Paradiso (94 page)

1.
   It has been suggested (Holl.2001.1, p. 140) that this canto, the only one in the poem spoken by a single voice, is a sort of Dantean version of a miniaturized
Aeneid
, become, in this handling, a theologized history of
Rome. This first verse lends aid to such a view, as it rather dramatically opens this “mini-epic” in medias res, as indeed did the poem that contains it (see the note to
Inferno
I.1). The uniqueness of Justinian’s canto, the only one in the poem dedicated to a single speaker and to the longest single speech in the poem, reflects the phenomenon addressed in great detail by Wilkins (see the section “Style in
Paradiso
” in the introduction): The third
cantica
has fewer speakers, but these speak at greater length than do most of those found in the first two canticles.
[return to
English
/
Italian
]

2–3.
   The Eagle, symbol of the Roman Empire, originally, with Aeneas, followed the course of the heavens, encircling the earth from east to west. Subsequently it moved from west (Italy) to east (Constantinople), where Constantine had transferred the seat of the empire in 330, and where Justinian governed from 527 until 565.

Aeneas’s taking Lavinia to wife, not recounted in the
Aeneid
, is the only Virgilian detail that is reprocessed in Justinian’s epic narrative.
[return to
English
/
Italian
]

4–6.
   Dante’s chronology is different from that of most historians; he perhaps reflects one tradition found in some manuscripts of Brunetto Latini’s
Tresor
, which has it that the initial transfer took place in 333 (and not in 330) and that Justinian assumed the eastern throne only in 539 (and not in 527), some 206 years later, thus accounting for Dante’s error (in verse 4: “two hundred years and more”). For speculation regarding these dates in relation to Dante’s sense of imperial prophecy in the
Aeneid
, see Hollander and Russo (Holl.2003.1).

The mountains of the Troad, in Asia Minor, are presented as the site of Troy.
[return to
English
/
Italian
]

4.
   For Dante’s phrase “the bird of God” (
l’uccel di Dio
), see its earlier presence in slightly different form: “l’uccel di Giove” (
Purg
. XXXII.112).
[return to
English
/
Italian
]

7.
   Justinian’s words allow a reader to glimpse the heavily theologized nature of this history lesson. The citation (first noted by Baldassare Lombardi, in his comm. to this verse) of Psalm 16:8 (17:8), “sub umbra alarum tuarum” (beneath the shadow of your wings), building on the phrase “l’uccel di Dio” (the bird of God) in verse 4, invests the passage with a sense of divinity that is surely and specifically Christian.
[return to
English
/
Italian
]

8–9.
   The succession of the emperors has, in Dante, much the same feeling as that of the popes. One feels in both the presence of divine selection. It is not even a paradox that in Dante a greater solemnity is associated with
the emperors, seen as carrying out God’s work even before there were Christian emperors.
[return to
English
/
Italian
]

10.
   This verse performs a perfectly balanced five-word chiasmus:

Justinian
was
a ruler and
is
a citizen of Heaven.

This verse makes a reader mindful of that classical (and modern) poetic convention in which the dead open a colloquy with passersby through the agency of the words inscribed on their tombstones; see Stefano Carrai (Carr.2002.1), pp. 99–105.
[return to
English
/
Italian
]

11–12.
   One key element in Justinian’s self-presentation as inspired lawgiver is perhaps surprisingly similar to a key element in Dante’s self-description as inspired poet (see
Purgatorio
XXIV.52–54 and the note to that tercet). Hollander [Holl.1999.1], pp. 279–81, calls attention to the similarity in the presentations of Dante and Justinian as divinely inspired writers; see vv. 23–24, below: “it pleased God, in His grace, to grant me inspiration / in the noble task to which I wholly gave myself.”

It may seem odd that Dante thought of the
Digesta
, Justinian’s great winnowing of Roman law into fifty volumes, as having been inspired by the Holy Spirit—but not much more so than that he could have made the same claim for his own poetry. Moments like these make it difficult to deny the daring of the claims this poet makes for the veracity of his own fiction. He had to know how much discomfort this claim would cause, broadening, as it does, the range of those to whom the Spirit had chosen to speak beyond the wildest imagining. (See Mazzoni [Mazz.1982.1], pp. 139–40, for acknowledgment of this dimension of Dante’s strategy [which may seem surprising to those who wish to keep theology and politics separate], pointing to Kantorowicz’s previous and entirely similar understanding.)

The words “[il] primo amor ch’i’ sento” are potentially problematic. We have followed tradition in translating the verb
sentire
as meaning “feel.” However, it certainly could mean “hear.” The verb is used some 92 other times in the poem; some 32 of these mean “hear,” while some 60 indicate a more general sense of sense perception. See the clear examples of both meanings in a single verse:
Purgatorio
XXIV.38. Thus we have no reason to believe it could not mean “hear” here. And see the parallel with the phrase
“ch’i’odo” at
Purgatorio
XXIV.57, pointed out by Hollander (Holl.1999.1), p. 279.
[return to
English
/
Italian
]

13–18.
   Justinian confesses that he had believed in the monophysite heresy, embraced by Eutyches, which allowed Jesus only a divine nature, that is, denied His humanity. Credit for bringing his view into conformity with orthodoxy is conferred upon Pope Agapetus I (533–536). As Carroll points out (comm. to vv. 1–27), however, Dante has, whether innocently or not, twisted several facts in order to manufacture his version of a Justinian cured of heresy before he did his inspired work on Roman law; for example, Agapetus came to Constantinople only
after
the books were finished, while Dante’s account (vv. 22–24) is quite different. Our poet simply must have a Christian compiler of the laws that were to govern Christian Europe; and so he manages to find (“create” might be the better word) him.
[return to
English
/
Italian
]

19–21.
   Agapetus is given credit for arguing his case so convincingly that Justinian was persuaded, as would be a contemporary of Dante, by Aristotle’s “law of contradictories.” Tozer (comm. to this tercet) paraphrases as follows: “ ‘[Agapetus’s] article of faith (the two Natures in Christ) I now see clearly, in the same way as you see that of two contradictories one must be false, the other true’; i.e. not as a matter of opinion or inference, but with absolute certainty.”
[return to
English
/
Italian
]

22–24.
   Justinian now makes still more specific the dependence of his legal writing on the Holy Spirit. See the note to vv. 11–12. Dante is insistent in establishing the emperor’s conversion as preceding his formulation of the laws, no matter what the facts may have been.
[return to
English
/
Italian
]

25–27.
   Belisarius (ca. 500–565), Justinian’s greatest general, is portrayed by Dante in unproblematic and glowing terms, either despite what the poet knew of his eventual difficulties with his emperor or in ignorance of them. If Dante did know the extravagant and unverified tale (but he may not have, we must remember) that Justinian finally had all his possessions stripped from Belisarius and also had him blinded, we would sense even more strongly how willing Dante was to let the ideality of the situation trump its actuality. For here is a realm that a Dante can love, its supreme leader completely dedicated to the practical intellectual concerns of governance, the law, while his “right hand,” loyal and true, takes care of problems with the Vandals in Africa and the Goths in Italy. In any case, this pair
of heroic figures offers Dante an emblem of the successful collaboration between representatives of the active and of the contemplative life (here in the form of the lower part of Boethius’s familiar binome, practical [rather than theoretical] thought; see
Cons. Phil
. I.1[pr.]).

This is, according to the
Grande Dizionario
, one of the very few times in the history of the Italian language that the verb
commendare
is used to signify “affidare” (entrust)—the only other example put forward comes from Castiglione two centuries later. In Dante the word more usually signifies “praise, celebrate.”
[return to
English
/
Italian
]

30.
   Narrowing the principal activity of his own life on behalf of Rome triggers in Justinian the need to “add” something more, a “digression” of sorts (vv. 34–111), which naturally enough has begun (vv. 31–33) by touching on the criminally irresponsible struggles between Guelphs and Ghibellines in Dante’s Italy. It will, also naturally enough, conclude with the same concern (vv. 97–111). Thus ancient history has a most modern relevance and is framed by that topic.
[return to
English
/
Italian
]

31–33.
   The outcome of the struggle of the Eagle, a great Hegelian bird moving through history to make manifest the Spirit, is hardly a cause for optimism, at least not at the moment in which Dante is writing. The “covers” of Justinian’s historical essay both depict the disastrous present day in Italy. The ensuing narrative of the Eagle’s flight through time and space is put to the service of showing that it has become the corrupt emblem of a corrupt party (the Ghibellines of 1300), opposed by equally corrupt Guelphs.

Justinian speaks ironically (employing the trope
antiphrasis
, saying the opposite of what is meant).
[return to
English
/
Italian
]

34–96.
   The core of the canto, offering what is perhaps the poem’s crucial political self-definition, presenting an absolutely unorthodox “history of the Caesars,” that is, one principally shaped by a Christian point of view, is divided into sixteen segments:

34.
   The Eagle is marked by
virtù
(usually “power” but, at times, as here, “virtue”), precisely what the opposing Italian political parties lack. The ensuing list of virtuous founding presences harps upon the moral virtues that separated Romans from their enemies. See
Convivio
IV.iv.11 for an earlier expression of Dante’s firm belief in the moral superiority of the Romans: “Therefore, since this office [rulership] could not be attained without the greatest virtue, and since its exercise required the greatest and most humane kindness, this was the people best disposed to receive it” (tr. R. Lansing).
[return to
English
/
Italian
]

35–36.
   Roman imperial virtue begins with the death of Pallas, son of Evander. Despite the special protection of Aeneas, Pallas is killed in battle by Turnus (
Aen
. X.479–489). Thus the founding event of the empire is presented here as the death of Pallas, an event that seems to have the status of sacrifice. For a discussion in this vein, see Rachel Jacoff (Jaco.1985.1). The death of Cato has a similar resonance; he died for liberty, as Virgil tells Dante (
Purg
. I.71–72; and see the note to vv. 71–74). Pallas dies in order to give virtue a homeland in Italy where, for a time at least, it prospered. “His death led to that of Turnus, because Aeneas would have spared the latter’s life, had he not seen the belt of Pallas, which [Turnus] was wearing (
Aen
. XII.940–950). By Turnus’ death Aeneas became possessed of Lavinia, and of the Kingdom of Latinus. Thus the death of Pallas ultimately caused the eagle to obtain the sovereignty” (Tozer’s commentary to vv. 35–36).

Of the death of Pallas, Dante (
Monarchia
II.ix.14) has this to say: “In this combat [with Turnus] the clemency of the victor Aeneas was so great that, had he not caught sight of the belt which Turnus had taken from Pallas when he killed him, the victor would have granted life as well as peace to the vanquished, as our poet’s closing lines testify” (tr. P. Shaw).
[return to
English
/
Italian
]