Beatrice continues her discussion of moon spots by voicing (and fabricating) an objection Dante might have to her argument against rare and dense material: maybe the dense material is farther back in the moon and reflects dimmer light. To disprove this notion, she proposes an experiment . . . which just happens to support both the incarnation and the trinity from orthodox Christian theology.
Read MoreBeatrice begins her explanation for moon spots (and her destruction of Dante’s explanation) by lofting her vision to the top of the visible universe, then bringing it down to experimental (and experiential) knowledge and the dizzying vertigo of mixed metaphors, all to bring Dante toward the ultimate inexpressible nature of the heavens.
Read MoreOur smartypants pilgrim Dante thinks he has the answer to why the moon has spots. It’s not that shoddy folklore. It’s all about natural philosophy. Problem is, Virgil was all about the folkloric explanation. And Beatrice is having none of it since he’s clearly “submerged” in fallacy, about the way Virgil was.
Read MoreAfter a warning to his readers (or maybe just some of his readers) to go home, Dante ascends into the moon with Beatrice. They enter the diaphanous and aesthetic mystery of the universe standing in the pearl of the heavens . . . and thereby proving the incarnation of Christ (if you believe Dante’s journey really happened).
Read MoreOur poet Dante steps out of the wings to warn off us readers. We might get lost if we set sail over the salty deep of PARADISO and haven’t prepared enough . . . or at least eaten the angels’ bread. But maybe the poet is not warning us all off. Maybe he’s got concerns closer to home. Maybe he’s talking to his fellow poets.
Read MoreIf Dante has a question about how his body can transit other bodies in the universe, Beatrice doesn’t answer it. Instead, she launches into a discussion of our natural instincts and how they lead us to our natural ends, unless we swerve from what’s intended for us or find our pleasure elsewhere.
Read MoreBeatrice has answered Dante’s first doubt, but he has another: How can he, perhaps in his body, transit the known universe? She doesn’t really answer the question. Instead, she launches into an explanation of the universe’s order, sailing across the great sea of “to be.”
Read MoreDante notices that the light has doubled in brightness. He also hears the music of the spheres. He’s too busy trying to measure and understand those to realize that he’s already left earth to fly up toward the planets and stars. Fortunately, Beatrice is there to set him straight . . . and to redefine “home.”
Read MoreThe plot returns to PARADISO! Our pilgrim Dante turns to Beatrice . . . to see her staring into the sun. So he does the same, becoming a reflection of her glory as he also sees the sparking wonder of the heavens above him.
Read MoreDante moves from his scholastic and even (medieval) scientific introduction to PARADISO and into an invocation . . . to Apollo? How is a pagan god the object of his prayers in this most Christian part of his poem, COMEDY? This passage is polyvocal, an uneasy alliance of Christian and classical texts, resulting in striking dissonances throughout.
Read MoreDante opens the third canticle of COMEDY by renegotiating some of the terms of the poem itself: He is indeed like St. Paul (maybe even more profound than the great saint) and memory isn’t able to carry the weight of the poem ahead, its flight to the unmoved mover in its ascent to the heaven that takes in more of the light of glory than any other.
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