Accompanying this post is the painting by Marc Chagall titled, "Adam and Eve." It speaks in modern terms about the joys and the dangers of being face to face with the "other" and, not only a product of inspiration, it speaks to the reality of inspiration as found in Dante's Commedia. Gregorian's version of the Roberta Flack classic, "The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face," echoes the face to face theme.
English translations of Dante's Commedia commonly divide it into three more manageable parts--"Inferno," "Purgatorio," and "Paradiso." "Inferno" is more generally studied in high school or undergraduate settings because it is deemed more "interesting," more captivating. Why is that so? And does it suggest that evil and death is more "interesting" than life and beauty and goodness?
I believe that such "interest" comes from the "safe" imaginative encounter with the forbidden, with taboo, with terror, with evil, with death--in contrast to an actual encounter with evil. It is why "horror movies" entertain even though they trigger fear and a rush of adrenaline. It underlies the proverbial "moth drawn to the flame" imagery.
I believe that such "interest" comes from the "safe" imaginative encounter with the forbidden, with taboo, with terror, with evil, with death--in contrast to an actual encounter with evil. It is why "horror movies" entertain even though they trigger fear and a rush of adrenaline. It underlies the proverbial "moth drawn to the flame" imagery.
A little evil in imaginative form, death made larger than life with metaphor and symbol and personification, is a psychological and social anodyne. It is a kind of vaccination against the actual fear, suffering, disruption, and chaos caused by evil and death. Imaginative forms, symbols, totems, rituals, stories, song, imagery--in short, art and artifice--shield us. They are a kind of curtain protecting us from existential fear and trembling as we face suffering, the abyss and death.
Personal and social repetition, feedback, and looping of the symbols and metaphors maintain the warp and woof of the curtain. Nietzsche means precisely this when he says, "We have art in order not to perish from truth." With repetition and looping, such forms grow old and tired and lose their effectiveness and meaning in the face of new and incredible terrors, new avenues to fear, pain, and death. Bluntly put, they freeze up and die as in the deepest part of Dante's Hell. In the largest sense, when that happens, as Nietzsche has more famously stated, "God is dead." After that, according to Nietzsche, we must become our own god and develop our own means of protection against fear and trembling before a Godless universe. But is God dead and are we naked, exiled, and dead? Not so with Dante.
What is it, then, that creates and inspires new language, metaphor, vision, taboo, and ritual? Dante's Commedia is instructive. A masculine poet and guide, Virgil, leads Dante through Hell and out and on in to Purgatory. But the feminine Beatrice inspires Dante and brings him out of Purgatory and on into Paradise. Dante encountered Virgil through Virgil's poetry, specifically his epic, The Aeneid. It is chiefly an epic born out of violence and war and telling of anger and violence as Aeneas goes on to establish Rome through violence.
But Dante first encountered Beatrice in Florence face to face when he was almost nine years old (1274) and she was barely eight. She was dressed in soft crimson and wore a girdle about her waist. Dante fell in love with his vision of her which he later believed was divine. He sought her out, hoping to meet her and to speak with her, but she never spoke to him until nine years later. Then one afternoon (1283) he saw her dressed in white, walking down a street in Florence. Accompanied by two older women, Beatrice greeted him. Overwhelmed, he later had a dream that "inspired" the first sonnet in his "La Vita Nuova" ("The New Life"), a marvelous poem of romantic love. In "Purgatorio," XXX, Dante encounters Beatrice in Eden “with a white veil and a wreath of olive” and is directed by her toward the bright ecstasy and beauty of Paradise.
Heroic tales of battles won and lost and exalted visions of beauty and joy, male and female polarities in language, society, and biology, the light and darkness of our universe--things looped and repeated and intertwined--all provide the stuff of both inspiration for life and of protection against boredom, dread, death, and loss of God.
So the questions for me are these: How is life and language possible without both male and female perspectives, actions, and creations? How is humanity fully possible without its uniquely masculine and feminine qualities? Indeed, how is God possible without Adam and Eve?