode.
FOR MORE STUDY
One possible correction:
In the episode, I spoke about the Eastern Orthodox church’s notion of Limbo as a battleground for Christ after the crucifixion. I then made reference to Saint Augustine as the “western” tradition of Limbo. Just to be clear, Augustine lived before the Great Schism between the eastern and western churches. But even before Augustine, a tradition of Limbo was developing in the East which eventually codified into the orthodox Christian doctrine. Augustine was part of a separate but linked strained of the doctrine that begins to develop in the West, setting it apart from the Eastern church, and ultimately leading to a somewhat different set of doctrines about Limbo after the Great Schism. I wasn’t implying that the Great Schism happened before Augustine lived.
Two interpretive issues:
To argue that Limbo is a “hem” or “border” because the word comes from the Latin “limbus” may well engage in what’s called the etymological fallacy: that a word’s root determines its present meaning. Language in no way works via etymology except for rare instances among insane poets like Shakespeare, and Milton (and maybe sometimes Dante!). But in this case, we can see the Latin word make its way into theological texts and so we can claim some more pressing derivation, simply because so many medieval church texts are written in Latin.
There is a problem with my interpretation that Limbo is definitely in hell. For the moment, I’m assuredly right. But ahead lies something that may color what place can and can’t be considered “in hell.” Yes, Limbo lies beyond Acheronte. (So if we want to push it, we have to imagine our esteemed Virgil throwing himself like a madman at Charon’s boat.) But it lies before a figure who sits at the front of Canto V, a figure who will determine each person’s place in hell. The damned in Limbo have never been judged by that figure and then tossed down the well to thud into one of the hell’s rungs. So there is a way Limbo is both in hell and not in hell. I still think my interpretation holds: Limbo is the first circle, no question. But as you’ll see, the poet Dante may be trying to have his cake and eat it, too.
In case you missed it, here are the five ways Dante changes Limbo:
He puts Limbo in hell (but see #2 just above for a quibble).
He appears uninterested in the babies of Limbo (or to put it another way, a way Aquinas might like, he sees no difference between the Limbo of the fathers and the Limbo of the babies).
He offers those in Limbo a single punishment: an intense longing (or “disio”—that is “desire”—as Virgil puts it at line 42).
He gets very close to jettisoning the notion of original sin (which would make Saint Augustine very uncomfortable).
And he ultimately makes Limbo something of a Paradise for his own poetic and philosophic fathers (as we’ll see ahead—although in do doing, he’s also then putting his creative forefathers in hell!).
One journaling prompt:
Who has made you rethink the fences of your world? Are you grateful or resentful for that person? Or both?