Dante's Inferno

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A scene from the 1911 Italian silent film L'Inferno, showing Muhammad on the right with his entrails hanging out

Dante's Inferno ("Inferno" being Italian for "Hell") refers to the first part of Dante Alighieri's 14th-century epic poem "Divine Comedy". It is followed by Purgatorio and Paradiso. It is an allegory telling of the journey of Dante through Hell, guided by the Roman poet Virgil. Dante draws on Christian theology and philosophy, especially Thomistic philosophy and the Summa Theologica of Thomas Aquinas.[1] Consequently, the Divine Comedy has been called "the Summa in verse".[2]

Dante Alighieri is also known as "the Supreme Poet" and the "Father of the Italian language". His Divine Comedy is considered the greatest literary work ever composed in the Italian language[3] and a masterpiece of world literature.[4]

Inferno: Canto XXVIII

Dante encounters Prophet Muhammad and his cousin and son-in-law Ali (the fourth Rightly-Guided Caliph of Islam) in the eighth circle of Hell, a circle that punishes the fraudulent – those guilty of deliberate, knowing evil.

Who ever could, e'en with untrammelled words,
Tell of the blood and of the wounds in full

Which now I saw, by many times narrating?

Each tongue would for a certainty fall short
By reason of our speech and memory,

That have small room to comprehend so much.

If were again assembled all the people
Which formerly upon the fateful land

Of Puglia were lamenting for their blood

Shed by the Romans and the lingering war
That of the rings made such illustrious spoils,

As Livy has recorded, who errs not,

With those who felt the agony of blows
By making counterstand to Robert Guiscard,

And all the rest, whose bones are gathered still

At Ceperano, where a renegade
Was each Apulian, and at Tagliacozzo,

Where without arms the old Alardo conquered,

And one his limb transpierced, and one lopped off,
Should show, it would be nothing to compare

With the disgusting mode of the ninth Bolgia.

A cask by losing centre-piece or cant
Was never shattered so, as I saw one

Rent from the chin to where one breaketh wind.

Between his legs were hanging down his entrails;
His heart was visible, and the dismal sack

That maketh excrement of what is eaten.

While I was all absorbed in seeing him,
He looked at me, and opened with his hands

His bosom, saying: "See now how I rend me;

How mutilated, see, is Mahomet;
In front of me doth Ali weeping go,

Cleft in the face from forelock unto chin;

And all the others whom thou here beholdest,
Disseminators of scandal and of schism

While living were, and therefore are cleft thus.

A devil is behind here, who doth cleave us
Thus cruelly, unto the falchion's edge

Putting again each one of all this ream,

When we have gone around the doleful road;
By reason that our wounds are closed again

Ere any one in front of him repass.

But who art thou, that musest on the crag,
Perchance to postpone going to the pain

That is adjudged upon thine accusations?"

"Nor death hath reached him yet, nor guilt doth bring him,"
My Master made reply, "to be tormented;

But to procure him full experience,

Me, who am dead, behoves it to conduct him
Down here through Hell, from circle unto circle;

And this is true as that I speak to thee."

More than a hundred were there when they heard him,
Who in the moat stood still to look at me,

Through wonderment oblivious of their torture.

"Now say to Fra Dolcino, then, to arm him,
Thou, who perhaps wilt shortly see the sun,

If soon he wish not here to follow me,

So with provisions, that no stress of snow
May give the victory to the Novarese,

Which otherwise to gain would not be easy."

After one foot to go away he lifted,
This word did Mahomet say unto me,

Then to depart upon the ground he stretched it.

Another one, who had his throat pierced through,
And nose cut off close underneath the brows,

And had no longer but a single ear,

Staying to look in wonder with the others,
Before the others did his gullet open,

Which outwardly was red in every part,

And said: "O thou, whom guilt doth not condemn,
And whom I once saw up in Latian land,

Unless too great similitude deceive me,

Call to remembrance Pier da Medicina,
If e'er thou see again the lovely plain

That from Vercelli slopes to Marcabo,

And make it known to the best two of Fano,
To Messer Guido and Angiolello likewise,

That if foreseeing here be not in vain,

Cast over from their vessel shall they be,
And drowned near unto the Cattolica,

By the betrayal of a tyrant fell.

Between the isles of Cyprus and Majorca
Neptune ne'er yet beheld so great a crime,

Neither of pirates nor Argolic people.

That traitor, who sees only with one eye,
And holds the land, which some one here with me

Would fain be fasting from the vision of,

Will make them come unto a parley with him;
Then will do so, that to Focara's wind

They will not stand in need of vow or prayer."

And I to him: "Show to me and declare,
If thou wouldst have me bear up news of thee,

Who is this person of the bitter vision."

Then did he lay his hand upon the jaw
Of one of his companions, and his mouth

Oped, crying: "This is he, and he speaks not.

This one, being banished, every doubt submerged
In Caesar by affirming the forearmed

Always with detriment allowed delay."

O how bewildered unto me appeared,
With tongue asunder in his windpipe slit,

Curio, who in speaking was so bold!

And one, who both his hands dissevered had,
The stumps uplifting through the murky air,

So that the blood made horrible his face,

Cried out: "Thou shalt remember Mosca also,
Who said, alas! 'A thing done has an end!'

Which was an ill seed for the Tuscan people."

"And death unto thy race," thereto I added;
Whence he, accumulating woe on woe,

Departed, like a person sad and crazed.

But I remained to look upon the crowd;
And saw a thing which I should be afraid,

Without some further proof, even to recount,

If it were not that conscience reassures me,
That good companion which emboldens man

Beneath the hauberk of its feeling pure.

I truly saw, and still I seem to see it,
A trunk without a head walk in like manner

As walked the others of the mournful herd.

And by the hair it held the head dissevered,
Hung from the hand in fashion of a lantern,

And that upon us gazed and said: "O me!"

It of itself made to itself a lamp,
And they were two in one, and one in two;

How that can be, He knows who so ordains it.

When it was come close to the bridge's foot,
It lifted high its arm with all the head,

To bring more closely unto us its words,

Which were: "Behold now the sore penalty,
Thou, who dost breathing go the dead beholding;

Behold if any be as great as this.

And so that thou may carry news of me,
Know that Bertram de Born am I, the same

Who gave to the Young King the evil comfort.

I made the father and the son rebellious;
Achitophel not more with Absalom

And David did with his accursed goadings.

Because I parted persons so united,
Parted do I now bear my brain, alas!

From its beginning, which is in this trunk.

Thus is observed in me the counterpoise."

Although this is only meant as fiction, the figure of Muhammad is often depicted negatively in books and other religious scriptures.

See Also

  • Library - WikiIslam's online library of books
  • Hell - A hub page that leads to other articles related to Hell

External Links

References

  1. Charles Allen Dinsmore, "The Teachings of Dante", Ayer Publishing, 1970, p. 38, ISBN 0-8369-5521-8.
  2. The Fordham Monthly, Fordham University, Vol. XL, Dec. 1921, p. 76
  3. For example, Encyclopedia Americana, 2006, Vol. 30. p. 605: "the greatest single work of Italian literature;" John Julius Norwich, The Italians: History, Art, and the Genius of a People, Abrams, 1983, p. 27: "his tremendous poem, still after six and a half centuries the supreme work of Italian literature, remains – after the legacy of ancient Rome – the grandest single element in the Italian heritage;" and Robert Reinhold Ergang, The Renaissance, Van Nostrand, 1967, p. 103: "Many literary historians regard the Divine Comedy as the greatest work of Italian literature. In world literature it is ranked as an epic poem of the highest order."
  4. Bloom, Harold (1994). The Western Canon.