The Divine Comedy of Dante Alighieri: The Inferno — Dante Alighieri — John Shaqi
The Divine Comedy of Dante Alighieri: The Inferno
Dante Alighieri · en
A very few pages would therefore be enough to tell the events of Dante's
life as far as they are certainly known. But, to be of use as an
introduction to the study of his great poem, any biographical sketch
must contain some account--more or less full--of Florentine affairs
before and during his lifetime; for among the actors in these are to be
found many of the persons of the _Comedy_. In reading the poem we are
never suffered for long to forget his exile. From one point of view it
is an appeal to future ages from Florentine injustice and ingratitude;
from another, it is a long and passionate plea with his native town to
shake her in her stubborn cruelty. In spite of the worst she can do
against him he remains no less her son. In the early copies of it, the
_Comedy_ is well described as the work of Dante Alighieri, the
Florentine; since not only does he people the other world by preference
with Florentines, but it is to Florence that, even when his words are
bitter against her, his heart is always feeling back. Among the glories
of Paradise he loves to let his memory rest on the church in which he
was baptized and the streets he used to tread. He takes pleasure in her
stones; and with her towers and palaces Florence stands for the
unchanging background to the changing scenes of his mystical pilgrimage.
The history of Florence during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries
agrees in general outline with that of most of its neighbours. At the
beginning of the period it was a place of but little importance, ranking
far below Pisa both in wealth and political influence. Though retaining
the names and forms of municipal government, inherited from early times,
it was in reality possessed of no effective control over its own
affairs, and was subject to its feudal superior almost as completely as
was ever any German village planted in the shadow of a castle. To
Florence, as to many a city of Northern and Central Italy, the first
opportunity of winning freedom came with the contest between Emperor
and Pope in the time of Hildebrand. In this quarrel the Church found its
best ally in Matilda, Countess of Tuscany. She, to secure the goodwill
of her subjects as against the Emperor, yielded first one and then
another of her rights in Florence, generally by way of a pious gift--an
endowment for a religious house or an increase of jurisdiction to the
bishop--these concessions, however veiled, being in effect so many
additions to the resources and liberties of the townsmen. She made Rome
her heir, and then Florence was able to play off the Papal against the
Imperial claims, yielding a kind of barren homage to both Emperor and
Pope, and only studious to complete a virtual independence of both.
Florence had been Matilda's favourite place of residence; and,
benefiting largely as it did by her easy rule, it is no wonder that her
name should have been cherished by the Florentines for ages after as a
household word.[1] Nor is the greatest Florentine unmindful of her.