Paradiso Art and Culture Quotes

How we cite our quotes: Citations follow this format: (Canto.Line). We used Allen Mandelbaum's translation.

Quote #1

O good Apollo, for this final task,
make me the vessel of your excellence,
what you, to merit your loved laurel, ask.
Until this point, one of Parnassus' peaks
sufficed for me; but now I face the test,
the agon that is left; I need both crests…
O godly force, if you so lend yourself
to me, that I might show the shadow of
the blessed realm inscribed within my mind,
then you would see me underneath the tree
you love; there I shall take as crown the leaves
of which my theme and you shall make me worthy.
So seldom, father, are those garlands gathered
for triumph of a ruler or a poet –
a sign of fault or shame in human wills –
that when Peneian branches can incite
someone to long and thirst for them, delight
must fill the happy Delphic deity. (Par. I, 13-33)

Dante gives a nod to Classical literature as he invokes the Greek god Apollo and the Muses to help him remember the sights he sees in Heaven. Here, Dante shows how eager he is to become the classic poet-prophet figure often seen in Classical literature, who wears Apollo's crown of laurel leaves. He promises Apollo that if he grants inspiration to his pen, Dante will be worthy of the laurels. This passage foreshadows a similar passage in Canto XXV.

Quote #2

[Beatrice]: "Yet it is true that, even as a shape
may, often, not accord with art's intent,
since matter may be unresponsive, deaf,
so, from this course, the creature strays at times
because he has the power, once impelled
to swerve elsewhere; as lightning from a cloud
is seen to fall, so does the first impulse,
when man has been diverted by false pleasure,
turn him toward earth." (Par. I, 127-135)

In describing the order of the universe, Beatrice characterizes God as an artist whose perfect vision is not always realized.

Quote #3

[Justinian]: "Differing voices join to sound sweet music;
so do the different orders in our life
render sweet harmony among these spheres." (Par. VI, 124-126)

That the shades in the Heaven of Mercury are content with their relatively low position – in accordance with God's will – is expressed in music. Each with its different degree of blessedness, the individual souls' voices "join to sound sweet music." The harmony of the often-cited music of the spheres can thus be seen as the combined harmonious effect of vast numbers of singers – all individually different – but united in their conformity with God's will.

Quote #4

Just as, concentric, like in color, two
rainbows will curve their way through a thin cloud
when Juno has commanded her handmaid,
the outer rainbow echoing the inner,
much like the voice of one – the wandering nymph –
whom love consumed as sun consumes the mist
(and those two bows let people here foretell,
by reason of the pact God made with Noah,
that flood will never strike the world again):
so the two garlands of those everlasting
roses circled around us, and so did
the outer circle mime the inner ring. (Par. XII, 10-21)

This passage combines two visual images with a metaphor. The two rings of dancers in the sphere of the sun look like a double rainbow, the products of Juno's handmaiden, Iris. Again, this shows Dante's respect for Classical literature even when writing in a Christian vein. He gives this Classical reference a Christian meaning, taking Iris' rainbow to signify the pact made between God and Noah after the great Flood, which stipulated that He would never flood the earth again.

Quote #5

[St. Thomas]: But that which never dies and that which dies
are only the reflected light of that
Idea which our Sire, with Love, begets;
because the living Light that pours out so
from Its bright Source that It does not disjoin
from It or from the Love intrined with them,
through Its own goodness gathers up Its rays
within nine essences, as in a mirror,
Itself eternally remaining One.
From there, from act to act, light then descends
down to the last potentialities,
where it is such that it engenders nothing
but brief contingent things, by which I mean
the generated things the moving heavens
bring into being, with or without seed.
The wax of such things and what shapes that wax
are not immutable; and thus, beneath
Idea's stamp, light shines through more or less.
Thus it can be that, in the selfsame species,
some trees bear better fruit and some bear worse,
and men are born with different temperaments.
For were the wax appropriately readied,
and were the heaven's power at its height,
the brightness of the seal would show completely;
but Nature always works defectively –
she passes on that light much like an artist
who knows his craft but has a hand that trembles." (Par. XIII, 52-78)

One can view the difference between objects created by God (like heaven, the angels, and man), and things created by the "nine essences" ("brief contingent things") as the difference between a superior and inferior artist. God, who is perfect, is the superior artist whose direct creations are very close to perfect, reflecting His glory. The nine Angelic Intelligences, however, are inferior artists whose creations – which reflect only a part of His power on imperfect matter.

Quote #6

Lights moved along that cross from horn to horn
and from the summit to the base, and as
they met and passed, they sparkled, radiant:
so, straight and slant and quick and slow, one sees
on earth, the particles of bodies, long
and short, in shifting shapes, that move along
the ray of light that sometimes streaks across
the shade that men devise with skill and art
to serve as their defense against the sun.
And just as harp and viol, whose many chords
are tempered, taut, produce sweet harmony
although each single note is not distinct,
so, from the lights that then appeared to me,
out from that cross there spread a melody
that held me rapt, although I could not tell
what hymn it was. (Par. XIV, 109-124)

An important Christian symbol, the Cross, is here recreated as living work of art. This piece of art is not living in the sense that it is made of living beings, and also in that it is in constant movement, with flitting lights and "shifting shapes." It is not only a visual piece of art, but an aural one as well, as demonstrated by the "sweet harmony" produced by the multitude of lights all singing together.

Quote #7

With each light settled quietly into place,
I saw that the array of fire had shaped
the image of an eagle's head and neck.
He who paints there has no one as His guide:
He guides Himself; in Him we recognize
the shaping force the flows from nest to nest. (Par. XVIII, 106-111)

The Eagle, formed by the souls in the sphere of Jupiter, is described as a work of art, and God is described as the artist. Since God designed the Eagle, he very well may also have written the message which came earlier, "Diligite iustitiam, qui iudicatis terram," suggesting that God is also a craftsman in the art of poetry.

Quote #8

I seemed to hear the murmur of a torrent
that, limpid, falls from rock to rock, whose flow
shows the abundance of its mountain source.
Even as sound takes shape at the lute's neck,
and even as the wind that penetrates
the blow-hole of the bagpipe, so – with no
delay – that murmur of the Eagle rose
straight up, directly through its neck as if
its neck were hollow; and that murmuring
became a voice that issued from its beak,
taking the shape of words desired by
my heart – (Par. XX, 19-30)

This seems to be a lesser version of the music of the spheres, in which a number of souls all sing in unison, but with their individual voices, to form a single song full of vibrant harmonies. Here, the individual voices of the souls form a murmuring which becomes the Eagle's thunderous voice. Dante compares this to the wind in the bagpipe.

Quote #9

Whatever melody most sweetly sounds
on earth, and to itself most draws the soul,
would seem a cloud, that, torn by lightning, thunders,
if likened to the music of that lyre
which sounded from the crown of that fair sapphire,
the brightest light that has ensapphired heaven. (Par. XXIII, 97-102)

The art in heaven – especially its music – far surpasses anything heard on earth. Indeed, mortals' music seems crude – a thundering "cloud, torn by lightning" – when compared to the angels' song as they hymn for Mary.

Quote #10

And I saw light that took a river's form –
light flashing, reddish-gold, between two banks
painted with wonderful spring flowerings.
Out of that stream there issued living sparks,
which settled on the flowers on all sides,
like rubies set in gold; and then, as if
intoxicated with the odors, they
again plunged into the amazing flood:
as one spark sank, another spark emerged. (Par. XXX, 61-69)

The beauty of the garden holding the Celestial Rose in the Empyrean is described as a painting. In this case, one can assume the artisan is God. What is so amazing about this scene is that the rich and colorful garden Dante sees here – full of "reddish-gold" light, "wonderful spring flowers" and "living sparks…settl[ing] on flowers" – shows but a fraction of its true beauty. Dante must improve his vision to see it in all its true glory. Interestingly, this art has an organic component (the "living sparks," indicative of shining souls); it is not merely an inanimate crafted object. The difference, then, between God and a traditional artist is that he can infuse his art with life.

Quote #11

So, in the shape of that white Rose, the holy
legion was shown to me – the host that Christ,
with His own blood, had taken as His bride. (Par. XXXI, 1-3)

As Dante hints here, the Celestial Rose – where all the blessed souls sit – is well-organized. It shows that this is not a random object thrown into being by nature, but a carefully designed object. The Rose, in its order and symmetry, is a work of art.

Quote #12

O grace abounding, through which I presumed
to set my eyes on the Eternal Light
so long that I spent all my sight on it!
In its profundity I saw – ingathered
and bound by love into one single volume –
what, in the universe, seems separate, scattered:
substances, accidents, and dispositions
as if conjoined – in such a way that what
I tell is only rudimentary. (Par. XXXIII, 82-90)

In the final lines of Paradiso, Dante compares God to "one single volume." This is not only a clever play on the word of God, but also evidence that God is an artist. He takes "what, in the universe, seems separate, scattered" and "conjoin[s]" it in a way that is so perfectly ordered that Dante can only speak of it in a "rudimentary" way.