Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino (novel #204)

 (translated by William Weaver)

 

…seek and learn to recognize who and what, in the midst of the inferno, are not inferno, then make them endure, give them space. ~ fictional dialogue, Marco Polo to Kublai Khan

 

Invisible Cities is an unusual novel. It is a frame story wherein Marco Polo describes the diverse cities of the Mongol empire in an audience with Kublai Khan. It is part fantasy, as all the cities are imaginary with chimerical qualities.

 

In Perinthia’s streets and square today you encounter cripples, dwarfs, hunchbacks, obese men, bearded women. But the worse cannot be seen; guttural howls are heard from cellars and lofts, where families hide children with three heads or with six legs.

 

It is part poetry as the description of each is sensual and romantic.

 

The city displays one face to the traveler arriving overland and a different one to him who arrives by sea.

 

Cities, like dreams, are made of desires and fears, even if the thread of their discourse is secret, their rules are absurd, their perspectives deceitful, and everything conceals something else.

 

And I believe it is part commentary, perhaps on the invisible thread.

 

…there runs an invisible thread that binds one living being to another for a moment, then unravels, then is stretched again between moving points as it draws new and rapid patterns so that every second the unhappy city contains a happy city unaware of its own existence.

 

The 55 cities each bear a woman’s name and are grouped into one of eleven themes:

Cities & Memory

Cities & Desire

Cities & Signs

Thin Cities

Trading Cities

Cities & Eyes

Cities & Names

Cities & the Dead

Cities & Sky

Continuous Cities

Hidden Cities

 

At various intervals, there is a dialogue between the Khan and the explorer. Kublai senses his realm is in decline and is anxious to learn what he can from another’s senses. He is both curious and incredulous of Marco’s descriptions.

 

“This is what I wanted to hear from you: confess what you are smuggling: moods, states of grace, elegies!”

 

and

 

“There is still one [one city] of which you never speak.”

Marco Polo bowed his head.

“Venice,” the Khan said.

Marco smiled. “What else do you believe I have been talking to you about?”

 

It took a very silly turn when the two took a Turkish bath; the Khan blindfolded himself and then tried to locate Marco, by shouting “Marco,” to which Marco had to reply “Polo.”

 

Like my only other experience with Calvino, it is quite unconventional, but it didn’t captivate me the way If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler did. I suspect that Calvino’s message is philosophical and contemplative: mostly lost on me, though I admire his innovative approach and turn of phrase.

 

-- Just kidding about the Turkish bath, Marco Polo game :p --

 

 

My rating:  3.5 out of 5 stars

 

This novel satisfies "A Classic in Translation" [Italian to English] category in the Back to the Classics 2022 Challenge.

 

 Excerpt:

 

…I already know this would be the same as telling you nothing. The city does not consist of this, but of relationships between the measurements of its space and the events of its past: the height of a lamppost and the distance from the ground of a hanged usurper’s swaying feet; the line strung from the lamppost to the railing opposite and the festoons that decorate the course of the queen’s nuptial procession; the height of that railing and the leap of the adulterer who climbed over it at dawn; the tilt of a guttering and a cat’s progress along it as he slips into the same window; the firing range of a gunboat which has suddenly appeared beyond the cape and the bomb that destroys the guttering; the rips in the fish net and the three old men seated on the dock mending nets and telling each other for the hundredth time the story of the gunboat of the usurper, who some say was the queen’s illegitimate son, abandoned in his swaddling clothes there on the deck.

 

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Paradiso by Dante Alighieri

Paradiso by Dante Alighieri     (translated by Robert and Jean Hollander)

More bountiful was God when He gave Himself,

enabling man to rise again, than if,

in His sole clemency, he had simply pardoned.

Paradiso, is the third and final part of Dante’s epic poem The Divine Comedy, following Inferno and Purgatario. It tells of the final stage of Dante’s journey, in which he is now guided by Beatrice through Paradise.

I expected this to be my favorite of the three; I suppose the reason is obvious, but to be honest, I was underwhelmed at first. Dante himself, I think, felt unequal, as he

…neared the end of all desire

He writes…

          The Beauty that I saw transcends

          all thought of beauty, and I must believe

          that only its maker may savor it all.

And…

          I declare myself defeated at this point

          more than any poet, whether comic or tragic,

          was ever thwarted by a topic in his theme,

And…

          O how scant is speech, too weak to frame my thoughts.

          Compared to what I still recall my words are faint

          to call them “little” is to praise them much.

So, I will allow…it is a subject which cannot be done justice. Notwithstanding, Dante does a superb job, and I was increasingly thrilled as he further unfolds the glories of Paradise.

In my reviews of Inferno and Purgatorio I opined that this work is literature, not Christian doctrine, and therefore I did not pick much at the points where my faith, and my understanding of the scriptures differs from Dante’s.

I’m of the opinion now however, that to call this merely literature is as much a disservice as to call The Creation of Adam by Michelangelo merely a painting, or to call Handel’s Messiah merely music.

This, I think, is something more. Something more than mere literature. I bow to Signore Alighieri for the slight - though, knowing him a bit better now, I believe he would likely beg – “please, praise be to God”

And he makes me forget all my minor complaints, with the following.

Dante, now guided by Beatrice questions why God, would choose to save humanity by Grace, via the atoning work of Christ. Beatrice’s response:

          Your nature, when it sinned in toto

          in its seed, was separated

          from these privileges and from its Eden.

          ‘Nor could they be recovered

          if you consider closely – by any other recourse

          except to ford one of these crossings:

          either that God, in His own clemency,

          had pardoned, or that man, of himself,

          had given satisfaction for his foolish pride.

          Now fix your eyes deep in the abyss

          of the everlasting will of God

          and give your strict attention to my words.

          With his limitations, man could never offer

          satisfaction, for he could not descend as deep

          into humility, by latter-day obedience,

          as, by disobeying, he had thought to rise.

          and this is the reason for which he was denied

          the power of giving satisfaction on his own.

          Thus it was necessary that God in His own ways

          restore man to the fullness of his life

          by the one way, that is, or by both of them.

          But since the deed more gratifies the doer

          the more it shows the goodness

          of the heart from which it springs,

          divine goodness, which puts it imprint

          on the world, was pleased to proceed

          in both its ways to raise you up again.

          Now Between the last night and the first day

          was, or will there be, a deed performed – in the first way

          or the second – so sublime or generous.

          More bountiful was God when He gave Himself,

          enabling man to rise again, than if,

          in His sole clemency, he had simply pardoned.

          All other means fell sort of justice

          save that the Son of God

          should humble Himself by becoming flesh.

My humble commentary on these verses: Man was unique and privileged above all other creation. But man rebelled against God and lost his privileged position, and can be restored by only two means: Man must do something worthy of restoration, or God must restore man by grace and mercy.

Man could do neither, so CHRIST – DID BOTH. Christ the man, lived a life worthy of restoring man, and Christ the Lord, the Son of God, restored humanity by divine will and act, a sacrificial death, providing grace and mercy.

Or as another poet put it, he became...

for sin the double cure

HALLELUJAH!

Finally, have you ever wondered how or why The Divine Comedy, is comedy? A comedy begins with difficulty or dilemma, and ends in satisfaction and justice. The Divine Comedy begins at the gates of Hell, and ends in the Highest Heaven. Obvious now isn’t it?

This satisfies I-4 in the 2020 Classic BINGO Challenge.

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Dante's Purgatorio

Purgatorio by Dante Alighieri                                                                  (translated by Robert and Jean Hollander)

And he to me: “This mountain is so fashioned

that the climb is harder at the outset

and, as one ascends, becomes less toilsome. ~ Virgil to Dante regarding the climb of Mount Purgatory

Purgatorio is the second part of Dante’s epic poem The Divine Comedy; it follows Inferno and is followed by Paradiso. I suspect Purgatorio will be my least favored of the three, as it is caught in Limbo – pardon the pun – between despair and glory. 

By the way, it isn’t really a very good pun. Limbo and Purgatory are not synonymous. According to Dante, Limbo is on the outskirts of Hell, inhabited by virtuous pagans and the unbaptized who are separated from God, but not condemned to the suffering of Hell. Purgatory is for souls who repented late in life, who must purge their souls for the years spent apart from the grace of God. They are considered “saved” as their eventual ascension to Paradise is assured.

Full disclosure: I am a Christian and believe in Heaven and Hell, but I don’t believe in Purgatory. This certainly tempered my reaction to Purgatorio as I was ambivalent to the souls in Purgatory. But, just as with Inferno, I remind myself that Purgatorio is literature, not Christian doctrine. 

Virgil continues to guide Dante’s journey, but he is replaced by the end of Purgatorio by Beatrice as Virgil, doomed to Limbo, will never be admitted to Paradise. Beatrice is probably based on an actual person Dante admired, perhaps even loved, but in the Comedy, she is the representation of Beatific Love.

The souls in Purgatory are guilty of the same sins as those in Hell, but differ in that they repented late in life and claimed God’s grace. 

          Sinners to the final hour,

          we were all at the point of violent death

          when a light from Heaven brought us understanding

          so that, repenting and forgiving,

          we parted from our lives at peace with God,

          who with desire to see Him wrings our hearts.

Their time in Purgatory is equal to their years of unbelief in mortal life, but can be shortened by the prayers of Christians in Heaven and Earth. Most fascinating though, was the concept that all sin is an aberration of love – that is: love perverted (pride, envy, wrath), love defective (sloth), or love excessive (avarice, gluttony, lasciviousness)

In Inferno, the nine levels of Hell descend into an abyss, whereas in Purgatory the levels rise as a mount. At the summit is the Earthly Paradise, not Heaven, but after purgation a place of innocence, very much like the Garden of Eden.

In the last several cantos of Purgatorio we learn how and why Dante was chosen for this journey. Beatrice, who has died and is Paradise, is distressed by Dante’s earthly life. During her life, Dante was apparently inspired to Godliness by Beatrice, but after her death, he quickly forsakes virtue and theology for pleasure and philosophy. Concerned for his immortal soul, Beatrice goes to Limbo and by her tears persuades Virgil, to guide Dante through the eternal realms, and thus affect his repentance.

Dante does indeed confess his sin, and is purged, just as the souls in purgatory. He is unique, in that he is yet mortal and at the conclusion of the Comedy must return to live out the remainder of his mortal, and presumably now, more faithful life.

One excerpt that I found quite poignant. Early in the climb, at a particular gate…

          At that we moved ahead, The first step

          was of clear white marble, so polished

          that my image was reflected in true likeness

          The second was darker than the deepest purple,

          of unhewn stone, looking as if it had been burned,

          cracked through its length and breadth

          The third, resting its heavy mass above,

          seemed to me porphyry, as flaming red

          as blood that spurts out from a vein

The first step, forces Dante to see himself as he is – so critical to confession and repentance. The second step is dark and broken, revealing the sinful and broken state of Dante (mankind). The third step red, the color of spurting blood, like the blood of Christ.

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Dante's Inferno

Inferno by Dante Alighieri                                                                                  (translated by Robert and Jean Hollander)

ABANDON ALL HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER HERE.

Inferno is the first part, of Dante’s epic poem The Divine Comedy, which is followed by Purgatorio and Paradiso. It describes Dante’s journey through Hell, guided by Roman poet Virgil. It isn’t precisely clear why Dante is appointed to this journey – only that he is appointed by divine will, and Virgil is his guide, presumably because Virgil, now only a shade, has made the journey himself, and is much revered by Dante.

Hell is described as nine circles. Less serious crimes are punished less severely in the higher levels and as Virgil and Dante descend they discover more heinous criminals and greater punishment culminating in the ninth level, the lowest pit of Hell, where they encounter infamous traitors Judas, Brutus, and Cassius, who are tormented by the chief of traitors Satan himself.

It’s grim reading.

At the very outset, before entering the netherworld Dante writes…

     In middle of the journey of our days

     I found that I was in a darksome wood

     The right road lost and vanished in the maze.

I particularly like this, as he uses first person singular “I”, after previously using the plural “our”. I believe this signifies both an individual and collective conscious and conscience. 

As they prepare to enter the Gates of Hell, Dante sees the fearsome sign…

     THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE CITY OF WOE,

     THROUGH ME THE WAY TO ETERNAL PAIN,

     THROUGH ME THE WAY AMONG THE LOST.

     JUSTICE MOVED MY MAKER ON HIGH.

     DIVINE POWER MADE ME,

     WISDOM SUPREME, AND PRIMAL LOVE.

     BEFORE ME NOTHING WAS BUT THINGS ETERNAL,

     AND I ENDURE ETERNALLY.

     ABANDON ALL HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER HERE.

Each level of Hell is guarded a different demon. They challenge Dante’s right as a living soul to enter, until they are rebuked by Virgil…

     Hinder not his destined journey.

     It is so willed where will and power are one,

     and ask no more.

And with that, they are suffered to pass.

In the early going, Dante feels pity for the souls he sees, but Virgil reminds him that the souls all enjoyed free will and a season to repent. Or, as one commentator put it…

…the time for mercy is here in this world, while in the world to come it is time only for justice. ~ Guido da Pisa

One of the more striking things about the punishment meted out, whether to the lustful or gluttons, violent or blasphemers, hypocrites or thieves, was that the punishment fit the crime. They were punished by their own vices. 

As Hollander put it…

What they did above, they do below…

Or as the narrative describes…

     And she to me: “There is no greater sorrow

     than to recall our time of joy

     in wretchedness – and this your teacher knows.

Or…

     How many now above who think themselves

     great kings will lie here in the mud, like swine,

     leaving behind nothing but ill repute!

Or…

     Every evil deed despised in Heaven

     has as its end injustice. Each such end

     harms someone else through either force or fraud.

Or…

     Then my leader [Virgil] spoke with a vehemence

     I had not heard him use before: “O, Capaneus,

     because your pride remains unquenched

     you suffer greater punishment.

     In your own anger lies your agony,

     a fitting torment for your rage.”

It was, as I said a grim, but fascinating read. 

I often had to remind myself: Dante’s Inferno is literature, not Christian doctrine. And although there are a great many particulars on which I disagree quite strongly with Dante’s conception, there is a profound theme that I believe is true…

God is not mocked; for whatever a man sows, this he will also reap. Galatians 6:7

A word about this translation. I can only imagine that translating poetry is a tremendous challenge. I am not qualified to comment on the quality of this translation, but I can say I found it quite accessible, and I think the team makes good sense: Dante scholar Robert Hollander and his poet wife Jean Hollander. My unscholarly opinion: they did a marvelous job of maintaining the great power and terrible beauty of the message.

Finally, when I read Shakespeare, I keep watch for those little sayings of the Bard’s that have passed into modern English vernacular, such as Neither here nor there or Mum’s the word. I noted such a saying by Dante in Inferno. Virgil tells Dante he has not seen enough yet to form some opinion. Virgil’s words are (keep in mind the circles of Hell)

…you have not come full circle

Ironically, this saying, is misattributed to Shakespeare as he uses it in King Lear.

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If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler by Italo Calvino (novel #142)

If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler by Italo Calvino

“The novels I prefer,” she says, “are those that make you feel uneasy from the very first page…” ~ Ludmilla

If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler is a very unusual novel. It is a frame story, employing metafiction. It is the story of a reader, two readers actually, trying to read. Philosophically, I’d say it is a story about the love of reading.

It is marvelously clever, though a bit confusing on first read. Each chapter begins with second person narrative explaining something to you, the reader, about the nature of your reading. It is filled with wonderful advice about how to enjoy the reading experience, such as…

…having your feet up is the first condition for enjoying a read.

Or asking before you begin…

Do you have to pee? 

After the second person narrative, begins a metafictional first chapter – about a reluctant traveler, on a clandestine mission, who misses his contact in a foreign train station. It’s quite compelling, leaving you wanting more, but next comes another second person narrative explaining why you cannot continue reading that story. The pattern continues throughout the book: second person narrative, a completely new metafictional first chapter, again interrupted, continued reading impossible, followed by another second person narrative and another new metafictional first chapter.

The second person narrative is the real story.

Though I have to admit, each of the metafictional first chapters are quite captivating.

The frustrated reader meets a fellow frustrated reader, and the two share a wild and ridiculous adventure continuously trying to find the next chapter.

The you reader, is male, and believe it or not the fellow frustrated reader is female, young and beautiful. Go figure. She, Ludmilla, has some insightful ideas on reading:

“The novels I prefer,” she says, “are those that make you feel uneasy from the very first page…”

“The novel I would most like to read at this moment,” Ludmilla explains, “should have as its driving force only the desire to narrate, to pile stories upon stories, without trying to impose a philosophy of life on you, simply allowing you to observe its own growth, like a tree, an entangling, as if of branches and leaves…”

There’s a boundary line: on one side are those who make books, on the other those who read them. I want to remain one of those who read them, so I take care always to remain on my side of the line.

The pattern continues, and comes to a very pleasing if not quite complete closure. It’s brilliant. If you read this blog with any regularity, you probably love reading, so if you have not – you ought to read If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler. This was a reread for me. I’ll definitely read more of Calvino.

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This book satisfies square G-2 in the 2020 Classic BINGO challenge

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