- historicizing Limbo: Limbo as conceived by medieval theologians versus Limbo as conceived by Dante (⇒ Limbo as conceived by the contemporary Catholic church, which has moved to discard it)
- Limbo for Dante is a space that he uses to honor virtuous pagans: the multicultural lists that record and preserve the “honor of their names”, like the catalogue of ships in Book 2 of the Iliad (an epic trope familiar to Dante through Vergil’s Aeneid)
- virtuous pagans who lived before Christianity: these include great poets (e.g. Homer, Vergil, Horace, Ovid, Lucan) and philosophers (e.g. Aristotle, Socrates, Plato) and other figures of classical antiquity
- some contemporary virtuous pagans: a Muslim general, Saladin (Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn), and two Muslim philosophers, Avicenna (Ibn-Sīnā) and Averroes (Ibn Rushd)
- the question of the injustice of condemning those who could not know Christ through no fault of their own, linked to the issue of the transmission of texts and ideas; these themes are sutured into the Commedia by the presence of saved pagans, starting with Cato of Utica in Purgatorio 1 and culminating with Ripheus the Trojan in Paradiso 20
This canto is devoted to the first circle of Hell, which contains the space that theologians call “Limbo”. Literally the word Limbo means “edge” or “hem”, as in the hem of an article of clothing. Limbo was imagined by theologians to be a privileged zone of Hell where the only punishment is being deprived of God and of heaven. It is a place of no physical torment. This space was devised to house souls who did not sin, but whose historical circumstances prevent them from being saved.
Traditionally, theologians placed two groups of souls in Limbo:
- the Biblical righteous, Hebrew patriarchs and matriarchs. These souls died long before the life of Christ. They resided in Limbo after their deaths until Christ rescued them by descending into Hell, which happened after the Crucifixion and before the Resurrection (Latin: Descensus Christi ad Inferos; English: Harrowing of Hell);
- unbaptized infants. Infants who died before receiving the sacrament of baptism, which washes away original sin.
Given that the Biblical righteous were liberated from Limbo by Christ, in 34 CE (this is the date that Dante supplies in Inferno 21), by the time of Dante’s journey in 1300 CE they were long removed from Hell and lodged in Paradise. In a theologically-attuned treatment of Limbo, therefore, in 1300 we can expect to find only unbaptized babes—no adults whatsoever.
As we shall see, Dante’s conception of Limbo diverges fundamentally from a theologically-attuned conception of Limbo.
In Dante’s language, the pain of Limbo is a “duol sanza martìri” (suffering without torments [Inf. 4.28]). Going further, he clarifies that the souls in Limbo know that they are deprived and desire that which they will never have, so that eternally thwarted desire is the true source of their suffering: “e sol di tanto offesi, / che sanza speme vivemo in disio” (we are punished just with this: we have no hope and yet we live in longing [Inf. 4.41-42]).
While the poet’s characterization of Limbo as a place without physical torment is theologically accurate, his choice of the inhabitants of his Limbo is far from orthodox, indeed it is exceptionally personal and idiosyncratic. Dante places in his Limbo the souls of great pagans who lived lives of extreme virtue and accomplishment.
Dante’s idiosyncratic handling of Limbo, his deviation from theological correctness, thus becomes an index by which we can measure his passionate reverence for humanistic achievement.
In Virgilio’s explanation, these are the souls of those who committed no sin but who were not baptized. Virgilio is very clear that the souls in Limbo did not sin: “ch’ei non peccaro; e s’elli hanno mercedi, / non basta, perché non ebber battesmo” (they did not sin; and yet, though they have merits, / that’s not enough, because they lacked baptism [Inf. 4.34-5]). According to this account, the failure of these souls to worship Christ is due simply and only to their having lived prior to Christ’s birth: “dinanzi al cristianesmo” (before Christianity [Inf. 4.37]).
Virgilio, who tells Dante that he himself belongs to this group (“e di questi cotai son io medesmo” and of such spirits I myself am one [Inf. 4.39]), restates categorically that the only “defects” of the souls of Limbo are the ones named above: “Per tai difetti, non per altro rio, / semo perduti” (For these defects, and for no other evil, / we now are lost [Inf. 4.40-1]). Their “defects” are thus that they were not baptized and failed to worship Christ. This failure occurred through no fault of their own, but because of the timing of their birth.
However, Virgilio’s clear, straightforward, and consoling explanation for his damnation will become less clear and consoling when we arrive in Purgatory and discover, in Purgatorio 1, that the realm of Christian purgation is governed by a saved pagan: Cato of Utica, the Roman statesman whom Dante had venerated as early as the Convivio.
In Purgatorio 1 we learn for the first time that Dante believes that virtuous pagans can be saved. Although we learn this uncomfortable fact for the first time in Purgatorio 1, it will not be the last time, for there will be yet more saved pagans in Dante’s poem after Cato—indeed the last one will be introduced only in the heaven of justice, in Paradiso 20.
If virtuous pagans can be saved, then belief in Christ is possible even for those born before Him, and Virgilio’s explanation of his own damnation rings somewhat hollow. At the very least, the clear and straightforward explanation that Virgilio offers in Inferno 4 is problematized by the unfolding of the Commedia and by the subsequent realization that pagans can be saved.
The Roman poet is able to offer the testimony of his own personal experience, for he personally witnessed Christ’s Harrowing of Hell. He saw the arrival of the Beneficent Force that was able to liberate his fellow inmates: “Io era nuovo in questo stato, / quando ci vidi venire un possente” (I was new-entered on this state / when I beheld a Great Lord enter here [Inf. 4.52-3]). Dante here cleverly connects the dates of Vergil’s and Christ’s deaths: Vergil died in 19 BCE and Christ died and harrowed Hell in 34 CE. There was thus an interval of 53 years between Virgilio’s arrival in Limbo and Christ’s arrival in Limbo: 53 years are indeed but the blink of an eye from the perspective of eternity, thus accounting for Virgilio’s self-description as “nuovo in questo stato” (Inf. 4.52) at the time of the Harrowing of Hell.
By imagining Virgilio in Limbo, Dante has given himself the opportunity to imagine Virgilio as a eye-witness of Christ. This passage therefore offers as well some perspective on Virgilio’s melancholy and the pallor of his visage upon returning to Limbo. Virgilio witnessed the arrival of the Beneficent Force, but he himself was not saved by that power. He knows that it is possible to be saved, that salvation can happen, but it did not happen for him.
Christ’s Harrowing of Hell is the crucial punctuation in the eternity of Limbo: it is the event that fundamentally altered Limbo’s make-up, because Christ took away with Him all the Biblical worthies, the Hebrew patriarchs and matriarchs. In other words, according to the theological account, Christ removed all the adults housed in Limbo prior to His arrival. After Christ’s Harrowing of Hell, again according to the theological account, only unbaptized infants would be found in Limbo.
These are the infants whom Dante mentions only in one word in verse 30: “d’infanti e di femmine e di viri” (of infants and of women and of men). By having Virgilio refer explicitly to the Harrowing of Hell, and to the departure with Christ of the Biblical worthies, Dante makes his divergent account of the make-up of Limbo all the more notable: in Dante’s account there are still adults present in Limbo after Christ’s arrival and departure.
To posit, as Dante does, that adults reside in Limbo after the Harrowing of Hell and moreover that these adults are pagans—men and women who did not believe in Christianity—is anomalous within the history of the idea of Limbo.
Dante goes even further: within his already anomalous treatment of Limbo, he invents a special space for the great pagans of antiquity and selected Muslim moderns. Having already stipulated the darkness of the abyss (“Oscura e profonda era e nebulosa” [dark and deep and filled with mist Inf. 4.10]), Dante designates for the first circle of Hell a light that conquers the darkness: “io vidi un foco / ch’emisperio di tenebre vincia” (I beheld a fire / that carved out a hemisphere from the shadows [Inf. 4.68-9]). Moving towards this light, he finds a “noble castle” (Inf. 4.106), within which is a beautiful meadow where the honorable souls are assembled: a “loco aperto, luminoso e alto, / sì che veder si potien tutti quanti” (an open place both high and filled with light, / so we could see all those who were assembled [Inf. 4.116-17]).
This special status gives rise to the pilgrim’s query: ‘‘questi chi son c’hanno cotanta onranza, / che dal modo de li altri li diparte’’ (who are these souls whose dignity has kept / their way of being, separate from the rest? [Inf. 4.74-5]). The remarkable answer is that the honor these souls accrued while alive was such as to win them grace from heaven:
E quelli a me: “L’onrata nominanza, che di lor suona sù ne la tua vita, grazia acquista in ciel che sì li avanza”. (Inf. 4.76-8)
And he to me: “The honor of their name which echoes up above within your life, gains Heaven’s grace, and that advances them”.
We note the word “nominanza”, derived from “nome” (name): while the names of the cowardly souls in the previous canto are erased from memory, the names of the virtuous pagans live on, winning them glory on earth and even, says Dante—displaying his humanistic values—a special status in Hell.
Their names live on, because texts record them. Therefore, if the lists of names in Inferno 4 seem somewhat tedious to read, we can “enliven” them by considering that these names are the talismans of well-lived lives and of lives well recorded in books: each name summons much cultural history and cultural memory, for which the name stands as a synecdoche.
We can remember too that the “catalogue of ships” is an epic trope from the Iliad (a trope that Dante would have known from the Aeneid’s catalogues, modeled on Homer’s), and that for Homer, as for Dante, the lists of names testify to the responsibility of the epic poet to preserve a society and a culture, in names that thwart time and defy oblivion. Dante himself, who will be embraced by the great poets of antiquity as one of their group, “the sixth among such intellects”—“sesto tra cotanto senno” (Inf. 4.102)—will carry out this epic mission through the names recorded in the Commedia, most explicitly in “the Florentine phonebook” of Paradiso 16.
The word “nominanza” is an important one in the Commedia, as we see in Purgatorio 11. It harkens back always to its first use here in Inferno 4, and thus to the fame and worth of the virtuous pagans of antiquity.
Moreover, the lists of names in Inferno 4 are fascinating in their multiculturalism. There are the Hebrew names of the Biblical worthies rescued by Christ, the Roman names, the Greek names, and the Muslim names.
By reconfiguring Limbo as a space for his cultural heroes of all stripes, Dante shows his passionate commitment to humanism, to the great achievements of human intellect and reason. And he shows his commitment to justice: he is troubled by the idea that people of such virtue and intellect are denied salvation because of the circumstances of their birth.
The issue of the virtuous pagan, introduced with the arrival of Virgilio in Inferno 1, in Inferno 4 receives its contours as a massive theme in the Commedia: the theme of the cultural other.
Not only does Dante reverence what the men and women of Inferno 4 accomplished while alive, he believes them to be perfectly good, sinful only in their culturally-induced failure to believe. Dante’s extreme sensitivity to the cultural barriers to belief in Christ is articulated in the heaven of justice, where the pilgrim asks how it can be just to exclude from heaven a perfectly just man who happens to be born on the banks of the river Indus:
ché tu dicevi: “Un uom nasce a la riva de l’Indo, e quivi non è chi ragioni di Cristo né chi legga né chi scriva; e tutti suoi voleri e atti buoni sono, quanto ragione umana vede, sanza peccato in vita o in sermoni. Muore non battezzato e sanza fede: ov’è questa giustizia che ’l condanna? ov’è la colpa sua, se ei non crede?” (Par. 19.70-78)
For you would say: “A man is born along the shoreline of the Indus River; none is there to speak or teach or write of Christ. And he, as far as human reason sees, in all he seeks and all he does is good: there is no sin within his life or speech. And that man dies unbaptized, without faith. Where is this justice then that would condemn him? Where is his sin if he does not believe?”
The souls whom Dante places in Limbo pose a challenge to justice similar to that of the “man born on the banks of the Indus” of Paradiso 19: how can it be just, the poet wonders in Paradiso 19, to condemn a person who lived with perfect virtue, but was denied the knowledge of Christianity?
Dante treats the issue of the cultural other as a temporal issue, with respect to virtuous people born before Christianity, and he also treats it as a geographical issue, with respect to virtuous people born in Christian times but in non-Christian lands. The presence of Saladin (Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn), Avicenna (Ibn-Sīnā), and Averroes (Ibn Rushd) among the “great souls” (“li spiriti magni” [Inf. 4.118]) of Limbo leads directly to Paradiso 19 and to the accusation of injustice for excluding the “man born on the banks of the Indus” (Par. 19.70-1). See the Introduction to Paradiso 19 (“Injustice on the Banks of the Indus”) for more on this topic.
Also important is Dante’s attention to the issue of cultural and textual transmission: in Paradiso 19 he carefully creates the context of a perfectly virtuous man who lives in a place where there is “no one to speak or teach or write of Christ” (Par. 19.71-2). The man on the banks of the Indus requires knowledge of Christ, orally or textually transmitted, in order to be saved, but such knowledge is not available, adding to the injustice of his damnation. Similarly, in Purgatorio 22 Stazio explains that he was saved because of the knowledge of Christ he received from the texts of the Gospels and (with terrible irony) from Vergilian texts.
In Inferno 4 Aristotle is the “maestro di color che sanno” (master of those who know [Inf. 4.131]), but Dante makes it clear that he is able to benefit from Aristotle’s wisdom only because of the towering achievement of his Arabic commentator, Averroes: “Averoìs, che ’l gran comento feo” (Averroes, who made the great Commentary [Inf. 4.144]). In Dante’s time Aristotle was available because the original Greek had been translated first into Arabic and then from Arabic into Latin.
In other words, the presence of Averroes in Inferno 4 is another way of stipulating that textual transmission is essential for knowledge. This truth gains in relevance and significance because of the further truth that—as Inferno 4, Purgatorio 22 and Paradiso 19 all testify—knowledge is necessary for salvation.
Dante could have ignored the issue of the virtuous pagan, not one of great interest to most theologians, but instead he confronts it dramatically in his re-imagining of Limbo and then keeps the issue front and center through the figure of his guide. Virgilio is constantly by Dante’s side from Inferno 1 to Purgatorio 30, and as long as Virgilio is present, so is the problem of his damnation. The more Dante comes to love Virgilio, not just as an iconic poet and sage on whom he models himself (as he says in Inferno 1), but as a father on whom he relies for support and guidance, the more Virgilio’s damnation is a source of pain and internal conflict.
The implicit questions that Dante is asking are: How can it be just for Virgilio and the other virtuous pagans to be damned when they are so good? And how can God be other than just? Rather than put these conflicts aside when he enters paradise, these questions are posed most frontally in the heaven of justice.
Dante in Inferno 4 certainly conjures the most imaginative and humanistic vision of Limbo ever known in the history of this Catholic idea. He imagines Limbo as a place that tries to bring some measure of justice to the great pagans denied baptism and denied knowledge of Christianity.
Because we have recently seen attitudes toward Limbo shift, we have been granted insight into Limbo’s historical function within the Catholic imaginary. The traditional idea of Limbo as a place to mitigate the pain of innocent babies born before baptism has become increasingly less acceptable in today’s world. We live in a world in which baptism occurs later in an infant’s life than it did traditionally. For instance, my father was born in Vicenza in 1910, and his baptismal clothes are suitable for an infant whose age is measured in weeks, not in months, as per the mothers seeking information on this site: http://community.babycenter.com/post/a36659761/timing_for_baptism_in_catholic_church. We also live in a world that has a different attitude toward abortion, despite the resistance of the Church. These changes in the attitudes of believers have placed greater pressure on the Church to explain how innocent infants can be sent to Limbo for eternity.
As a result the Catholic Church has recently moved to discard the idea of Limbo altogether. In the document “The Hope of Salvation for Infants Who Die Without Being Baptized”, the International Theological Commission published its finding, in January 2007, that “without minimizing the importance of Baptism in any way, there is nonetheless hope of salvation for infants who die without benefit of that sacrament”. For the full document, see: https://www.catholicculture.org/culture/library/view.cfm?id=7529. For the change in the Church, see: http://www.reuters.com/article/2007/04/20/us-pope-limbo-idUSL2028721620070420#dEC4vvqboJLiJV4P.97.
In the context of the finding that “there is nonetheless hope of salvation for infants who die without benefit of that sacrament” Dante’s Limbo may not seem so radical. But in fact Dante’s Limbo remains as radical as it ever was, for Dante had little interest in the sympathy-inducing infants that have traditionally captured the attention of those concerned about the justice of Limbo. Dante’s attention is captured not by the unbaptized infants of Christian parents but by a completely different group.
Dante’s wholly original project is to imagine a Limbo that mitigates the suffering not of the unbaptized infants of Christian parents but of pagan adults. This passionate interest in those who belong to cultural dispensations different from his own is what makes Dante’s conception of Limbo stand out in his own time and still today.