35. O, Fortuna: INFERNO, Canto VII, Lines 67 - 96
Jean Pichore, Lady Fortune and her Wheel, c. 1503, manuscript illumination, tempera and gold on parchment
After he has seen the clerics in the fourth circle of hell, Dante wants to know why some have so much while others have so little. Why does scarcity rule this earth?
Enter Boethius!
Or Boethius in Virgil’s mouth. Virgil offers a sermon on the goddess Fortune.
This passage is always read as boiler-plate medieval thought. But it may be much more than that. The poet is up to more than just rehearsing what he’s read. And he’s left some interpretive knots to indicate that the standard answer may not be all it seems.
If you were in a Dante seminar, this passage would be glossed as a simple statement about how scarcity operates in this world. I don’t think it’s simple at all!
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The segments for this episode of WALKING WITH DANTE:
[01:03] I read all of INFERNO, Canto VII through this passage: lines 67 - 96. To find my English translation, discover a deeper study guide, or even continue the conversation with me about this passage by dropping a comment, scroll down this page.
[06:39] A series of glosses on this passage to explain some of the more opaque lines.
[13:00] Stepping back, let's look at Virgil's sermon. First off, it's from Boethius' work ON THE CONSOLATION OF PHILOSOPHY. This (pseudo-)orthodox work causes some cracks in Dante's poem.
[20:25] Four interpretive stances you can take to Virgil's sermon on Fortune: 1) Virgil is wrong, 2) Virgil is right (because his character in COMEDY is changing), 3) Virgil is right but within limits, and 4) this passage isn't about Virgil but is the start of the progress of revelation in COMEDY.
My English translation INFERNO, Canto VII, lines 67 - 96 (although in the episode, I go back and read the entire canto again to give you a running start):
“My master,” I said, “now tell me further:
This Fortune that you just touched on for me?
What is she, with the world’s beneficence clutched in her arms?”
And he to me: “O crazy creatures,
How great is the ignorance that makes you stumble!
I wish you would quaff my judgment.
“That one whose wisdom transcends everything
Created the heavens and gave them their guides
So that each part would shine in another part,
“Distributing all the light equally.
In just such a way, when it comes to the world’s splendors,
He ordained a general minister and leader
“To temporarily circulate all the world’s empty beneficence,
From people to people, and from one race to another,
Beyond the interference of any human might,
“So that one people rules and another withers away,
All in accord with the judgment of this one,
Who is hidden like a snake in the grass.
“Your knowledge is no match for hers:
She foresees, judges, and pursues
Her reign as the other gods do theirs.
“There’s no truce in her transformations:
Necessity forces her to be fast,
So pressing are those who come forward to have a turn.
“She’s the one who is always put on a cross
By those who should instead give her praise;
They blame her unjustly and speak ill of her.
“But blessed is she—she doesn’t hear a thing:
She is happy with the other original creatures—
She rotates her sphere and is lifted up in bliss.”
FOR MORE STUDY
Three translation issues:
When Virgil begins to offer his disquisition on Dame Fortune, he offers a rather strange metaphor for what the pilgrim is supposed to do (line 72): “Or vo’ che tu mia sentenza ne ‘mbocche” (literally, “now go that you my judgment in bemouthed”—or something like that). Virgil is telling the pilgrim to put the old poet’s judgment (that is, his argument) in the pilgrim’s mouth: to swallow it (?), to savor it (?), to chew on it (?). In any event, the pilgrim is supposed to put it in his mouth . . . perhaps for nourishment, given that Virgil has just gone off on the foolish creatures who don’t understand anything. Charles Singleton claims the verb relates to spoon-feeding a baby. Maybe, although I doubt Virgil thinks of the pilgrim as an infant in need of schooling. He seems more irritated, as if the pilgrim is ignorant of something he should know.
Fortune “permutasse a tempo li ben vani/ di gente in gente, e d’uno in altro sangue” (literally, “morphs at times the goods empty/ from people to people, and from one to another blood”—lines 79 - 80). It’s crucial to see the word “vani”—not as in “vainglory,” but as in the old-school definition of “vanity” (“emptiness” or “nothingness”). To make sure we get it loud and clear, “vani” is rhymed with “mondani” (“of this world”—line 77) and “umani” (“human”—line 81). But there’s also a political point: Fortune shifts things from one bloodline to another. While it’s easier to see worldly goods distributed by whim, it’s harder to see royal lines handed out willy-nilly, especially in Dante’s day. True, Dante lives before the divine right of kings is fully formulated. Still, he knows the writings of St. Paul about God’s appointing earthly rulers (Romans 13: 1) and the sayings of Jesus (“Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s and unto God the things that are God’s”—Mark 12: 17 and elsewhere). No wonder Fortune’s work is “oltre la difension d’i senni umani” (literally, “beyond the defense of human thoughts”—line 81).
The language gets very sacred as Virgil reaches the climax of his sermon. Fortune is “posta in croce” (literally, “put up in crucifixion”—line 91). She is also given lines close to what Gabriel speaks to Mary at the Annunciation: “ella s’è beata” (literally, “she herself is blessed”—line 94). It’s hard to make a compelling argument why she’s given such high Christian meaning. Is it Virgil’s mistake? Or is it Dante’s intention that we see this goddess as some sort of demi-god?
Three interpretive issues:
Virgil seems to reach an almost blasphemous place when he claims that Fortune “foresees, judges, and maintains her reign” (line 87), since she does so “come il loro li altri dèi” (“as for their own the other gods [do]).” Other gods? What other gods? Were Virgil to have used another word here, it would hardly be problematic. If he’d said “angels” or “principalities,” we could nod along. But gods? We might thing back to Psalm 82, one of the strangest psalms, in which God is said to oversee a council of the gods. This is certainly not a monotheistic viewpoint. In fact, we can’t even get out of it by translating “dèi” as “demi-gods.” It’s “gods,” plain and simple. Is this Virgil’s mistake? Is this is misunderstanding of Christian theology? Or is the poet trying to work out a different understanding of the cosmos, one he will ultimately reject? Or is this a comment on Boethius as a baby step for believers?
This first point ties to a second one about “l’altre prime creature” (“the other first creations”—line 95). If you’re just reading COMEDY for the first time, this line would make absolutely no sense. What other first creations? Way up in PARADISO, we’ll discover them spinning the wheels of the universe. Which may call into question my thesis that COMEDY is a poem in process. If the poet drops a hint here about how the universe works, a hint he intends to follow up on much later in the poem, doesn’t that say the whole thing is planned in advance? Not really. Our poet surely has a general idea of the world he’s building, as does any good world-builder. But he may not know the specifics . . . which is why we never see Dame Fortune as we ascend to the moon and beyond in PARADISO. And by the way, this bit about the goddess Fortune and her rule ties right back to Virgil’s talk about all the gold “under the moon” (line 64). Her reign is located in this sphere, below the moon (which sits on its own sphere as it orbits around the earth).
Notice the movement through the second, third, and fourth circles. We started out with private, domestic violence when Francesca and Paolo are murdered, we moved to the tragedy of Florence with Ciacco’s prophesies, and we come here to a global look at scarcity and the distribution of goods. Where could the poem go from here?