The Divine Comedy by Dante

A.A. Milne famously said, "One does not argue about The Wind in the Willows.... The book is a test of character. We can't criticize it, because it is criticizing us.... When you sit down to it, don't be so ridiculous as to suppose that you are sitting in judgement on my taste, or on the art of Kenneth Grahame. You are merely sitting in judgment on yourself. You may be worthy: I don't know. But it is you who are on trial."

Truly, there are some classics I do not judge because they are so out of my realm of understanding that they need to be read humbly. The Bible, Shakespeare and Dante's Comedia all fit into that category. 

I recently re-read Inferno and Purgatorio. I was lost eighty percent of the time two years ago, but was surprised at how much more I understood and enjoyed it this second time around. It was actually the highlight of my morning three days a week. (I again used the schedule and complementary videos from the 100 Days of Dante done by Baylor University, which greatly enhanced the experience.)

While I still consider myself a neophyte in the Dantean world, I am beginning to appreciate his genius for imagery and poetical symmetry. His use of the "contrapasso" is often startling. Contrapasso is the principle that every soul must suffer in the afterlife according to the sin they committed in life. Sometimes this is shown ironically as in the punishment for fortune tellers. Because they tried to look to the future, they will spend eternity with their heads on backwards, doomed to forever looking behind rather than forward.  

Then there is something called "vertical reading," which means that in all three books (Inferno, Purgatorio and Paradiso) each canto has a similar theme. For example, Narcissus is mentioned in Canto 30 of each the three books. And it is no coincidence that all three books end with the word "star." 

Not only are there 33 cantos in each book (book one has an introductory canto which doesn't count), but there are 33 syllables per tercet (three lines of verse). There are three ladies who help, three guides, and three apostles. All this is because in Dante's world the cosmos is structured and stewarded by the three-person God. (Brian Williams talks about all of this in his brief overview of The Inferno here.)

I used a hardcopy of John Ciardi's translation, which was loaded with helpful notes, but I missed the beautiful language. Happily, I found a wonderful audioversion on Chirp, which I think might be Robert Hollander's version. 

Here's an example of the language difference:

Ciardi: Ah! What wounds I saw, some new, some old, branded upon their bodies! Even now the pain of it turns me cold.

Hollander: Ah! what wounds I marked upon their limbs, recut and old, inflicted by the flames. Even the remembrance of them grieves me yet. 

Here are a few YouTube videos that might encourage you to give Dante a try: one by Malcom Guite and one by Anthony Esolen. Karen Swallow Prior shares strong opinions about the Comedia here.

Has anyone else dipped into Dante? Do you have a favorite translation?

Blessings

The Common Rule by Justin Whitmel Earley

There are lots of books about spiritual disciplines, but this one is unique because it addresses the use of digital media head on. When our phones take up so much of our time, how do we, as Christians, create healthy habits around them?  

Justin Whitmel Earley encourages four daily habits and four weekly habits that are designed to draw us closer to God and wean us away from dependence on social media for affirmation and dopamine hits. The daily habits are 1) Kneel for prayer three times a day, 2) Eat one meal with others, 3) Spend one hour with your cellphone off, 4) Read Scripture before turning on your phone.

The weekly habits are 1) Spend one hour of conversation with a friend, 2) Curate your media (movies/videos) to four hours, 3) Fast from something for 24 hours, and 4) Keep the Sabbath.

The chapter on Daily Habit #3 (Turn of your phone for one hour a day) was the most important chapter in the book for me, not because I don’t already limit my cell phone use, but because it gave good theological reasons for continuing to do so. Presence is the essence of life itself. It’s at the heart of who we are because presence is at the core of our relationship with God. From creation to salvation, the story of the Bible is fundamentally a story of presence. Eden was Eden because the unmediated presence of God was there. God was with Adam and Eve till sin broke the bliss of that presence. After they sinned, Adam and Eve wanted to cover their nakedness and hide. This is the hallmark of life as we know it now.  We hide from each other and we hide from God. We long for the face of God, but we can’t bear his gaze either. Sin has turned a people meant for presence into a people of absence. Fortunately, the story of the Bible doesn’t end there. God in His mercy still pursues His rebellious children.

Although I appreciated this book very much, I found parts of it to be annoying (Earley’s bragging about how good he is at speaking Chinese was one example). Also, the subtitle of this book could have been “Spiritual Disciplines for Social Justice Warriors” because of how often he tacked on social justice issues to each discipline. Don’t get me wrong. I LOVED his emphasis on spiritual disciplines that are rooted in the two commandments to “Love God and love your neighbor.” What better motivation can you have for getting off your phone than to be fully present to those around you and to pursue the goals that God has put into your heart to fulfill His purposes?

But some of the ways he prescribes to do that are just plain odd. In the chapter on curating your media time, he strongly suggests that you watch things that show the injustice in the world so that you can feel miserable about it. But feeling bad about injustice is not biblical justice. (See Voddie Baucham's explanation of the difference in this video.)

Anyway, this book stretched me in a lot of ways and I'm glad I read it. Any thoughts?

Blessings,