Dante
Just a guy here, or JAGGY Jaggerson, as some people have called me.
The project is Dante's Inferno, and maybe also Purgatory. Mandelbaum is the translator of choice here, or so I have heard. I found my copy and read the intro and did not like it much: seemed that Mandelbaum was, by choice, speaking to a pedantic audience--seemed that he was too much involved in his own efforts--and he made at least The Inferno seem like nothing more than Dante's attempt to out-do his own predecessors and contemporaries (ie. Aquinas). I have no doubt that you must have ego in proportion to your ambition--and to write an epic of this scope is no small feat, but all that is neither here nor there for me. What's great about it? Why does it deserve to be a part of the Western canon? The intro didn't get involved in that. Perhaps that's good though--I certainly don't want to spoil any of the surprise. Nevertheless, Mandelbaum, in pointing out Dante's all-too-direct allusions to his predecessors (--apparently, Virgil is his guide in The Inferno), made the work seem no better in spirit than Mandelbaum's own sycophancy. But screw it, let's get to the book.
Here's the plan: a Canto or two per day. We'll see what my class can stomach. We might pick it up or slow it down, but starting tomorrow, Monday, May 11, let's read Cantos I and II.
What say, my friends?
PS. Thanks arh1 for the "stub."... I, too, am ready.
Slippery Joaquin's Photos
Am I getting it?
I was going to make a quick "last" comment below, and then I started seeing what Dante might be doing here. If he is, I personally vouch for his greatness--though, I am no more inclined to Christianity than I ever was (--it still strikes me as basically resentful and mendacious, but Dante's spirit might be something else all together). Here is the post from below (bear with me a little at first--I stumble into the light):
Yes, prayer and recognition by the living, if not fame and reputation exactly, can better your status in the afterworld. It's definitely something Dante is struggling to make clear trhoughout Purgatory. At one point, someone who should have been condemned to a lower terrace is raised up by the ardent prayers of his wife. "Indeed [the living] should help them to wash away/ the stains they carried from this world, so that,/ made pure and light, they reach the starry wheels." And yet, "Worldly renown is nothing other than/ a breath of wind that blows now here, now there,/ and changes name when it has changed its course." So he seems to suggest that those in Hell are lost utterly, and so their desire for recognition is therefore less noble than that of the sinners who are purging themselves in Purgatory--generally, they care more for prayers, than for remembrance--well, I say that, and yet Beatrice who confronts Dante in Eden (the last seven cantos of Purgatory), seems pissed off about his failing to remain faithful to her memory. Hmmm. Dante does fault himself in Purgatory for his own excessive pride too, I should recall:
"I fear much more the punishment below;
my soul is anxious, in suspense; already
I fell the heavy weights of the first terrace."
The first terrace, from which he had just ascended was where the prideful bent under the weight of giant stones they were condemned to carry. This does give Dante, the protagonist, some dynamic quality. In fact, I wonder if that's the real beauty of his masterpiece--the very thing that explains the fusion of the literal and the abstract: Dante is writing a "true" story here--this is his own, somewhat self-assigned, purgation--his penance and repentance. Yowzers! That's it, isn't it? That's why everything is fair game. The book is wholly autobiographical--anything he thinks, however he has been taught--whatever informs his imagination, is welcome. We must see this as his "actual" attempt at self-possession. Holy shit! I think I get it. Does that mean I should read Paradisio? Maybe, maybe, maybe.
"O Christians, arrogant, exhausted, wretched,
whose intellects are sick and cannot see,
who place your confidence in backward steps,
do you not know that we are worms and born
to form the angelic butterfly that soars,
without defenses, to confront His judgment?
Why does your mind presume to flight when you
are still like imperfect grub, the worm
before it has attained its final form?" (Purgatory Canto X)
Also, I will want to add this to the question of ethics below:
"There's he who, through abasement of another,
hopes for supremacy; he only longs
to see his neighbor's excellence cast down.
Then there is one who, when he is outdone,
fears his own loss of fame, power, honor, favor;
his sadness loves misfortune for his neighbor.
And there is he who, over injury
received, resentful, for revenge grows greedy
and, angrily, seeks out another's harm."
Well, I would be hard-pressed to say that this book does not represent and propitiate the very type of thinking it condemns above. Yes, we are far from the Evangel here. And yet, Dante seems to be aware of that: Christ is recognized as evangelic in Purgatory--not as fire and brimstone Paul-like stuff. Hmmm, I wonder if Paradisio is Dante's freedom from resentment--his utter forgiveness--I wonder if that goes hand in hand with being beside Christ. Remember, Christ and God are not the same dudes. Christ is prometheus--the soul of endless compassion. God is a jealous, scary, bent on justice kind of guy... In other words, Hell and Heaven are God's work. Christ is one love for all. Shit! I think I have to read Paradisio, just to see if I am right.
just finished yesterday.
just finished yesterday. wish i'd had more to add here, but i'll go back and catch up on your previous comments, JAG, and see if that stirs any responses.
by chance, i did here Beck's Satan gave me a taco yesterday.
i also had my own version of hell being stuck in the Boston T green line with a whole lot of people as they announced serious delays ahead, and i had 30 minutes to catch my bus. that's probably just 3rd circle stuff, though.
3rd circle, huh?
What about the third terrace? Purgatory ascends through much the same set up as Inferno, and for each of the "seven deadly sins" there is a terrace of purgation--of delay and purgation.
I am half-way through Purgatory, and contrary to what I have heard from others, I am enjoying it as much as Inferno. In a lot of ways, it gives substance to Inferno, taking up and expounding upon many of its own assertions. It's almost like Dante is joining our book club and responding to the questions I asked below (--his answers, by the way, do not strike me as particularly persuasive or even honest). That said, I would not say I am ecstatic about Dante--glad I read it, suspect it will be surprisingly useful to me in thought or conversation, but no where near the top of my personal list, and no where as original or exciting as Homer or Ovid or Virgil (--that probably because of its own secondary status or allusive--clever--foundation, and because of all the Catholic--reward--resentment--demeaning nature). Perhaps the poetry of it merits all the hype it garners...
Let's keep the conversation going, indeed, but know I am ready for In Defense of Food--have it on my desk and am waiting for you to say the word.
Purgatrio
I have graduated to Purgatory, but I do not intend to give it the same treatment here--I don't have the time. I may write a quotation or two or six hundred--I'll keep that door open, but probably only as supplements to our discussion below (ie. my recent reply to Hieb's reply about Event Horizon).
Finished
Contrary to common appraisal, I liked Purgatory almost as much as Inferno, and I have a much better sense of why Dante merits to be in the Western canon. Granting the missing link he provides--the fusion of pagan and Christian worship, the aesthetic quality of his whole endeavor becomes more clear in Purgatory. It seems that the closer to heaven he goes the more philosophical or theological he becomes--less eye candy, sure, but more substance (--if you find his arguments compelling or edurable). Now, if the end of Purgatory is any indication of what is to come in Paradise, I don't think I will be missing anything too special (--and, as it turns out, I plan on missing it--I can only endure so much, it seems). But that still leaves me the right to appreciate the artistic design of the whole. So here it is: my appreciation of the overall design, along with my recognition of the limitations of that design--the Christian design. I mean, please show me a Heaven that doesn't bore the shit our of you. You can't. Not in any systematic way. That's one thing Dante and Milton prove. The design won't permit it. These literal fire-and-brimstone kind of preachers are best to stay with fire and brimstone, because straying too much from it, too far upward, as it were, the whole set-up falls flat on its face.
Hmmm. That makes me wonder, again, whether the after-life is best left to omission and imagination--best, that is, for the mendacious intentions of, as Nietzsche calls them, "the afterworldly," or "the despisers of the body," or "the preachers of death" (--all from Zarathustra). Dante and Milton, both, do they make what I assume most believers take for the literal truth of Hell and of afterlife "fictive" (that's Dante's own word)? I mean, doesn't Christianity stand as vulnerable to the stigma that has become the word "pagan" with such accounts as these--poetically unparalleled, but still "art"? I wouldn't say, anymore, that Dante is unfettered by the distinction between "art" and "reality"--he spends so much ink telling the reader not to be troubled by the distinction, lest one should reveal himself to lack subtlety of mind.
"O fantasy, you that at times would snatch
us so from outward things--we notice nothing
although a thousand trumpets sound around us--
who moves you when the senses do not spur you?
A light that finds its form in Heaven moves you--
directly or led downward by God's will." (Purgatory, Canto XVII)
That's one of numerous examples. I don't know. I have made this point already: I mean what a scam, right?: you either buy it wholesale or you're an idiot--those are the only possibilities, apparently... Savvy.
Anyway, I was pleased to see Dante's subtle treatment of free will--that's one surprise from Purgatory (the rest of Inferno's arguments are only padded in predictable ways, I feel). Free will, to Dante, at least, is not all that different from Nietzsche's more psychologically sound "free spirit." That is to say, both are achieved after long and difficult introspection and trial. The will is anything but free in reality, and Dante knows it. But he speaks of learning how to take greater possession of it--that's where the freedom comes in--when one learns how to withstand this or that stimuli or compulsion.
To make a poor example of it, it's like how I feel about chocolate cake. Granted I never was a big fan, but it is incredible how irresistible Devil's Food Cake is to my colleagues, when through a bit of effort, I am no longer even slightly inclined to eat them. Hence, I am free--freer than my fellows, to some inconsequential extent anyway. Now, unlike Dante, Nietsche would not say freedom is only reistance to this or that temptation,--at least rhetorically, he would say freedom is also the resistance of feeling any social pressure to behave in this or that way--self-possession--or at least self-guidance/stylization. In that way, my fellows may be at least as free as I--so long, that is, as they stop laboring so to excuse their guilt over eating the decadant treat. In either case, whether it's Dante's free will, or Nietzsche's free spirit, both, as I was saying must be achieved, not merely assumed (--the error of the immature). Here's Dante's Marco Lombard in Canto XVI of Purgatory:
"The heavens set your appetites in motion--
not all your appetites, but even if
that were the case, you have received both light
on good and evil, and free will, which though
it struggle in its first wars with the heavens,
then conquers all, if it has been well nurtured."
Here, Marco is saying that all fault and corruption lies in oneself, in man, not in the design, not by divine forces of either heaven or hell. Later (Canto XVIII), Virgil clarifies:
"And thus man does not know the source of his
intelligence of primal notions and
his tending toward desire's primal objects:
both are in you just as in bees there is
the honey-making urge; such primal will
deserves no praise, and it deserves no blame.
Now, that all other longings may conform
to this first will, there is in you, inborn,
the power that counsels, keeper of the threshold
of your assent: this is the principle
on which your merit may be judged, for it
garners and winnows good and evil longings.
Those reasoners who reached the roots of things
learned of this inborn freedom; the bequest
that, thus, they left unto the world of ethics.
Even if we allow necessity
as source for every love that flames in you,
the power to curb that love is still your own.
This noble power is what Beatrice
means by free will;...."
Beatrice, undoubtedly one of the great objects of love in all of literature, is also truth embodied.
With that, I will part with Dante, unless you arh1 should lure me back. Now, it's on to In Defense of Food.
thanks, JAG! i'm enjoying
thanks, JAG! i'm enjoying reading your comments. a few replies for later, but for now i'll stick with one zoomed-out thought/question from the very beginning of your post above: is Dante generally granted with being a crucial link between the Christian and the pagan in the western cannon, as you mention?
ah, here's how wikipedia puts it:
"The poem's imaginative and allegorical vision of the Christian afterlife is a culmination of the medieval world-view as it had developed in the Western Church."
Another Central Question
We must ask about Dante, the auhtor, and about his achievement. What is the merit of this work, which in many ways, is simply a catalogue of famous literary characters and historical people (and in some cases, of current people in current situations--mostly concerning Florence)? Is it properly placed in the Western canon? Or is it more clever than meritorious, like the movie Shakespeare in Love--a fun romp through the plot of Romeo & Juliet coupled with several Shakespearean allusions--fun, not original--not Shakespearean. Yes, yes, I know, most of Shakespeare's characters and plots were apocyphal too. But in Shakespeare, I would argue anyway, we have an unprecedented creation, not just of character, but of personality. Dante alludes to characters and stories. With the exceptions of the unfaithful lovers inspired by King Arthur tales, and of the poor bastard locked in a tower and trying not to eat his sons, Dante does not create much of a story--there is no real conflict driving the plot. Shakespeare, on the other, defines Hamlet--makes Hamlet, both play and character, what it will always be. (Of course, Dante deserves much more credit for his poetry than I can give him--it being lost, as Frost says, in translation.)
Now, the piece is a great admixture--a missing link between pagan and Catholic worship. Never mind Dante, what an interesting, conflicted and confused culture, bred him and his art--a culture as worthy as any of study. But is that it? What do you guys think? Is it Dante we canonize, or is it The Divine Comedy? Perhaps I must read to the rest of the whole before I ask this question though...
Central Questions
Almost as if I were responding to Hieb's last comment, here is some overview analysis...
Before rushing off to biographical notes or literary criticism, both of which are in my edition of Inferno, I wanted to put some of my own thoughts out there.
1. What do we think of Dante, the protagonist? He's compassionate--he and Virgil both are. There are a couple exceptions--shades that do not win their sympathy, especially in the last two circles. But for the most part Dante feels others' pain--provided the other is humbled or repentant. In the ninth circle, for instance, Dante promised to clear a shade's eyes if the shade would speak to him.
"And yet I did not open them for him;
and it was courtesy to show him rudeness." (XXXIII. 149)
Courteous "rudeness?" That's an interesting trick. His modifier, or more, his compulsion to use one, underlines his compassion, nevertheless.
And how about brave? He simply trusts and submits without any real choice to his guardian and guide, Virgil. "What pleases you will please me too:/ you are my lord; you know I do not swerve/ from what you will..." (XIX. 37). That said, the implication is that he is something special to have been given this particular task, to have earned the love of angelic essences, and to have received the services of the renowned Virgil. So he is not just a guy, like me. "I leave the gall and go for the sweet apples/ that I was promised by my truthful guide; but first I must descend into the center" (XVI. 61). Now, he does become more comfortable and less afraid as the book goes on--more demanding and more aware of his purpose throughout the book, which is to report on Hell. That is, he, as character and author, is either assigned or self-appointed the difficult task of, as Milton puts it in Paradise Lost, "justify[ing] the ways of God to men"--no small task, especially in a world so mixed in pagan and Christian sensibilities.
So, what is Dante's purpose, both as character and author? As character, one of the things he starts recognizing is how important fame or reputation is. Here is Virgil, encouraging Dante to keep moving:
"...for he who rests on down
or under covers cannot come to fame;
and he who spends his life without renown
leaves such a vestige of himself on earth
as smoke bequeaths to air or foam to water." (XXIV. 46))
Virgil and Dante both persuade shades throughout their journey to speak by offering Dante's ability, both as one of the living, and as sublime poet, to rescue or salvage reputation. "I am alive, and can be precious to you/ if you want fame... for I/ can set your name among my other notes" (XXXII. 91). Or once, a flaming spirit in the eighth pouch of the eighth circle, states that because he is convinced no one can never return "alive from this abyss," he will speak "without fear of infamy" (XXVII. 64). That raises a huge question:
2. Is fame or shame transcendent of even eternal punishment? "I suffer more because you've caught me/ in this, the misery you see, than I/ suffered when taken from the other life" (XXIV. 133). Does reputation matter, even in Hell? Perhaps, a better or resuscitated reputation betters your station in Hell? Or is it an old habit of concern, despite ultimate reality? It's a central irony to the work, as far as I can tell, or perhaps to the mores of the time. Only one of the shades Dante tries to coerce desires not to be remembered at all--and this, because of shame--not transcendence of concern. Generally, it is fame or infamy--Dante's control of either that wins him patience with the shades, while it is the divine sanction of his endeavor that wins him patience with all nonhuman things--giants, demons, etc.--or with gatekeepers. But even there, Virgil can cut to the chase too: he informs Antaeus, the giant, that Dante "can give you what is longed for here;/...He still can bring you fame within the world" (XXXI. 125). God sees everything, one presumes, but man doesn't--and there's the the last hope Hell affords, perhaps: though the eternal perspective has wiped the need for any such preoccupation away, at least one may still long to convince those who know no better--to mean something where something can still mean something. Hmmm.
3. This also raises the question of how literal his report is meant to be. Does Dante, the author, the real person--does he really intend to frighten his fellows into "good" behavior, or into concern for eternal fate? Consider Spinoza's "rewards of virtue are for slaves." Or maybe he means to console the revengeful and resentful with real and not just symbolic indemnification--that's a Christian tradition Nietzsche detests. Or does Dante intend to be allegorical? To my sensibilities, that would raise him up in ethical status, though perhaps make him less effective with the masses. The merger of pagan and Christian thinking makes the question difficult to answer. Perhaps he is doing both, wanting what's best from each. Consider the giant Nimrod in the ninth circle. The giants, children of Gaea (the Earth), shook Zeus's throne until Hercules and an arsenal of thunderbolts put down the coup. But Nimrod, the footnote tells us, was the king of Babylon, who built the Tower of Babel in Genesis. And thus, Nimrod is a giant who cannot speak intelligibly in Inferno.
Again and again, both Virgil and Dante speak of the "subtle" or more intelligent readers, who know how to plumb the depths of allegory--how to see the truth in it, and, seeing that truth, effect a change in how one conducts oneself. "O you possessed of sturdy intellects,/ observe the teaching that is hidden here/ beneath the veil of verses so obscure" (IX. 61). But it’s a huge question because it allows us to judge Dante himself... (I'll write more on this in reply.)
4. Before we take that up, let's consider another giant question: Dante's moral simplicity. There is an appendix in the book--a picture titled "The Universe of Dante," and it is relatively elaborate--relative, that is, to what I would draw up as a picture of "Dante's Moral Universe": a page, half black and half white. "And thus, in me/ one sees the law of counter-penalty" (XXVIII. 142). What is sinful to Dante? One of the connections constantly put forth is between art and nature--and nature is seen as the laws governing the universe, and therefore set up by a governor or God (--that's my favorite presumption of man: that order can only be the result of reason--a reasoning conscience). What is deemed sinful in Inferno, without exception, is what is deemed unnatural--unnatural being that which is contrary to God's intentions. Of course, this creates many problems. Are God and science friends then? Someone call up Darwin and Galileo, and let them know. Isn't so much of Christianity and other religions geared against the resistance of what is natural? And most importantly, deeming something natural or unnatural is ultimately arbitrary, isn't it? For what do we know of nature's purposes? Who are we to presume a natural functioning right or wrong, good or evil? I have a dandelion problem. Should I let them proliferate as they are so good at doing? Why should I feel "justified" destroying dandelions? How is the lawn they would overrun morally better? Bees sure like the dandelions better than they like my grass. That is, one arbitrary decision cannot back or be backed--be substantiated by another arbitrary decision. Perhaps Aristotle, in his Ethics and Physics, both amply alluded to in Inferno, has a clever way to get around this.
Now, art following nature--I generally agree with that premise, and I think this is the main effect of the consistent use of analogies throughout the work. And the art-nature relationship gives gravity to Dante's own endeavor, and to Virgil's, Ovid's, Homer's, etc. "'Let there be light': and there was light. And God saw...that it was good." And I love that we, in Dante, still seem to be before the time when myth became synonymous with fallacy. But nature as moral law gets sticky--good as moral, beauty as right--that's sticky. And justice as natural law get's really sticky. Assigning blame or the exact and proper punishment to this or that action is no where near as simple as Dante's version of Hell makes it seem.
Consider his treatment of homosexuals, which almost seems, to me, an Ahab-like fist in the air. Dante admires each "mo" he comes across. He is not merely sympathetic, as he is with the suicides. He lauds one of them, a former teacher, in much the same way he lauds Virgil. And yet, they are condemned, and not merely for "incontinence" like the unfaithful lovers in the second circle--no, they are guilty of violence against God--the third ring of the seventh circle. Apparently, "good works" matters less than a few other criteria. I mean where is Hugo's Valjean? Where's the recovered sinner? Or which crime or action is the one that identifies you as ultimately commendable or contemptible? I'll tell you this, if Homer, Socrates, Virgil and Walt Whitman are in Hell, while Mrs. Johnson of south suburbia, who buys her children all things good from Wal-Mart, is in Heaven--well, what the fuck?!
Often, the hellishness of the punishment, the ghastly nature of it is so impressionable that a reader may typically miss that its "appropriateness" is, at best, superficial. And even in a singular action, the question of justice is never so neat. As Walter Kaufmann makes clear in his Without Guilt and Justice, the question behind motivations and "natural" reasons of any act a person can perpetrate is always something of a chimera--not to mention the attempt to delineate how far-reaching the consequences of a crime are. Justice, for instance, will always fall way short of, say, the "natural" consequences of raping a child, even in Hell, I'll declaim. Much to talk about here...
By the by
Yes, prayer and recognition by the living, if not fame and reputation exactly, can better your status in the afterworld. It's definitely something Dante is struggling to make clear trhoughout Purgatory. At one point, someone who should have been condemned to a lower terrace is raised up by the ardent prayers of his wife. "Indeed [the living] should help them to wash away/ the stains they carried from this world, so that,/ made pure and light, they reach the starry wheels." And yet, "Worldly renown is nothing other than/ a breath of wind that blows now here, now there,/ and changes name when it has changed its course." So he seems to suggest that those in Hell are lost utterly, and so their desire for recognition is therefore less noble than the that of the sinners who are purging themselves in Purgatory--generally, they care more for prayers, than for remembrance--well, I say that, and yet Beatrice who confronts Dante in the earthly paradise (the last four cantos of Purgatory), seems pissed off about his failing to remain faithful to her memory. Hmmm. Dante does fault himself in Purgatory for his own excessive pride too, I should recall:
"I fear much more the punishment below;
my soul is anxious, in suspense; already
I fell the heavy weights of the first terrace."
The first terrace, from which he had just ascended was where the prideful bent under the weight of giant stones they were condemned to carry. This does give Dante, the protagonist, some dynamic quality. In fact, I wonder if that's the real beauty of his masterpiece--the very thing that explains the fusion of the literal and the abstract: Dante is writing a "true" story--this is his own--somewhat self-assigned--purgation--his penance and repentance. Yowzers! That's it isn't it? That's why everything is fair game. The book is wholly autobiographical--anything he thinks--however he has been taught--whatever informs his imagination is welcome. We must see this as the "actual" attempt at self-possession. Holy shit! I think I get it. Does that mean I should read Paradisio? Maybe, maybe, maybe.
"O Christians, arrogant, exhausted, wretched,
whose intellects are sick and cannot see,
who place your confidence in backward steps,
do you not know that we are worms and born
to form the angelic butterfly that soars,
without defenses, to confront His judgment?
Why does your mind presume to flight when you
are still like imperfect grub, the worm
before it has attained its final form?" (Purgatory Canto X)
Also, I will want to add this to the question of ethics below:
"There's he who, through abasement of another,
hopes for supremacy; he only longs
to see his neighbor's excellence cast down.
Then there is one who, when he is outdone,
fears his own loss of fame, power, honor, favor;
his sadness loves misfortune for his neighbor.
And there is he who, over injury
received, resentful, for revenge grows greedy
and, angrily, seeks out another's harm."
Well, I would be hard-pressed to say that this book does not represent and propitiate the very type of thinking it condemns above. Yes, we are far from the Evangel here. And yet, Dante seems to be aware of that: Christ is recognized as evangelical in Purgatory--not as fire and brimstone Paul-like stuff. Hmmm, I wonder if Paradisio is Dante's freedom from resentment--his utter forgiveness--I wonder if that goes hand in hand with being beside Christ. Shit! I think I have to read it...
Question 3: Literal/Allegorical?
"May God so let you, reader, gather fruit/ from what you read..." (XX. 19).
But what fruit can we gather from this work? What fruit are we meant to gather? On the face of it, Dante is strictly allegorical throughout the work, interweaving, as I have said already, pagan and Christian phantasmagoria. But time and again, he speaks of his visions as though they were real--as though they were true threats the God-fearing reader ought best to continually keep in mind. "If, reader, you are slow now to believe/ what I shall tell, that is no cause for wonder,/ for I who saw it hardly can accept it" (XXV. 46). Are we meant, then, to "accept it"--as literal truth? "O vengeance of the Lord, how you should be/ dreaded by everyone who now can read/ whatever was made manifest to me!" (XIV. 16)--and with an exclamation point, no less. Perhaps the emphasis is meant merely to counter the "strangeness" of his report (XXV. 143). Might we have been more inclined to believe it as literal truth, however fantastic it may be, in Dante's time? I don't know. Let's recall Virgil's apology to the suicide whom Dante injures:
"'...Wounded soul, if, earlier,
[Dante] had been able to believe what he
had only glimpsed within my poetry,
then he would not have set his hand against you;
but its incredibility made me
urge him to do a deed that grieves me deeply.'" (XIII. 46))
Obviously, the assumption that the people are as dim as the Dark Ages would suggest they are (--funny and always contradicted assumption of modernity). Perhaps, Dante's central argument is to read better or more carefully.
Here, allegory is truth--art is truth--visions are mysteriously more true than vision, itself. That's the trick which is so difficult for us to perform anymore--but in realizing it, I grow in appreciation of Virgil, Ovid, Homer, and all other mythologists--Moses, too. This is the tool that delves into the mysterious and lasting power of these works, and hence my pretend nostalgia for days of greater belief. But, here, while the imagination and science are fused, it is as full of heavy consequences as are nuclear bombs. The mythologists believed in the veracity (--dare I say, the divinity) of their visions. (I recall reading somewhere that even Tolkien, of the 20th Century, deplored allegory.) Of course, a different standard generally usurps theirs now, and calls their efforts ornamental flourish. But for them, these dreams hold kernels of truth--of eternal truth to be inferred and gleaned. Hyperbole and fantasy are meant to clarify, not disguise the truth.
"It grieved me then and now grieves me again
when I direct my mind to what I saw;
and more than usual, I curb my talent,
that it not run where virtue does not guide;
so that, if my kind star or something better
has given me that gift, I not abuse it." (XXVI. 19)
But the dichotomy of literal/allegorical strikes me as essential for another reason. Dante's own sensibility is too Christian--too reward system oriented, unlike that of his predecessors. That is, we can determine Dante's own quality of character in his fusion of Christian and pagan "truth."
Here is a note I wrote in the margin of his Inferno: "Is there not something low or slavish about assuming that someone will be punished--and you will be revenged in the afterlife? Isn't this Nietzsche's 'resentiment' or Spinoza's 'slave rewards?' Or do we take this all allegorically--not that there is Hell, but that sinners must suffer in life and be contemptible?" The only direct quotation I found that might support the latter is from XIX: "...your avarice afflicts the world:/ it tramples on the good, lifts up the wicked" (104). This "real world" consequence is obliterated by repeated threats that I assume are meant to be taken literally:
"Now you can see...how brief's the sport
of all those goods that are in Fortune's care,
for which the tribe of men contend and brawl;
for all the gold that is or ever was
beneath the moon could never offer rest
to even one of these exhausted spirits." (VII. 64)
Virgil is speaking to Dante here, early in the journey. But Dante gets the gist:
"O blind cupidity and insane anger,
which goad us on so much in our short life,
then steep us in such grief eternally!" (XII. 49)
Or again, near the end of the book, with all the umph of the whole endeavor behind it:
"O rabble, miscreated past all others,
there in the place of which it's hard to speak,
better if there you had been goats or sheep!"
Yowzers! Exclamation point! Exclamation point! The menace is real, and the shame beyond the endless punishments of Hell is having been stupid enough to have missed it here. And Dante, alas, reveals himself to be petty and bitter--unable to accept the fate of this world--unable to love fate, at all. There is no amor fati here.
cripes, man! what a comment
cripes, man! what a comment dump you did over the past few days. i'm more interested in your short commentaries than the quotations, and i'm trying to read along with those roughly as i get to those points in the book. hope to add some specific responses as i go...
The Ninth Circle (Cantos XXXI-XXXIV)
"But night is come again, and it is time
for us to leave; we have seen everything." (XXXIV)
And that's it. Satan or Beezlebub or Dis or Lucifer (I will leave the description to Dante) is at the furthest depth. Before him are traitors of four kinds: traitors to kin, to homeland or party, to guests, and finally to benefactors: Judas, Brutus and Cassius. What's interesting in that final grouping is the parallel fromed between Jesus Christ and Julius Caesar. That calls to my mind, Nietzsche's ideal, "the Roman Caesar with Christ's soul."
Much to talk about here...
I do not know what it is (perhaps the simple thrill of coming to the end of an endeavor), but the ninth circle was enthralling. I am excited to discuss it with you guys.
Quotations (XXXI-XXXIV)
"And he to me: 'It is because you try
to penetrate from far into these shadows
that you have formed such faulty images.
When you have reached that place, you shall see clearly
how much the distance has deceived your sense;
and, therefore, let this spur you on your way.'" (XXXI)
"Surely when she gave up the art of making
such creatures, Nature acted well indeed,
depriving Mars of instruments like these.
And if she still produces elephants
and whales, whoever sees with subtlety
holds her--for this--to be more just and prudent;
for where the mind's acutest reasoning
is joined to evil will and evil power,
there human beings can't defend themselves." (XXXI)
"Don't send us on to Tityus or Typhon;
this man can give you what is longed for here;
therefore bend down and do not curl your lip.
He still can bring you fame within the world,
for he's alive and still expects long life,
unless grace summon him before his time." (XXXI)
"...I bring myself to speak, yet speak in fear;
for it is not a task to take in jest,
to show the base of all the universe--
nor for a tongue that cries out, 'mama,' 'papa.'" (XXXII)
"O rabble, miscreated past all others,
there in the place of which it's hard to speak,
better if here you had been goats or sheep!" (XXXII)
"...as soon as any soul becomes a traitor,
as I was, then a demon takes its body
away--and keeps that body in his power
until its years have run their course completely." (XXXIII)
"And yet I did not open them for him;
and it was courtesy to show him rudeness." (XXXIII)
--here Dante promised to clear the "shade's" eyes if the shade would speak to him. Obviously, Dante welches, but apparently is "courteously rude."
"O reader, do not ask of me how I
grew faint and frozen then--I cannot write it:
all words would fall far short of what it was." (XXXIV)
--as in the few other moments this trick is used, Dante means to lasso our imagination and emotion by his announced ommision. Does it work?
See Below
I have added quotations to posts below. Check them out. I have also updated the vocabulary list.
The Eighth Circle (XVIII-XXX)
Well, the eighth circle sucks--I mean, it's hellish. But it's good reading. In the eighth circle, fraud is punished, and there are ten pouches in which fraud of various degrees of sinfulness is revenged. My mind is teeming with many questions and reactions, and I have collected several quotations I want to post, and I have pinned down a few themes that need careful consideration, but I will get to that later this week (maybe even tomorrow). For now, let's just say that God doesn't like fraud (--in fact, his ninth and worst circle, is also set up for the fraudulent of a second type--more on that later, of course).
After reading about the ninth pouch of the eighth circle, I recalled a revelation I once had. I was watching that terrible movie, Event Horizon, where some space ship unwittingly enters and returns from Hell. Anyone? Well, there is this terrible sequence of rapid shots that hinted more than showed the torments of hell--quick glimpses of unutterably macabre scenes--blood, pain, screams--disgusting stuff, such as you couldn't picture even in the field of battle. Did anyone also see this movie? Well, Dante becomes equally macabre near the end of the eighth circle, and it reminded me of this revelation: physical torture seems like a poor type of punishment--not half so hellish as one would guess at--scary, but not the worst of the worse that could be devised, or so it seems to me. Don't get me wrong, I am no fan of pain, but mentally there is not much a threat in it. That was my thinking. Worse than endless pain, or punishments to "fit" certain crimes, however egregious--worse for me, I remember realizing, would be directionlessness. That's it. Directionlessness. The pain, or whatever other elaborate trick of Fortune one could imagine befalling a spirit, is merely decorative--and poorly conceived. That's what I thought...how many years--how many lifetimes ago?
yes! i saw that same
yes! i saw that same terrible movie and that same terrible scene was branded into my brain. (i remember one guy had pulled out his own eyeballs and was holding them in his hands.)
but yeah, physical pain is lame in hell. i mean, if you can't die any more, don't you eventually just get used to the pain? another day at the office.
Kubrick, Dante and Nietzsche
According to Jack Nickelson, he was talking to Kubrick during the shoot of The Shining. Nickelson said, "This is kind of a dark story?" or something like that; and Kubrick responded, "Well, it suggests that there is life after death, and that's kind of optimistic, don't you think?"--again, something like that.
I remember having the thought after Event Horizon, and I was struck by how profound--or at least, how uniquely certain I felt that corporal punishment in Hell makes no sense. The power of that realization isn't coming across yet--perhaps, because it is an onion of many layers, and we are only men with few minutes...
Dante, in Purgatory, speaks of the "nature of shades," offering something of an answer to your final point:
"The Power has disposed such bodiless
bodies to suffer torments, heat and cold;
how this is done, He would not have us know.
Foolish is he who hopes our intellect
can reach the end of that unending road
only one Substance in three Persons follows."
What do you think? It strikes me as contradictory to speak to us in words, show us pictures, scare and amaze us, advertising the subtlety of mind that we could claim if the book has its literal or practical effect, and then to call us fools for asking questions...
I am reminded also of a few Nietzsche quotations (not exact here):
1. "The only thing I demand of a belief is that we may test it--I want no part of testless positions."
2. "Christian's confuse the fear of death for the fear of the after-life..."
3. "To think I actually feel better when I am inebriated--I would have to be a Christian to believe that."
--That last one spawn my play, "The Christian and the Drug Addict."
Quotations (XVIII-XXIV)
"O Highest Wisdom, how much art you show
in heaven, earth, and this sad world below,
how just your power is when it allots!" (XIX)
"What pleases you will please me too:
you are my lord; you know I do not swerve
from what you will; you know what is unspoken." (XIX)
"...because your avarice afflicts the world:
it tramples on the good, lifts up the wicked." (XIX)
"You've made yourselves a god of gold and silver;
how are you different from idolaters,
save that they worship one and you a hundred?" (XIX)
"May God so let you, reader, gather fruit
from what you read;..." (XX)
"Here pity only lives when it is dead:
for who can be more impious than he
who links God's judgment to passivity?" (XX)
"...so, not by fire but by the art of God,
below there boiled a thick and tarry mass
that covered..." (XXI)
"I turned around as one who is impatient
to see what he should shun but us dashed down
beneath the terror he has undergone,
who does not stop his flight and yet would look." (XXI)
"We made our way together with ten demons:
ah, what ferocious company! And yet
'in church with saints, with rotters in the tavern.'" (XXII)
"...wings were not
more fast than fear;..." (XXII)
"'Now you must cast aside your laziness,'
my master said, 'for he who rests on down
or under covers cannot come to fame;
and he who spends his life without renown
leaves usch as vestige of himself on earth
as smoke bequeaths to air or foam to water.
Therefore, get up; defeat your breathlessness
with spirit that can win all battles if
the body's heaviness does not deter it." (XXIV)
"...A just request
is to be met in silence, by the act." (XXIV)
"Oh, how severe it is, the power of God
that, as its vengeance, showers down such blows!" (XXIV)
More Quotations Still (XXV-XXX)
"If, reader, you are slow now to believe
what I shall tell, that is no cause of wonder,
for I who saw it hardly can accept it." (XXV)
"...may the strangeness plead for me
if there's been some confusion in my pen." (XXV)
"It grieved me then and now grieves me again
when I direct my mind to what I saw;
and more than usual, I curb my talent,
that it not run where virtue does not guide;
so that, if my kind star or something better
has given me that gift, I not abuse it." (XXVI)
"'Consider well the seed that gave you birth:
you were not made to live your lives as brutes,
but to be followers of worth and knowledge.'" (XXVI)
"But when I saw myself come to that part
of life when it is fitting for all men
to lower sails and gather in their ropes,
what once had been my joy was now dejection;..." (XXVII)
"'...one can't absolve a man who's not repented,
and no one can repent and will at once;
the law of contradiction won't allow it.'" (XXVII)
"...I am reassured by conscience,
that good companion, heartening a man
beneath the breastplate of its purity." (XXVIII)
"...And thus, in me
one sees the law of counter-penalty." (XXVIII)
"And this my master said: 'Don't let your thoughts
about him interrupt you from here on:
attend to other things, let him stay there;..." (XXIX)
"...unerring Justice,
the minister of the High Lord, punishes
the falsifiers she had registered." (XXIX)
"I mean to show him Hell." (XXIX)
--this is as close as we get to Virgil's reason for this journey.
"The rigid Justice that would torment me
uses, as most appropriate, the place
where I had sinned, to draw swift sighs from me." (XXX)
"...that fortune
brings you where men would quarrel in this fashion:
to want to hear such bickering is base." (XXX)
--Dante's rebuke of political pundits on cable news channels?
The Seventh Circle (Cantos XII-XVII)
Well, forget the Cristian rebuke of paganism completely, we enter into the Seventh Circle, pass the Wall of Dis and the Heretics of the Sixth circle, and we are more mytological than Christian. Centaurs, including Chiron, Harpies, tree stumps that bleed and plead for sympathy, we are unabashedly pagan and allegorical. And yet, the sins are Christian still. Virgil explains the differences in punishment between Circles Two through Five and Circles Seven through Nine. (I'll wait until you guys are at Canto XI before I comment on it).
In the Seventh Cricle, the divine revenge exacted upon the violent of different degrees, we see, in this order: Tyrants and Murderers, Suicides and Squanderers, Blasphemers, Sodomites, and Usurers. Yep, that's right, homosexuals are lower in hell than murderers and tyrants. But Dante's treatment of the homosexuals is different than you might suspect. Lots to talk about here.
Where are you guys?
Quotations
"...I thought the universe
felt love (by which, as some believe, the world
has often been converted into chaos)..." (XII)
"O blind cupidity and insane anger,
which goad us on so much in our short life,
then steep us in such grief eternally!" (XII)
"'...if, earlier,
he had been able to believe what he
had only glimpsed within my poetry [(Virgil's poetry, that is)],
then he would not have set his hand against you;
but its incredibility made me
urge him to do a deed that grieves me deeply.'" (XIII)
"...it is not right for any man to have
what he himself has cast aside." (XIII)
"O vengeance of the Lord, how you should be
dreaded by everyone who now can read
whatever was made manifest to me!" (XIV)
"O Capaneus, for your arrogance
that is not quenched, you're punished all the more:
no torture other than your own madness
could offer pain enough to match your wrath." (XIV)
--In this rare instance, Virgil is not at all compassionate or sympathetic. Dante and he are compassionate throughout, but there are interesting exceptions to this...
"If you pursue your star,
you cannot fail to reach a splendid harbor,
if in fair life, I judged you properly;
and if I had not died too soon for this,
on seeing Heaven was so kind to you,
I should have helped sustain you in your work." (XV)
"...for your good deeds, will be your enemy:
and there is cause--among the sour sorbs,
the sweet fig is not meant to bear its fruit." (XV)
"Within my memory is fixed--and now
moves me--your dear, your kind paternal image
when, in the world above, from time to time
you taught me how man makes himself eternal;
and while I live, my gratitude for that
must always be apparent in my words." (XV)
"One thing alone I'd have you plainly see:
so long as I am not rebuked by conscience,
I stand prepared for Fortune, come what may.
My ears find no new pledge in that prediction;
therefore, let Fortune turn her wheel as she
may please, and let the peasant turn his mattock." (XV)
"Ah, how much care men ought to exercise
with those whose penetrating intellect
can see our thoughts--not just our outer act!" (XVI)
"Faced with that truth which seems a lie, a man
should always close his lips as long as he can--
to tell it shames him, even though he's blameless;..." (XVI)
"...but then I felt the threat of shame, which makes
a servant--in his kind lord's presence--brave." (XVII)
Some words to know
lithe (I)- bending easily; flexible; supple
abject (III)- miserable; wretched
execrated (III)- to denounce scathingly; loathe; abhor
licit (V)- lawful; permitted
sullen (VII)- showing resentment and ill humor by morose, unsociable withdrawal; glum (According to Mandelbaum's footnotes, "sullen" may suggest either "sloth" or "bitterness"--"sloth" being more simply Christian, and "bitterness" being Aristotilian--apparently, Aristotle is followed pretty closely thoughout Inferno.)
soused (VIII)- to plunge into a liquid; to make or become soaking wet
reboantic (IX)- loudly reechoing or reverberating
acrid (IX)- sharp or bitter in taste or smell; bitter in speech
simony (XI)- the buying or selling of sacraments or benefices
barratry (XI)- the criminal offense of habitually bring about quarrels or lawsuits (In the eighth cricle, "barrators" seemed to be people who accept bribes, though.)
inconitinence (XI)- without self restraint (The footnotes offer this definition: "the excessive indulgence of, or submission to, passions that in moderation are lawful.")
cupidity (XII)- strong desire for wealth; avarice
sorbs (XV)- the furit of any of a number of European trees of the rose family
scurf (XV)- little dry scales shed by the skin, as dandruff
quartan (XVII)- a type of malaria in which the paroxysms occur every fourth day
rapacious (XIX)- greedy, voracious; predatory
withe (XIX)- a tough, flexible twig, used for binding things
rampart (XIX)- an embankment of earth surmounted by a parapet for defending a fort
palsy (XX)- paralysis of any muscle, sometimes with involuntary tremors
fen (XX)- an area of low, flat, marshy land; swamp; bog
fetid (XX)- having a bad smell; stinking; putrid
wastrel (XXII)- one who wastes; a spendthrift
graft (XXII)- the dishonest use of one's position to gain money, etc., as in politics
kestrel (XXII)- a small European falcon
heliotrope (XXIV)- a plant with fragrant clusters of small, white or reddish-purple flowers; adj. reddish-purple
myrrh (XXIV)- a fragrant gum resin used in incense, perfumes, etc.
girt (XXVII)- same as gird; to fasten with a girth
dawdle (XXVIII)- to waste time in trifling; loiter
dropsied (XXX)- an ealier word for edema; ear-dropper
scrannel (XXXII)- thin, lean or slight; harsh and unmusical
Cantos III-XI
Yes, it's awesome. I have so much to say, but so little time to say it--I suppose that's my own circle of hell.
I suppose each of these posts, until I have time, will be "stubs." I was in the fifth circle, across the river Styx, locked out at the gate of Dis, when I first posted this. Now, I am entering into the circles of the more egregious crimes of violence and fraud in Canto XII. It's probably good I cannot say more--I don't want to ruin things for you and Mike (--yep, that's right, Mike Rudolph, of the hill people.)
Anyway, here are a few general notes:
1. While Christian in obvious ways, I am struck by how much of the pagan is preserved: mythological heroes, different Gods, like Pluto and Charon. I suppose this shouldn't surprise me. Much, if not most, of Christianity--and Christian phantasmagoria is rooted and not original. Its sense of being original, I am starting to understand, speaks more of its political sway than of its intellectual or artistic prowess. But perhaps that is true of paganism, as well--and true of everything else--and therefore not worth the mentioning. Whatever the case, paganism is not merely alluded to, it is the soil out of which this story grows, and it's the aspect I love most about the book.
2. Related to that, I asked my friend, Tony Hurt (teachers AP European History) whether Dante was writing to a Christian audience--singing to the choir, so to speak. But he said Catholicism was still pretty far off, which makes Dante avant-garde, and remarkably without becoming quaint. I'll have to look into this a bit... Possibly related point: all the tears and fainting seems unearned--as though it relies upon hightened sensitivity either of culture (Italians are great winers--ie. Italy-SKorea 2002) or of religious sympathy (the reason Passion of the Christ was so popularly moving, and yet hilarious to me and the Shark). Hmmmm...
3. I love the analogies. I have highlighted every one. Original phrasing, so long before our cliche's, refreshing and old at once... Their power is also in the tacit suggestion that hell is all around us--we can see it and relate to it in the most common things--if we have eyes to see it, that is.
4. The first circle (Canto IV)--that's where I would aspire to be, I'm pretty sure. I told my kids that and all their heads tipped askance. I suppose Paradise is nice. But that's my point--what do I care about ends? I live for and in the means, and do not seek justification by my end...
5. Somewhat related, I love that art (characters created by authors like Homer and Virgil) and life (Homer and Virgil) are fused in Hell--in the eternal--both are equally true or real. "...you'll see/ that when it can, your art would follow nature,/ just as a pupil imitates his master;/ so that your art is almost God's grandchild" (XI). And then Virgil goes on to explain that usurers fail to follow the code as set forth in Genesis, and therefore are punished. Much to take up here, indeed, but I love not only that Homer earns the same eternal fate as Socrates, but also that Aeneas and Achilles and many other characters, Medusa, Cerberus, and centaurs, are eternally true too. That makes me smile.
"The day was now departing; the dark air
released the living beings of the earth
from work and weariness; and I myself
alone prepared to undergo the battle
both of the journeying and of the pity,
which memory, mistaking not, shall show." (II)
This is followed by the classical invocation, calling on the Muses for their help in relating a tale. Now, perhaps Achilles and Madusa and Dis are all as real, as historical, as Homer and Virgil and Socrates, in a still pagan world of Dante--just as Adam and Eve, I suppose, and Cain and Abel... are probably real and historical today, in some circles anyway. I love that the imagination is true vision in Dante though. In more modern cases, imagination is a meaningless pastime--ornamental, if not superfluous. Hmmm. Much to talk about...
OK, I'll try to get some quotations up soon, or as Virgil says, "But you wait here for me, and feed and comfort/ your tired spirit with good hope, for I/ will not abandon you in this low world" (VIII).
More Quotations (III-VII)
"...the miserable people,
those who have lost the good of the intellect." (III)
"'My son,' the gracious master said to me,
'those who have died beneath the wrath of God,
all these assembled here from every country;
and they are eager for the river crossing
because celestial justice spurs them on,
so that their fear is turned into desire.'" (III)
"I cannot here describe them all in full;
my ample theme impels me onward so:
what's told is often less than the event." (IV)
"Her vice of lust became so customary
that she made license licit in her laws
to free her from the scandal she had caused." (V)
"Love, that releases no beloved from loving,
took hold of me so strongly through his beauty
that, as you see, it has not left me yet.
Love led the two of us unto one death." (V)
"Three sparks that set on fire every heart
are envy, pride, and avariciousness." (VI)
"...for my great longing drives me on to learn
if Heaven sweetens or Hell poisons them." (VI)
"Remember now your science,
which says that when a thing has more perfection,
so much the greater is its pain and pleasure." (VI)
"Justice of God! Who has amassed as many
strange tortures and travails as I have seen?
Why do we let our guilt consume us so?" (VII)
"'Now you can see, my son, how brief's the sport
of all those goods that are in Fortune's care,
for which the tribe of men contend and brawl;
for all the gold that is or ever was
beneath the moon could never offer rest
to even one of these exhausted spirits.'" (VII)
"Who made the heavens and who gave them guides
was He whose wisdom transcends everything;
that every part may shine unto the other,
He had the lightapportioned equally;
similarly, for worldly splendors, He
ordained a general minister and guide [(Fortune)]
to shift, from time to time, those empty goods
from nation unto nation, clan to clan,
in ways that human reason can't prevent;
just so, one people rules, one languishes,
obeying the decision she has given,
which, like a serpent in the grass, is hidden." (VII)
Even more quotations (VIII-XI)
Rmember that Canto XI is the one in which Virgil explains the organization of Hell, from the second circle to the fifth circle, and from the seventh circle to the ninth, the higher the number, the lower the depth, and the worse the sin and its punishment. In brief, circles two through five are for the sin of incontinence--or unrestrained passions, while circles seven, eight, and nine are reserved for violent crimes and two different levels of fraud respectively. The first level of fraud is a common practice of exploiting ignorance, and the second level of fraud is betrayal--earning the love of one who trusts you even while you are destroying him. Judas's circle is the lowest. Anyway, here are some more quotations:
"How many up above how count themselves
great kings, who'll wallow here like pigs in slime,
leaving behind foul memories of their crimes!" (VIII)
"O you possessed of sturdy intellects,
observe the teaching that is hidden here
beneath the veil of verses so obscure." (IX)
"Of every malice that earns hate in Heaven,
injustice is the end; and each such end
by force or fraud brings harm to other men.
However, fraud is man's peculiar vice;
God finds it more displeasing--and therefore,
the fraudulent are lower, suffering more." (XI)
"'Philosophy, for one who understands,
points out, and not in just in one place,' he said,
'how nature follows--as she takes her course--
the Divine Intellect and Divine Art...
...when it can, your art would follow nature,
just as a pupil imitates his master;
so that your art is almost God's grandchild.'" (XI)
Cantos I and II
Oh, it's great--I can already sense it, despite its being so damned Christian and jingoistic.
Read it aloud. It makes it come alive...
Nothing especially quotable yet, but one gets the sense one is sitting on a rumbling volcano. Hell's entrance stands at the top of Canto III: "...ABANDON EVERY HOPE, WHO ENTER HERE." You guys coming?
Quotations
"Moving again, I tried the lonely slope--
my firm foot always was the one below." (I)
"He governs everywhere, but rules from there;
there is His city, His high capital:
o happy those He chooses to be there!" (I)
"...and if truth be told, Rome and her realm
were destined to become the sacred place,
the seat of the successor of great Peter." (II)
"'Because you want to fathom things so deeply,
I now shall tell you promptly,' she replied,
'why I am not afraid to enter here.
One ought to be afraid of nothing other
than things possessed of power to do us harm,
but things innocuous need not be feared.'" (II)
yep, coming along, though
yep, coming along, though probably slower than your students.
yeah, that (most famous?) line got me pumped up, too. i'll see you in hell. awwww yeah!