An Irish precursor of Dante : $b a study on the Vision of Heaven and Hell ascribed to the eighth-century Irish saint Adamnán, with translation of the Irish text
Dante Alighieri · en
The vision over, Tundale begged to be allowed to stay, but the Angel
told him that he must return to the body. He further bade him remember
what he had seen, that he might deliver it to the people of the world.
He engaged Tundale to eschew evil in future, and promised to protect
and counsel him.
For several reasons, it seemed advisable to relate Tundale’s vision
with some fulness of detail. In the first place, it can hardly be
that a work which so soon acquired, and long maintained, an immense
popularity throughout all Western Christendom, failed to exercise
great influence in the way of fixing, if not of determining, the views
generally held concerning the Otherworld. Further, as the work of an
Irish author, written in the centre of Europe, and almost immediately
adopted throughout the West; embodying, moreover, while continuing
and enlarging, the ideas currently held by members of the Christian
Church respecting the future life, and, at the same time, containing
many elements of distinctly Irish, and even pagan, origin, it reveals
beyond dispute the existence, the manner, and, partly, the extent of
the contribution which the legend made to the development of modern
literature, after quitting the soil upon which it had matured.
The Vision of Tundale has many points in common with the _Fis
Adamnáin_, _e.g._ the preference accorded to the martyrs and ascetics,
the special provision made for the charitable sinners, the nine
orders of Heaven, the episodes of the bridges and the Tree of Life,
etc. Like Adamnán, Tundale expressed a desire to remain in Paradise,
but was bidden return, and relate what he had seen. From a literary
point of view, the work is decidedly inferior to the _Fis_; it is
retrograde, too, in the absence of a definite scheme of the Otherworld;
historically, however, it marks a forward step in the development of
the purgatorial idea, of which, perhaps, it affords the most complete
example which religious fiction contains, prior to its final perfection
by Dante. It also prepares the way for the group of legends associated
with St. Patrick’s Purgatory, for it introduces the idea of the Seer
himself suffering the purgatorial pains, with a view to his own
redemption; Tundale’s vision, however, contains no suggestion of a
local purgatory in this world. In both these respects, he is followed
by Dante, to some extent, though the comparatively slight annoyances
endured by the latter during his ascent of the purgatorial mount--with
the exception of the fiery wall, for which there was a special
reason--were rather, so to speak, incidents of travel, necessitated by
the nature of the country through which he had to pass, than sufferings
inflicted on him for his purgation. In one respect, Marcus merits to be
raised to a bad eminence among his kind: we have marked already, in the
development of the Irish idea of the Otherworld, a growing tendency to
accumulate horrors, and to elaborate and multiply painful details; but