Purgatory
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Dante Alighieri
Dante Alighieri was an Italian poet of the Middle Ages, best known for his masterpiece, the epic Divine Comedy, considered to be one of the greatest poetic works in literature. A native of Florence, Dante was deeply involved in his city-state’s politics and had political, as well as poetic, ambitions. He was exiled from Florence in 1301 for backing the losing faction in a dispute over the pope’s influence, and never saw Florence again. While in exile, Dante wrote the Comedy, the tale of the poet’s pilgrimage through Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise. To reach the largest possible audience for the work, Dante devised a version of Italian based largely on his own Tuscan dialect and incorporating Latin and parts of other regional dialects. In so doing, he demonstrated the vernacular’s fitness for artistic expression, and earned the title “Father of the Italian language.” Dante died in Ravenna in 1321, and his body remains there despite the fact that Florence erected a tomb for him in 1829.
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Reviews for Purgatory
595 ratings19 reviews
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Minder dramatisch en meeslepend dan eerste deel, maar eigenlijk "mooier" door het perfect evenwicht tussen literair en leerdicht. Bijzonder verfijnd van toon.Het laatste deel vanaf zang 28 heeft een heel ander timbre dat al volledig in de lijn ligt van Paradiso en minder volgbaar en genietbaar is.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5In which the boringly repentant people get punished horribly, because otherwise they wouldn't REALLY be repenting.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5There are two kinds of people who read Dante. The first kind gets all excited about people stuck head down in piles of shit, and wishes that the adulterers and libertines could just keep on doing what they did in the real world, because it's so romantic. The second kind gets all excited about griffins pulling chariots, the relationship between the political and the religious, and the neoplatonic ascent from beautiful woman to Beauty and God. I am the second kind; I can see the pull of the first kind, and I understand it, but really. The whole thing just gets better the further on it goes. Hell is like a decent TV drama with an episode each week, say, House. Purgatorio (and, from memory, Paradiso) are to Inferno what The Wire is to House. Sometimes you just want to watch 45 minutes of cool stuff; sometimes you want something a bit less immediately gratifying, but a more substantial. And this is the substance.
Luckily, the Hollanders are here to translate this thing for you and to give you the insider knowledge you'll need to get a hold of that substance. It isn't easy, unless you're a medievalist who knows the psalms by heart in latin, which I am not and, I'm guessing, neither are you. Because those people are not writing or reading goodreads reviews. They are studying ancient manuscripts and debating whether that letter there is an iota or a lambda. Good for them. Good for the head in a bucket of shit loving people. Good for all. - Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Divine Comedy epitomized medieval attitudes. From historical perspectives, this work serves as a window into the mentality of late middle ages in Italy, on the brink of the Renaissance. Scholastic thinking informs Dante's approach.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5This is the second part of Dante's Divine Comedy. The first took us through Hell, and this part takes us through Purgatory--the realm where Catholics believe those souls not saints spend time purging their sins before entering Heaven. And that's the key difference: Hope. Dante famously has the gateway into Hell read "Abandon All Hope." The punishments in Hell are purposeless and its denizens are without hope they'll ever see an end. So Purgatory is less dark, less grotesque, and alas, less memorable.There is beautiful poetry to be found here and gorgeous imagery and use of classical and biblical materials. But the fact is that without refreshing my memory with a reread there is so much of Hell I remember. The eternal scorching wind of the first part with Francesca Rimini and her lover. Gianni Schicci in the Circle of Impersonators, Dante's friend who is eternally condemned for being a homosexual, Mohamed among the schismatics, and Judas, Brutus and Cassius in the lake of ice in the lowest circle being chewed on by Satan.With Purgatory I did remember Dante's architecture--the seven ledges in the Mountain each dealing with punishing and purging one of the Seven Deadly Sins. But I didn't remember the people, outside of Dante's guide Virgil and the wrench I felt when he was replaced with Dante's love Beatrice. Dante's Hell admittedly has the advantage of being echoed in both popular and elite culture. Gianni Schichi and Francesca di Rimini both have operas of that name; I can remember a book--I think it was by Piers Anthony--where Mohammed complains about winding up in a Christian Hell. And haven't we all heard of the Ninth Circle? Dante's Purgatory doesn't have that advantage.Don't get me wrong. This is still amazing and worth the read. Recently I read Moby Dick and though it had powerful passages I found it self-indulgent and bloated and devoutly wished an editor had taken a hatchet to the numerous digressions. There is no such thing as digressions in Dante. I don't think I've ever read a more carefully crafted work. The number of cantos, the rhyme scheme--everything has a meaning. Nothing is incidental or left to chance here. All in all, like Dante's Hell, this is an imaginary landscape worthy of Tolkien or Pratchett, both in large ways and small details. I found it fitting how Dante tied both sins and virtues to love--a sin was love misdirected or applied. Then there are all the striking phrases, plays of ideas and gorgeous imagery that comes through despite translations. I loved The Divine Comedy so much upon my first read (I read the Dorothy Sayers translation) I went out and bought two other versions. One by Allen Mandelbaum (primarily because it was a dual language book with the Italian on one page facing the English translation) and a hardcover version translated by Charles Eliot Norton. Finally, before writing up my review and inspired by Matthew Pearl's The Dante Club, I got reacquainted by finding Longfellow's translation online. Of all of them, I greatly prefer Mandelbaum's translation. The others try to keep the rhyming and rhythm of the original and this means a sometimes tortured syntax and use of archaic words and the result is forced and often obscure, making the work much harder to read than it should be.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Minder dramatisch en meeslepend dan eerste deel, maar eigenlijk "mooier" door het perfect evenwicht tussen literair en leerdicht. Bijzonder verfijnd van toon.Het laatste deel vanaf zang 28 heeft een heel ander timbre dat al volledig in de lijn ligt van Paradiso en minder volgbaar en genietbaar is.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I see that people have reviewed versions of Dante translated into English by several people, but nobody has done John Ciardi's translations, so here goes. I read Ciardi's Inferno many years ago (like, 1976, and followed it up with Niven and Pournelle's takeoff). I find Ciardi's translation of Il Purgatorio more interesting (though perhaps less 'salacious'). Ciardi certainly has a way of keeping the reader's attention, and the Dante's narrative is well worth the effort. Ciardi provides extensive notes on subjects in the narrative (characters that Dante and Virgil meet in their journey, uh, Pilgrimage). He also provides a pretty much 'play by play' narrative of his own philosophy and choices for the language, rhymes and scansion of the text itself (Italian isn't so easy to translate into English, it seems). All in all a very nicely done translation. I will be searching for Ciardi's translation of 'The Paradiso.'
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Perhaps after reading Inferno I picked up Dante's voice and rhythm, but Purgatorio seemed much less dense and not as confusing. Each circle was quite straight forward and the fewer incidents of name dropping was helpful in realizing the essence of each layer of repentance.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Sinclair translation, as ever, is superb, and the notes and introductions continue to be very useful. Dante emerges after the trials of Inferno and climbs the mount of Purgatory with Virgil, participating in the penance necessary to cleanse him of his sins. As in Inferno, the souls are put through various trials which testify to Dante's ever-erudite imagination. The cantica concludes with Dante being reunited with his beloved Beatrice; but there is a bittersweet note as Virgil, a pagan despite his fine qualities, is denied entrance to Paradise.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5Eh, this definitely wasn't as fun to read as [book: Inferno]. There was a lot less exciting stuff going on. But some of the imagery was still very beautiful.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5I listened to this book on CD instead of actually reading it. The version that I had had an explanation at the beginning of each verse to help you understand and then read the verse.
In this book, you travel with Dante through Purgatory and he cleanses himself of the seven deadly sins.
I really liked this book. I forgot how much I liked Greek Mythology (which I expected only because of the Inferno). It has pushed me to look into more mythology again. - Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5I found this just as interesting as Inferno. The concepts, people and theology that Dante described for us is fascinating, if you are interested in that sort of thing at all. Luckily this is a fairly easy to read translation.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5What is there to say about this that others haven't said better? The language is beautiful, and the ideas -- well, reading it, I realised I knew all about Dante's work without ever having read it before. That tells you how pervasive they are.
It's an amazing work. I don't know what translation I read: it was a free download. - Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5The Hollanders once again do a fine job of pulling the reader along, with a clear translation and very helpful notes that help to clarify Dante's context. I just dipped into them when I had a particular question. (Can't imagine how long it would take to read them all). Things I learned about Purgatory:
Thomas Merton's autobiography, The Seven Storey Mountain, borrows it's title from Dante's vision of Mt. Purgatory.
The Garden of Eden is preserved at the peak of the mountain.
Next stop: Paradise! - Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5(Review is of the Penguin Classics translation by Mark Musa, and applies to all three volumes, Inferno, Purgatorio, and Paradisio) I would not think to quibble with reviewing Dante himself - Dante is a master, and doesn't need my endorsement. I will say, however, that Musa's translation is an exceptionally sensitive one, and his comprehensive notes are an invaluable aid to the reader less familiar with Dante's broad spheres of reference. Musa is clearly a devoted scholar of Dante, and his concern for Dante's original meaning and tone is evident. This is one of the best translations of The Comedia available.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5The Hollanders once again do a fine job of pulling the reader along, with a clear translation and very helpful notes that help to clarify Dante's context. I just dipped into them when I had a particular question. (Can't imagine how long it would take to read them all). Things I learned about Purgatory: Thomas Merton's autobiography, The Seven Storey Mountain, borrows it's title from Dante's vision of Mt. Purgatory.The Garden of Eden is preserved at the peak of the mountain.Next stop: Paradise!
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5I have not read a huge number of translations of Dante, but of the one's that I've read Musa's is by far the best. Extremely readable but also quite complex. I would recommend this translation to anyone.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5When I hear discussion about the Divine Comedy, mostly I hear references to Inferno. It’s all Grr Argh suffering. Look the angst. The pathos. The humanity of it all. Hello, everyone is damned. Great story, but everyone is in hell. Now Purgatorio is something I can sink my teeth into. Sure people are suffering. However, instead of reenacting the results of their errors over and over, they are purging away the sin itself.Purgatory is about hope. The suffering isn’t about making people, well, suffer. Purgatory isn’t about punishment. The suffering is God’s way of helping sinners wrap their brain around why and how that sin hurts them. Hurts others. Basically, it’s God showing a little tough love. Purgatory is hopeful because eventually, Purgatory will be empty. There is the promise that one day, each sinner will have a place in paradise.Purgatory is also about people. They aren’t damned and they aren’t saved. They weren’t saints. Most of them screwed up at some point or another. That’s why they are there. Casella, who sings in the sweet new style. Okay, so he waited a bit to long to reform, but at least he reformed. Save me, but not yet. La Pia, who was filled with envy, the mean old woman on her porch making fun of people. Now she sits with her eyes sewn shut, talking with others. Learning to listen. Learning to lean on others for support.Statius, who hid his Christianity out of fear. And okay, you gotta love a guy who starts out by saying that Virgil is his hero and you, the reader, know Virgil is standing right there. And Dante the character starts to lose it. Okay, it’s couched in poetic language. But come on, his eyes are filled with mirth and he’s dying to tell Statius, hey your hero, he’s standing right next to you. Lovely moment.Although, there is a thread of sadness that runs through the narrative. Virgil. He’s damned through no fault of his own. Over and over Dante returns to a question that clearly bothers him. How can Virgil, brave, noble, Dante’s literary father, be damned. Which as I think of it is an another example of Dante’s damned fathers, saved sons theme. There is something so fresh and poignant about that moment, when upon seeing Beatrice, Dante is struck by confusion. Turns to ask Virgil what he should do, but Virgil has slipped away all unnoticed to return to his blameless place in hell.I first read Purgatory for my favorite class in college, "Dante", and lo these years later, I still like to return on occasion to climb up the mountain.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Merwin brings the centerpiece of Dante's masterpiece to English in a translation that is accurate, artful, and enjoyable. I recommend reading the whole thing aloud—easily done over a day or so—to get the full effect of the compounding sentence structures, elaborate analogies, and overall music of this rendering. Some of the allusions were lost on me (and I was too lazy to check the endnotes), yet I found it easy to feel the awesome highs and lows, the tension and relief, along with Dante on his journey through the middle realm. I'll grant that this is the only translation of Purgatorio that I've read and I can't read the original, so I can't say much to compare Merwin's version to others, but I can safely say that this work is an important and exciting renewal of the literary canon by one of our day's foremost men of letters.
Book preview
Purgatory - Dante Alighieri
COMEDY
CANTO I
O’er better waves to speed her rapid course
The light bark of my genius lifts the sail,
Well pleas’d to leave so cruel sea behind;
And of that second region will I sing,
In which the human spirit from sinful blot
Is purg’d, and for ascent to Heaven prepares.
Here, O ye hallow’d Nine! for in your train
I follow, here the deadened strain revive;
Nor let Calliope refuse to sound
A somewhat higher song, of that loud tone,
Which when the wretched birds of chattering note
Had heard, they of forgiveness lost all hope.
Sweet hue of eastern sapphire, that was spread
O’er the serene aspect of the pure air,
High up as the first circle, to mine eyes
Unwonted joy renew’d, soon as I ‘scap’d
Forth from the atmosphere of deadly gloom,
That had mine eyes and bosom fill’d with grief.
The radiant planet, that to love invites,
Made all the orient laugh, and veil’d beneath
The Pisces’ light, that in his escort came.
To the right hand I turn’d, and fix’d my mind
On the’ other pole attentive, where I saw
Four stars ne’er seen before save by the ken
Of our first parents. Heaven of their rays
Seem’d joyous. O thou northern site, bereft
Indeed, and widow’d, since of these depriv’d!
As from this view I had desisted, straight
Turning a little tow’rds the other pole,
There from whence now the wain had disappear’d,
I saw an old man standing by my side
Alone, so worthy of rev’rence in his look,
That ne’er from son to father more was ow’d.
Low down his beard and mix’d with hoary white
Descended, like his locks, which parting fell
Upon his breast in double fold. The beams
Of those four luminaries on his face
So brightly shone, and with such radiance clear
Deck’d it, that I beheld him as the sun.
"Say who are ye, that stemming the blind stream,
Forth from th’ eternal prison-house have fled?"
He spoke and moved those venerable plumes.
"Who hath conducted, or with lantern sure
Lights you emerging from the depth of night,
That makes the infernal valley ever black?
Are the firm statutes of the dread abyss
Broken, or in high heaven new laws ordain’d,
That thus, condemn’d, ye to my caves approach?"
My guide, then laying hold on me, by words
And intimations given with hand and head,
Made my bent knees and eye submissive pay
Due reverence; then thus to him replied.
"Not of myself I come; a Dame from heaven
Descending, had besought me in my charge
To bring. But since thy will implies, that more
Our true condition I unfold at large,
Mine is not to deny thee thy request.
This mortal ne’er hath seen the farthest gloom.
But erring by his folly had approach’d
So near, that little space was left to turn.
Then, as before I told, I was dispatch’d
To work his rescue, and no way remain’d
Save this which I have ta’en. I have display’d
Before him all the regions of the bad;
And purpose now those spirits to display,
That under thy command are purg’d from sin.
How I have brought him would be long to say.
From high descends the virtue, by whose aid
I to thy sight and hearing him have led.
Now may our coming please thee. In the search
Of liberty he journeys: that how dear
They know, who for her sake have life refus’d.
Thou knowest, to whom death for her was sweet
In Utica, where thou didst leave those weeds,
That in the last great day will shine so bright.
For us the’ eternal edicts are unmov’d:
He breathes, and I am free of Minos’ power,
Abiding in that circle where the eyes
Of thy chaste Marcia beam, who still in look
Prays thee, O hallow’d spirit! to own her shine.
Then by her love we’ implore thee, let us pass
Through thy sev’n regions; for which best thanks
I for thy favour will to her return,
If mention there below thou not disdain."
Marcia so pleasing in my sight was found,
He then to him rejoin’d, "while I was there,
That all she ask’d me I was fain to grant.
Now that beyond the’ accursed stream she dwells,
She may no longer move me, by that law,
Which was ordain’d me, when I issued thence.
Not so, if Dame from heaven, as thou sayst,
Moves and directs thee; then no flattery needs.
Enough for me that in her name thou ask.
Go therefore now: and with a slender reed
See that thou duly gird him, and his face
Lave, till all sordid stain thou wipe from thence.
For not with eye, by any cloud obscur’d,
Would it be seemly before him to come,
Who stands the foremost minister in heaven.
This islet all around, there far beneath,
Where the wave beats it, on the oozy bed
Produces store of reeds. No other plant,
Cover’d with leaves, or harden’d in its stalk,
There lives, not bending to the water’s sway.
After, this way return not; but the sun
Will show you, that now rises, where to take
The mountain in its easiest ascent."
He disappear’d; and I myself uprais’d
Speechless, and to my guide retiring close,
Toward him turn’d mine eyes. He thus began;
"My son! observant thou my steps pursue.
We must retreat to rearward, for that way
The champain to its low extreme declines."
The dawn had chas’d the matin hour of prime,
Which deaf before it, so that from afar
I spy’d the trembling of the ocean stream.
We travers’d the deserted plain, as one
Who, wander’d from his track, thinks every step
Trodden in vain till he regain the path.
When we had come, where yet the tender dew
Strove with the sun, and in a place, where fresh
The wind breath’d o’er it, while it slowly dried;
Both hands extended on the watery grass
My master plac’d, in graceful act and kind.
Whence I of his intent before appriz’d,
Stretch’d out to him my cheeks suffus’d with tears.
There to my visage he anew restor’d
That hue, which the dun shades of hell conceal’d.
Then on the solitary shore arriv’d,
That never sailing on its waters saw
Man, that could after measure back his course,
He girt me in such manner as had pleas’d
Him who instructed, and O, strange to tell!
As he selected every humble plant,
Wherever one was pluck’d, another there
Resembling, straightway in its place arose.
CANTO II
Now had the sun to that horizon reach’d,
That covers, with the most exalted point
Of its meridian circle, Salem’s walls,
And night, that opposite to him her orb
Sounds, from the stream of Ganges issued forth,
Holding the scales, that from her hands are dropp’d
When she reigns highest: so that where I was,
Aurora’s white and vermeil-tinctur’d cheek
To orange turn’d as she in age increas’d.
Meanwhile we linger’d by the water’s brink,
Like men, who, musing on their road, in thought
Journey, while motionless the body rests.
When lo! as near upon the hour of dawn,
Through the thick vapours Mars with fiery beam
Glares down in west, over the ocean floor;
So seem’d, what once again I hope to view,
A light so swiftly coming through the sea,
No winged course might equal its career.
From which when for a space I had withdrawn
Thine eyes, to make inquiry of my guide,
Again I look’d and saw it grown in size
And brightness: thou on either side appear’d
Something, but what I knew not of bright hue,
And by degrees from underneath it came
Another. My preceptor silent yet
Stood, while the brightness, that we first discern’d,
Open’d the form of wings: then when he knew
The pilot, cried aloud, "Down, down; bend low
Thy knees; behold God’s angel: fold thy hands:
Now shalt thou see true Ministers indeed."
Lo how all human means he sets at naught!
So that nor oar he needs, nor other sail
Except his wings, between such distant shores.
Lo how straight up to heaven he holds them rear’d,
Winnowing the air with those eternal plumes,
That not like mortal hairs fall off or change!"
As more and more toward us came, more bright
Appear’d the bird of God, nor could the eye
Endure his splendor near: I mine bent down.
He drove ashore in a small bark so swift
And light, that in its course no wave it drank.
The heav’nly steersman at the prow was seen,
Visibly written blessed in his looks.
Within a hundred spirits and more there sat.
In Exitu Israel de Aegypto;
All with one voice together sang, with what
In the remainder of that hymn is writ.
Then soon as with the sign of holy cross
He bless’d them, they at once leap’d out on land,
The swiftly as he came return’d. The crew,
There left, appear’d astounded with the place,
Gazing around as one who sees new sights.
From every side the sun darted his beams,
And with his arrowy radiance from mid heav’n
Had chas’d the Capricorn, when that strange tribe
Lifting their eyes towards us: "If ye know,
Declare what path will Lead us to the mount."
Them Virgil answer’d. "Ye suppose perchance
Us well acquainted with this place: but here,
We, as yourselves, are strangers. Not long erst
We came, before you but a little space,
By other road so rough and hard, that now
The’ ascent will seem to us as play." The spirits,
Who from my breathing had perceiv’d I liv’d,
Grew pale with wonder. As the multitude
Flock round a herald, sent with olive branch,
To hear what news he brings, and in their haste
Tread one another down, e’en so at sight
Of me those happy spirits were fix’d, each one
Forgetful of its errand, to depart,
Where cleans’d from sin, it might be made all fair.
Then one I saw darting before the rest
With such fond ardour to embrace me, I
To do the like was mov’d. O shadows vain
Except in outward semblance! thrice my hands
I clasp’d behind it, they as oft return’d
Empty into my breast again. Surprise
I needs must think was painted in my looks,
For that the shadow smil’d and backward drew.
To follow it I hasten’d, but with voice
Of sweetness it enjoin’d me to desist.
Then who it was I knew, and pray’d of it,
To talk with me, it would a little pause.
It answered: "Thee as in my mortal frame
I lov’d, so loos’d forth it I love thee still,
And therefore pause; but why walkest thou here?"
"Not without purpose once more to return,
Thou find’st me, my Casella, where I am
Journeying this way; I said,
but how of thee
Hath so much time been lost?" He answer’d straight:
"No outrage hath been done to me, if he
Who when and whom he chooses takes, me oft
This passage hath denied, since of just will
His will he makes. These three months past indeed,
He, whose chose to enter, with