gollum and hell
Feb. 15th, 2006 03:05 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
I think my journal will, for the next semester or so, become a collection of my thoughts on Dante. Not exclusively, of course, but this is what I'm thinking about, so I will spend a decent chunk of time and energy thinking about Dante, but hopefully in a way that will makes sense even if you have never read any Dante.
To start, I just want to say that I'm talking about what Dante says. So, unless I say otherwise, my own opinions on hell (as a place) will not come into my thoughts about hell (as Dante's literary construct, the Inferno). Or if they do, I will try to be clear what bits are what Dante thinks, and what bits are what I think.
We are still in the first half or so of Dante's Inferno. Last week, we raised a really interesting question, would the people in hell leave, if they could? This is not as straightforward as you might think. Everyone in the Inferno is being tormented. They are not happy. In fact, they are all pretty miserable. They are all being tormented, from the lustful at the very top, to the treacherous at the very bottom of hell. It would be silly to say that they enjoy the torment, because they quite obviously do not. Yet, there is nothing (physically) stopping them from leaving Hell. So, why don't they? Why don't they leave hell to go be happy in purgatory, or paradise, or maybe just haunt the earth?
The best way to find an answer to this question is to look for a minute at Dante's guide and mentor, the great pagan poet, Virgil. Let us be clear on the fact that Virgil is the best person in hell. He only lacks Christian baptism. He is in the great pagan paradise with the other great poets and philosophers. Virgil could leave, if he wanted to. He could just walk out the front gates of hell. Or, supposing that wouldn't work, he could go all the way down to the center of hell and come out the other side, the way he does with Dante. But he doesn't. He stays there, in Limbo, and doesn't even seem to want purgatory. Why would he stay there if he could just leave? The real answer is that Virgil doesn't want to leave.
There is something attractive about hell. Nobody leaves. Francesca and Paulo are forever whirled around in the circle of the lustful, when they could seemingly just let go of each other and walk out the front door. But that's just it. They won't walk out the front door. They would rather have each other, in misery, then leave. Now that the sin is revealed for what it truly is, they still want it more than they hate the punishment. Take for another example the wood of suicides. They are forever trapped within trees, no longer able to have their own bodies. The harpies tear on their branches, which drip out blood. But this is both the torment, and the release from the torment. They have what they really wanted, escape from their human bodies. But now they have it for what it really is, instead of what they thought it was.
Everyone in hell is there because they really want it. It's like Gollum with his precious. He knows that his precious is destroying him, and that it will go on destroying him if he actually gets it, but he still keeps seeking after the ring. He wants something that is no longer good, that will hurt him, and goes on wanting it, even though everyone would be quite willing to let him be happy. He has that choice, or at least, he had the choice at some point in the past.
There is no longer have a choice to be in hell, but that is because this is what they have always wanted. Stripped of any illusory good that might have come of the sin that they did, they are now experiencing the sin (because the punishment for sin is to experience the sin without any illusions, or accidental goodness). The gluttonous have gluttony, but without the good of food; they wallow in mud. The violent have the blood that they wanted, they swim in it.
You can feel pity for those in Dante's Hell, and it is right to feel pity for them. But it is with the realization that they would no longer leave, if they could. If you offered them paradise, they would turn from it to their precious, because they decided before they died that they wanted it more. They do not want the torment, but they do not want to leave. Even Virgil.
To start, I just want to say that I'm talking about what Dante says. So, unless I say otherwise, my own opinions on hell (as a place) will not come into my thoughts about hell (as Dante's literary construct, the Inferno). Or if they do, I will try to be clear what bits are what Dante thinks, and what bits are what I think.
We are still in the first half or so of Dante's Inferno. Last week, we raised a really interesting question, would the people in hell leave, if they could? This is not as straightforward as you might think. Everyone in the Inferno is being tormented. They are not happy. In fact, they are all pretty miserable. They are all being tormented, from the lustful at the very top, to the treacherous at the very bottom of hell. It would be silly to say that they enjoy the torment, because they quite obviously do not. Yet, there is nothing (physically) stopping them from leaving Hell. So, why don't they? Why don't they leave hell to go be happy in purgatory, or paradise, or maybe just haunt the earth?
The best way to find an answer to this question is to look for a minute at Dante's guide and mentor, the great pagan poet, Virgil. Let us be clear on the fact that Virgil is the best person in hell. He only lacks Christian baptism. He is in the great pagan paradise with the other great poets and philosophers. Virgil could leave, if he wanted to. He could just walk out the front gates of hell. Or, supposing that wouldn't work, he could go all the way down to the center of hell and come out the other side, the way he does with Dante. But he doesn't. He stays there, in Limbo, and doesn't even seem to want purgatory. Why would he stay there if he could just leave? The real answer is that Virgil doesn't want to leave.
There is something attractive about hell. Nobody leaves. Francesca and Paulo are forever whirled around in the circle of the lustful, when they could seemingly just let go of each other and walk out the front door. But that's just it. They won't walk out the front door. They would rather have each other, in misery, then leave. Now that the sin is revealed for what it truly is, they still want it more than they hate the punishment. Take for another example the wood of suicides. They are forever trapped within trees, no longer able to have their own bodies. The harpies tear on their branches, which drip out blood. But this is both the torment, and the release from the torment. They have what they really wanted, escape from their human bodies. But now they have it for what it really is, instead of what they thought it was.
Everyone in hell is there because they really want it. It's like Gollum with his precious. He knows that his precious is destroying him, and that it will go on destroying him if he actually gets it, but he still keeps seeking after the ring. He wants something that is no longer good, that will hurt him, and goes on wanting it, even though everyone would be quite willing to let him be happy. He has that choice, or at least, he had the choice at some point in the past.
There is no longer have a choice to be in hell, but that is because this is what they have always wanted. Stripped of any illusory good that might have come of the sin that they did, they are now experiencing the sin (because the punishment for sin is to experience the sin without any illusions, or accidental goodness). The gluttonous have gluttony, but without the good of food; they wallow in mud. The violent have the blood that they wanted, they swim in it.
You can feel pity for those in Dante's Hell, and it is right to feel pity for them. But it is with the realization that they would no longer leave, if they could. If you offered them paradise, they would turn from it to their precious, because they decided before they died that they wanted it more. They do not want the torment, but they do not want to leave. Even Virgil.