The story (or narrative) of PURGATORIO comes to a halt in Canto VI and the poem turns into a political invective.

There are interesting problems here: with metaphors, with history, with poetics, and with (perhaps) our own expectations. Join me, Mark Scarbrough, as I have to face my own expectations about COMEDY in this difficult canto of PURGATORIO.

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

[02:16] My English translation of the passage: PURGATORIO, Canto VI, lines 76 - 105. If you'd like to read along, print it off, or continue the conversation with me, please scroll down this page.

[05:48] Who was Justinian and why was he important to Dante?

[09:58] Who was "German Albert," as well as his successors? And why were they important to Dante?

[15:12] The opening third of the invective moves from a messy jumble of metaphors to a single, controlling metaphor. Is this movement enacting Dante's own political hopes?

[19:47] Dante's politics are deeply troubling, as are our own: chaos calls for an iron fist.

[21:52] Sordello is a crouching lion, a threat, because he represents the sort of poet Dante could have become.

And here’s my English translation of Purgatorio, Canto VI, Lines 76 – 105

Ah, servile Italy, a hostel of sorrows,

A ship without a pilot in a great storm—

Hardly a lady in her domain, just a whorehouse!

 

Just at the sweet sound of his city’s name,

That noble soul was so excited

To welcome his fellow citizen there.

 

The ones alive in your lands are now stuck in a spot

With endless warfare. One and another gnaw at each other,

Even if they’re both stationed behind a wall or in a moat.

 

Misery incarnate, search along the shores

Of your sea. Look into your own heart

To see if there’s a single part of you that is happily at peace.

 

What good did it do if Justinian repaired the bridle

When the saddle is empty?

Without that bridle, at least your shame would be less.

 

Ah, you people should remain steadfast in your loyalties

And let Caesar sit in the saddle,

If you understood well what God writes to you.

 

Look how nasty this beast has become

Because it hasn’t been governed by spurs,

Ever since you took the reins in your own hands.

 

O, German Albert, you abandoned her,

So that she became untamed and savage;

You should get up in her stirrups!

 

May a just judgment fall from the stars

And onto your blood. May it be so new and clear

That your successor will quake in fear of it.

 

Both you and your father were detained

By greed in a far-off country

And have allowed the garden of the empire to be a wasteland.