PURGATORIO, Episode 99. The Easy Climb Into Complex Meaning: PURGATORIO, Canto XIII, Lines 1 - 21

Dante the pilgrim and his guide, Virgil, have arrived at the second terrace of Purgatory proper. As readers, we're not even sure what this terrace is about, although we can infer there must be more penitents ahead.

Instead, Dante the poet offers us rather straightforward, naturalistic details, a complex neologism (a new word he coined), a crazy line that has many interpretations possible, and then a pagan prayer in the afterlife of the redeemed.

Join me, Mark Scarbrough, as we walk into the second terrace and immediately stumble over what at first glance looks like a fairly simple passage. That's why we're slow-walking across Dante's known universe!

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

[01:09] My English translation of PURGATORIO, Canto XIII, lines 1- 21. If you'd like to read along or continue the conversation with me, please scroll down this page.

[03:22] The naturalistic, straightforward details complete with a surprising neologism (or newly coined word).

[08:12] A deeply ambiguous line smack in the middle of rather simple details.

[12:02] Virgil's haste and his internalization of Cato's ethic, as well as Dante's increasingly complicated relationship with the old poet.

[15:29] Virgil's pagan prayer to the sun.

[23:40] My take: Virgil, the pagan, makes a full appearance here on the second terrace of Purgatory.

[29:02] Virgil, blinded.

[31:42] A rereading of the passage: PURGATORIO, Canto XIII, lines 1 - 21.

And here’s my English translation of Purgatorio, Canto XIII, Lines 1 – 21

We were at the top of the stairs,

Where the mountain that de-sins us

Is sliced away for the second time.

That’s where another, shorter terrace belts the slope

With an arc, just as the first terrace did,

Although this one’s curvature was a bit more pronounced.

No shade was there, nor were any visible signs apparent.

The embankment and the smooth path itself seemed

To be the livid color of the rock.

“If we stick around here for someone to ask,”

My poet said, “I’m afraid that

Our choice will perhaps be put off for too long.”

Then he set his eyes directly on the sun

And made his right side the axis of his movements

As he rotated around the mountain with his left side.

“O sweet light, in which I enter in full trust

Along this new road,” he said, “please lead us along

In the way that one would wish to be going.

“You heat the world and shine over it.

If some other reason doesn’t offer a counterweight,

Your rays should always serve as our guide.”