The opening lines of PURGATORIO. We start, not with the pilgrim Dante (as we did in INFERNO), but with the poet, who has put his hubris and perhaps his doubts on full display.

Join me, Mark Scarbrough, as we slow-walk through the opening lines of the second canticle, the second third, of Dante's masterwork COMEDY. We'll hear the poet state his intentions, hear him drop some bits of orthodox theology as well as perhaps some heterodox bits, and he’ll invoke the muses, not to guide him, but to follow him.

Here are the segments for this episode of WALKING WITH DANTE:

[01:01] Reading my English translation of PURGATORIO, Canto I, Lines 1 - 12. You can find these lines on my website, markscarbrough.com, where you can also drop comments or ask questions.

[03:01] Dante arrives in PURGATORIO in his own boat, although an angel brings everyone else.

[08:13] PURGATORIO is a terrestrial poem that begins with the poet Dante--whereas INFERNO was a terrestrial poem that began with the pilgrim Dante.

[10:24] Dante the poet offers the third invocation to the Muses in COMEDY, now with distinct references to that most Christian doctrine: the resurrection.

[16:39] Calliope is the greatest muse, not necessarily "just" the muse of epic poetry.

[18:55] What exactly is "deadened poetry" ("morta poesí")? The answer is harder than you may think.

[22:07] The opening twelve lines of PURGATORIO are jam-packed with the poet's hubris.

[26:57] But the poet Dante may well express his fears as well as his hubris in these lines.

[29:18] Something to consider: INFERNO may have been Purgatory for the poet.

[30:49] Rereading PURGATORIO, Canto I, Lines 1 - 12.

And here’s my English translation of PURGATORIO, Canto I, Lines 1 - 12:

To make its run through milder waters, the little boat

Of my talent hoists its sail

So it can leave that cruel sea behind.

So I’ll sing of the second kingdom,

The one where the human soul purges itself

And becomes worthy enough to leap into the heavens.

But here, may my deadened poetry rise again,

O holy Muses, for I am yours.

And here let Calliope rise a bit,

Following along in my song with those chords

That made the miserable magpies

Feel such guilt that they despaired of any pardon.