Blog Post #3 – The Panorama of Dante’s Inferno: Is It Art or Just Intellect?
Roland Barthes essay “The Eiffel Tower” is most definitely an interesting one as it deconstructs the various ways in which the tower provides meaning to its visitors. Moreover, it provides the reader with something of a concrete manipulative (like those at children’ science centers) to work with while trying to understand Barthes’ take on the signifier and the signified. However, once again, I find myself wondering how our mentor’s (in this case Barthes) theories can be applied to literature. The following is my tentative attempt to translate these ideas to something from my own lexicon – Dante’s Inferno.
First, let me say that my choice of The Inferno seemed obvious because it is one of those pieces in literature that most every educated person has heard of and identified with (even if they haven’t read it themselves), much like how everyone has some sort of Eiffel Tower experience (even if they have never seen it themselves).
1) What is The Inferno’s purpose? Is it a useless monument as many Parisians have claimed of the tower or is it an engineering marvel as Gustave Eiffel purported his creation to be? Well, the fact is that Christians did not actually have a concrete vision of what hell was like until Dante gave it to us. Rather than “aerodynamic measurements” and “studies of the resistance of substances,” Dante provides us with contrasting images of the various forms of sin. In addition, the tower’s scientific revelations on the “physiology of the climber” and “meteorological observations” mirror Dante’s (the traveler in the text not the writer) experiences and observations of the various sinners and the environments in which they dwell.
2) What is the natural beauty that is revealed by The Inferno? Hmmmmm… “Abanon all hope ye who enter here!” Just kidding. The beauty that The Inferno shows it readers is not so much the “new nature… of human space” as it is the intricate and frighteningly obvious nature of human vice. You cannot avoid having your breath taken away by the shear awesomeness of the vista provided to us by Dante (the writer, not the traveler).
3) How does The Inferno require decipherment? According to Barthes, a panorama is “an image we attempt to decipher, in which we try to recognize known sites, to identify landmarks.” Thus, the viewer creates a structure by grouping parts of the panorama in his/her own mind. This sounds a lot like associative discourse to me, but I’m not completely sure.
In The Inferno, Dante (the poet) organizes each of the circles of hell associatively. The lustful sinners, the hoarders and squanderers, the violent sinners, etc. are all grouped in specific levels according to their sins. Thus, much of the deciphering is done for us. However, during his travels, Dante (the pilgrim) recognizes several characters in certain levels of hell, particularly in the Malebolge, the 8th circle housing the sinners of fraud.
As Dante explores each pouch on this level, he begins to decipher the difference between the residents of each pouch based on what he knows about the people within them. He realizes that the 3rd pouch must house Simoniacs because he sees Pope Nicholas III there; someone with whom Dante associates using the church to gain money and power. Later, when he sees the jovial friars in the 6th pouch, he realizes that this must be where the hypocrites are kept. The entire section goes on like this with Dante (the pilgrim) mentally categorizing each pouch of the Malebolge based on his historical and political knowledge.
4) How does The Inferno provoke “spontaneous anamnesis”?
I looked it up. Anamnesis simply means “recollection” or “remembrance”. Normally, I don’t complain about someone’s advanced vocabulary, but “anamnesis”…seriously?! Anyway, Barthes point is that looking at Paris from the vantage of the Eiffel Tower naturally forces visitors to recollect the various stages of history experienced by the land being viewed from the pre-historic days of flood to the architecture of the middle ages, to the more recent history of the last several hundred years, to the present history in the making. It seems to me, though, that The Inferno does much the same as it is provoked by humanity’s innate sense of good and evil, constructed on the foundation of the Bible and inextricably linked with the history of Christianity. Moreover, Dante wrote his text with a very specific political agenda very much driven by his experiences with the historical events of the time in Italy.
5) How does The Inferno provide both a technical order and a familiar “little world” to the reader?
Technical Order:
- While the Eiffel Tower shows order in the way the four bases impact its form, Dante’s Inferno is shaped like a funnel in which each circle is smaller than the previous and, therefore, houses less sinners, until you get to the worst of the worst – Satan in the final circle.
- “Then come the elevators, quite surprising by their obliquity, for the ordinary imagination requires that what rises mechanically slide along a vertical axis.” Here is where my comparison seems a bit strained to me, but I do think that an analogy can be made between the tower’s elevators and the various monsters that Dante (the pilgrim) must hitch a ride with to get from one level to another. They are surprising in that they seem like an inappropriate mode of transportation for the task and yet they do get the job done.
- Much like those taking the stairs at the tower, Dante is witness to the specific intricacies of the structure of hell from one level to the next. The tower’s observer is witness to “a whole series of paradoxes, the delectable contraction of an appearance and of its contrary realtity.” Though Dante (the pilgrim) does not see paradoxes in hell, he does by “[insinuating] himself into it” realize the dual nature of God’s punishments to the sinners as each penalty serves as a contrapasso to the committed offense.
Little World:
From Barthes’ perspective the Eiffel Tower has also become a comfortable “little world” in which tourists buy postcards highlighting the beauty of Paris from the souvenir stands and foodies can enjoy artful and elaborate cuisine at the restaurant. Similarly, The Inferno has become a “comfortable object” for both the religiously inclined and lovers of literature. For the religious, The Inferno provides a simple and clear warning, through vivid imagery, for why one shouldn’t sin. For the readers of the world, Dante provides a rich text to be explored and enjoyed for its nuances and artistic fluidity.
Conclusion/Question: So here is my problem with Barthes. Why the hell (pun intended) is that a monument that creates a panoramic view for its visitors cannot be consumed as a work of art? I just don’t get that. It seems like several of the critics that we have worked with this semester have in some way or other said that art exists: in spite of its creator, outside of its creator’s intent, within the reader’s reconstruction, etc. So why is it that a beautiful work loses its art cred simply because the mind of the viewer must engage in decipherment and spontaneous anamnesis? Isn’t art supposed to provoke thought? I’m very confused.


