Wherefore Art Thou, Dante

Let's make this clear before you read this: I do not like Dante. For some reason he irritates me more than anything, and I feel as though I have to pull my hair as I read Purgatory; because (in my opinion) he does not understand Christ and what He did for us. But it's chill. This is Dante we're talking about. 

Okay, so imagine walking through a forest on the evening of Good Friday because you lost your way. That's where we find our lovely protagonist, Dante Alighieri, at the beginning of Inferno, the first of three books considered as The Divine Comedy. Our buddy is in this wilderness because he "wandered from the straight and true" (Dante 3.3) - he's wandered from the path of Christ.

With nothing but his thoughts to keep him occupied, Dante walks through the forest. Then, he sees it: a hill that "leads all men aright on every road" (Dante 3.18). Dante decides that he's going to leave the forest and climb up that hill.

... Or so he thought.

Dante's brief moment of determination and happiness is crushed by the appearance of a "leopard light of foot and quick to lunge" (Dante 5.32). Dante literally has to step back and turn around because the leopard would not leave (and our protagonist knows he can't fight the feline either). So he walks back the way he came, and he's pretty content with staring at the beauty that is the sun until he runs into another animal that wants to block his path. This time he's face to face with a lion, "his head held high, his hunger hot with wrath" (Dante 5.47). And before our friend has a chance to even blink a she-wolf appears, and not only is this she-wolf scrawny as can be she weighs down Dante's spirit as well (Dante 5.49-52).

If this were anyone but Dante in this situation they would be doomed and/or dead; but Dante's really special and cannot die yet. He actually ends up meeting his favorite poet and heads off on a journey to travel through Hell because Beatrice (by God) wants to bring him back on the path of Christ. This journey through Hell lasts for thirty-three cantos, and Dante gets to travel through Purgatory and Paradise (but these are discussions for a later time). But he gets to watch the people he hates suffer for all eternity - all the while while traveling with his new best friend Virgil.

But as he travels through Hell, it makes me start to think: what Circle of Hell would Dante himself end up in? He's not exactly the nicest person, considering he created an entire trilogy to throw all the people he hates into endless damnation. Dante is also sassy throughout all of Inferno, and he has a bit of a mean streak. While he does believe in Christ and has repented - which automatically puts him somewhere in Purgatory - he's going to suffer punishment just this once because I really want him to.

Right off the bat we can eliminate the Sixth Circle of Hell (Heresy); our protagonist doesn't really stray from the religion nor does he believe in anything that can be considered heretic. So he does not have to suffer staying in an open grave until Judgement Day (Dante 98.10). The next we can cross off the list is the First Circle of Hell (Limbo). While he's considered to be a great poet, he did not live a virtuous life. He idealized Beatrice Portinari and not higher wisdom, and he spent a portion of his life dealing with politics - nothing good ever comes from politics.

The next circle to go is the Third Circle: Gluttony. Throughout Inferno and Purgatory, Dante never really expresses gluttonous desires. He hardly talks about his desires, and it would be unfair to torment him with storms of cold rain (Dante 55.7-12). Our buddy also escapes the Fourth Circle of Hell (Avarice). Dante isn't exactly the greediest fellow I've read about. He doesn't have much when he enters Hell and he probably has less when he actually manages to escape. He's also a poet, and I don't recall him having a bunch of money.

If you didn't know this about our new best friend, Dante was exiled from his native city of Florence. He was playing the politics game and he was ultimately given a bad hand. But he wasn't treacherous which why we are going to eliminate the Ninth Circle of Hell (Treachery) from his final resting place. He will not spend an eternity with the crybaby Satan (Dante 355.53). We are not going to condemn our Italian to the Second Circle (Lust) either. While he is semi-obsessed with Beatrice, he isn't exactly lustful; she's dead anyways so it would be pointless if he was lustful.

We're getting closer to the end now. The Eighth Circle of Hell (Fraud) is the next Circle to be crossed off the list. As much as I see Dante as a hypocrite myself, he's not a flatterer nor is he a pimp. He's not a seducer, and he doesn't practice simony. In his real life, Dante was accused of political corruption. While he swore up and down that he didn't do it, I find the evidence to be pretty convincing. But, alas, Dante escapes the Circle and we must continue to find the most proper punishment.

Our remaining two Circles of Hell are the Fifth (Wrath) and the Seventh (Violence). Now, Dante's more than likely a skinny, little man. He exercised his brain and not his body. So it's probable to believe that he would lose a fist fight. But the biggest reason he is a prime candidate for the Seventh Circle of Hell is that he literally wrote a book to throw everyone he hates into Hell. He writes horrific scenes and creates terrible punishments. His may not be violent with his fists but he is violent with his mind. And that's not chill. This reasoning is also why the Fifth Circle of Hell is a prominent candidate. He harbors so much anger against the ones who wronged him in life that he writes Inferno. Again, it's not chill Dante.

So, in the end, the most suitable level of Hell for our buddy Dante is ultimately the Seventh Circle of Hell. Dante gets to be immersed in a river of boiling blood (Dante 119.47-48). And, if he tries to lessen his punishment by rising out of the water, he's going to get shot with an arrow by a centaur (Dante 121.73-75). 

This shall be his punishment for all eternity, and, to me, it's quite fitting. You will reap what you sow Dante Alighieri.

 

Consolation of Unity

When I was younger, the thought of racism had never really crossed my mind. I had been friends with everyone - no matter their race, culture, or beliefs. I was a child and my love knew no bounds. But as I grew older, I had begun to notice the different cliques that would form; one skin color would generally stick to hanging out with that specific color, and while I didn't know why this was happening, I had learned to accept it.

The first time I had truly recognized racism as a real problem was in the seventh grade. As I was riding the bus home, I had noticed a few of my peers of Caucasian descent bullying another boy who was in my science class. They were making fun of the fact that he was an African-American and happened to be darker than them. I could only watch as they ruthlessly tore into the boy until he was finally able to get off the bus and escape the torment. I hadn't told anybody what I had witnessed.

Then, in the ninth grade, I had experienced my first taste of racism toward people of Caucasian descent. I was rushing to my biology class when I had accidentally ran into a black girl as I turned around the corner. She had been extremely angry and called me a "privileged white cracker" who needed to understand where I stood with her; according to her, I was the dirt beneath her feet along with a slew of vulgar words.

As the years passed, I had witnessed more cases of racism, experienced more racism, and more importantly, learned of racism throughout history. It was sometimes heart-wrenching to hear of how there were mass genocides of people who had been deemed "unworthy" in the eyes of others. I could not fathom why people would hate other people simply because of the color of one's skin. But it happened, and it seemed like there was nothing I could do to stop it.

And now, as I scrolled through Instagram on my phone, it seemed that racism would never end. There was a picture of Sandra Bland promoting the mass murder of white people on my feed, and I could only let out a loud sigh over the sheer stupidity that this woman possessed. How would promoting racism against one race possibly end racism against the other? It was contradictory, and I couldn't believe that so many people actually agreed with her. It was unsettling nevertheless, and after spending countless hours attempting to show the world that racism would never solve anything, I had achieved nothing. I had been awarded nothing but the mocking of my fellow peers, the hatred from the opposition, and the knowledge I would never succeed in my endeavors. I had pretty much given up with trying to help end racism.

As I let out another sigh, scrolling past the photo and onto something more vibrant, I felt as though someone was standing in my room. I quickly looked up and took note of the random woman standing at the foot of my bed; instead of being afraid and concerned that a total stranger was in my room, I was almost in awe of her. She was extremely beautiful with light brown skin and a flawless complexion. Her blue eyes were round, and it seemed as though her gaze could pierce into the very depths of my soul. She had a mane of wild, brown hair that framed her face and cascaded over her shoulders. She wore a gown of many colors - the most predominant colors being black, brown, and white - and I noticed that throughout her gown were different pictures that depicted the multitude of cultures in the world. Not a single race, not a single culture was absent from her dress. In her left hand was the only item she carried: a small globe.

The woman looked down at the phone in my hand and her expression changed to one of complete anger and disgust. When she spoke, her voice was full of authority: "Why do you waste your precious time on something so trivial, something that only distracts you from the outside world? Put away that device so that you and I may converse freely without the possibility of distraction."

I did exactly as she instructed me, and I tucked my phone away under my pillow. I watched as she sat down on the edge of my bed and I gave the mysterious woman my full attention, curious as to who she was and what she would say. But she must have noticed some confusion etched onto my face because she chuckled soft and said, "You must not realize who I am. I am the antithesis of racism, the end of the beginning. I am pure where racism is corrupt."

And in that instant I knew she was the lady Unity. "But why are you here?" I questioned her.

"I am here because I see your struggle, my child," she told me. "I see that you are wrestling with an inner torment, and I have come here to help your relieve yourself of this dilemma. Because it is in my name that you face this evil and it will be in my name that you are cured of this depression."

"It's not that I would call myself depressed," I said with a hint of misery in my voice. "I'm not sure that's an accurate word to describe my situation."

The lady Unity nodded in understanding. "You are correct," she spoke. "It is not depression that ails you; it is helplessness. You feel as though you cannot contribute to the cause of my ideals. There have been many others throughout time that have felt what you are feeling right now, and they have risen to do great things. Frederick Douglass suffered through the horror of slavery and the scorn of enemies for many years. Now his books are being read in schools and the history of slavery is being presented. Jean-Jacques Dessalines faced persecution within Haiti even after becoming its emperor, and while he wad despised for his brutality during his reign, he is regarded as one of Haiti's founding fathers. Martin Luther King, Jr. is remembered as one of the most prominent Civil Rights activists, but even he was assassinated for what he believed to be true."

She paused, eyeing me up and down before saying, "While you may not be protected in the flesh for your actions of my behalf, while you may face the scorn of many, it is ultimately what you leave behind that will have you written down in the history books. You must pave the way for others. Do you comprehend what it is I am trying to tell you?"

"I think I understand what you are saying," I replied with a shrug. "What I don't understand is what I can do. How can I aide the troops who fight racism for your sake if no one will pay me any attention? I am considered to be privileged in today's society. Because I am white, I am automatically racist. Because I am white I am perceived to be something that I am not. Because I am white I can do nothing according to some to end racism, and I can do everything according to others. And yet, right now, I feel like I can't do anything but sit here and watch as this world continues to dive into the depths of racism."

"It was eerily silent for a moment. I watched as Unity processed my words and formulated her own response. "Racism is not going to end because of one individual," she explained to me. "One person alone cannot expunge an issue that plagues the whole earth. No, racism will only cease to exist once the world unites as one to overcome it."

I was confused. How exactly were the races supposed to unite? "I've heard people say that they don't see the different races; they only see the person. Is this what you mean?"

She shook her head slightly in disagreement. "No, that is not the solution. If you claim that you see no distinctions between the races, you won't remember the beauty of the different cultures this world holds. You will ultimately see one race, one culture, one people, and in the end, you will have thrown away the histories of all nations. You will not achieve unity this way. You will achieve more opposition, more hate.

"But if we continue to see the different histories of the races," I protested, "we won't be able to forget the past. People will still be angry about the things that happened years ago! If we cannot forget the past, we cannot stop the animosity between white people and black people, between Hispanics and Asians, between one culture and another." I sat back and shifted into a more comfortable position.

"There is a problem with forgetting: you will not learn," she voiced. "You must remember the different conflicts that each race has faced throughout history. Because if you don't, you are doomed to repeat these actions in the future. Segregation and slavery will be reinforced and no one will be happy."

"It feels as though we are segregating ourselves, if I'm honest. More than ninety percent of the time you will see white people hanging out with only white people or vice versa for the other races. It's rare to see a white person and a black person hanging out nowadays. It's rare to see any races hanging out nowadays!" I explained to her.

"The only way this will end is if the entire world joins together in unity."

"What exactly is it we need to do to achieve this unity then?" I asked her directly, wanting to hear the answer.

"The answer is simple but painfully hard to do," she said. "Every race, culture, color of people must meet in the middle of this feud. Each party must extend the olive branch of forgiveness forward to usher in a new era. Just as you would not want to be punished for sins committed in the past, neither does each race. They cannot do so to the other. There must be agreement from every end of the spectrum to cease racism."

I processed the information. It made sense and it seemed like it was the only solution that would actually have positive results. "But it's impossible," I told Unity after a moment. "There is so much animosity and hatred that some people have made a living based off of it. It fuels some individuals. It's not plausible to believe that everyone will join together."

"It isn't impossible," she began, "but it isn't something that will just magically happen anytime soon. This will take time, effort, dedication, even bloodshed for this to become a reality." She paused before adding, "But it's not impossible." Her dress crunched as she stood up from the bed and gazed at me. "Do you understand now what you must do, my child? Do you feel better about the situation?"

I nodded. "I do, and I understand what it is that you command of me."

"The world must come together in the ultimate form of peace to combat racism: unity." And then she vanished, leaving me to my thoughts and my phone forgotten.

Specialization in The Republic

How is the ideal city set up? Who would rule it? How would the people within the city operate? 

In The Republic, Plato (as Socrates) attempts to create the perfect city as a method of defining justice. He starts this process by the idea of specialization. But what is specialization? According to Merriam-Webster Dictionary it is "the structural adaptation of a body part to a particular function or of an organism for life in a particular environment."

So why does Socrates believe that in a perfectly just city specialization is needed? On page 35, Socrates points out that "there are diversities among us which are adapted to different occupations." In a simple context he is saying that different people are suited for different things. Furthering that, whatever it is that a citizen is most suited for, that should be the only thing said citizen should ever do. The baker should bake, the farmer should farm, the soldier should fight, and so on. 

Socrates populates his perfect city with a group of citizens who are specialized in their fields; he includes the carpenters, farmers, builders, and doctors. "Will they not produce corn, and wine, and clothes, and shoes, and build houses for themselves?" This class of specialized individuals will take care that they "do not exceed their means; having an eye to poverty or war." Socrates calls this the healthy State.

After Glaucon states that this is a "city of pigs," he argues that the citizens should be given the ordinary conveniences of life such as sofas, tables, and "sauces and sweets in the modern style." Socrates concedes to create a luxurious State; this will cause the city to "fill and swell with a multitude of callings which are not required by any natural want." Such specialized callings include rhapsodists, players, dancers, contractors, tutors, nurses, tirewomen, barbers, confectioners, cooks, swineherds, and "makers of divers kinds of articles, including women's dresses." There will also need to be more physicians, and, since this "State of fever" has all of this luxuries, soldiers will be needed as war is now inevitable. The last specialized class of people Socrates mentions are the rulers. They will be in charge of the city.

According to Socrates, if each of the classes (the producing, the entertainment - for the lack of a better word - the soldiers, and the rulers) only performs the jobs and requirements that their single occupations asks of them, then the city will be just. The citizens will be just if they only practice their established art, whether that be cooking, farming, healing, etc. 

For there to be a perfectly just State, there must be specialization.  

Let Us Not Fear Death

"You are a soul carrying a corpse, as Epictetus used to say." - Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

If there is anything I have learned from my reading of Marcus Aurelius, it is that he does not think of death as many of us do. There are plenty of people in this world (myself included) who are utterly terrified of death - whether that be how we die, what happens to use after we die, when we die, etc. But reading Meditations, I've noticed that Aurelius points out that I shouldn't think of death the way I do; instead I should end my journey in contentment. 

"You have subsisted as a part of the Whole. You will vanish into that which gave you birth: or rather you will be changed, taken up into the generative principle of the universe." 

Everything in this world was born to die. Dying is such a natural process, and it is as necessary as sex or childbirth; and whether we die today, tomorrow, or fifty years from does not matter. We are a simple drop in the river of time. "There is a river of creation, and time is a violent stream. As soon as one thing comes into sight, it is swept past and another is carried down: it too will be taken on its way."

"Just as if a god told you that you would die tomorrow or at least the day after tomorrow, you would attach no importance to the difference of one day, unless you are a complete coward (such is the tiny gap of time): so you should think there is no great difference between life to the umpteenth year and life to tomorrow."

Because before long, all us will be laid out to rest side by side. 

"Think constantly how many doctors have died, after knitting their brows over their own patients; how many astrologers, after predicting the deaths of others, as if death were something important; how many philosophers, after endless deliberation on death or immortality; how many heroes, after the many others they killed; how many tyrants, after using their power over men's lives with monstrous insolence, as if they themselves were immortal. Think too how many whole cities have 'died' - Helice, Pompeii, Herculaneum, innumerable others. Go over now all those you have known yourself, one after the other:  then another one man follows a friend's funeral and is then laid out himself, then another follows him - and all in a brief space of time. The conclusion of all this? You should always look on human life as short and cheap. Yesterday sperm: tomorrow a mummy or ashes.

"So one should pass through this tiny fragment of time in tune with nature, and leave it gladly, as an olive might fall when ripe, blessing the earth which bore it and grateful to the tree which gave it growth."

So why despair over death? Life is petty, wearying - "the emptying pomp of a procession, plays on the stage, flocks and herds, jousting shows, a bone thrown to puppies, tit-bits into the fishponds, ants toiling and carrying, the scurries of frightened mice, puppets dancing on their strings." Welcome death as a precious release from a repeating life.

It is your soul that ultimately matters, not the flesh it harbors in. "You embarked, you set sail, you made port. Go ashore now. If it is to another life, nothing is empty of the gods, even on that shore: and if to insensibility, you will cease to suffer pains and pleasures, no longer in thrall to a bodily vessel which is a master as far inferior as its servant is superior. One is mind and divinity: the other a clay of dust and blood."

Friendship

"A true friendship is like a garden; it grows over time."

According to Aristotle in Nicomachean Ethics, friendship is a necessary virtue in order to live a happy life. It is necessary as no one would choose to live without friends even if he had all other material goods. Friends are a refuge in times of poverty and misfortune. The "young need friends to keep them from error. The old need friends to care for them and support the actions that fail because of weakness." Those in their prime need friends to do fine actions; for when two go together "they are more capable of understanding and acting." Friendship unites the state.

But only friendship based on goodness unites the state. Utility-based friendships and pleasure-based friendships will not.

I have had friendships that were utility-based only. These types of friendships are only established so that both people derive some benefit from each other. I never cared for these people except for what they could offer me, and they felt the same in return. But once they stopped giving me whatever it was that I wanted (vice versa for them), I would end the friendship and move on with my life.

In the same token, I have had friendships based only on pleasure. There are many people who come to mind where I only established a friendship because of their appearance, attitude, or something of similar nature. Many of my "relationships" were based on this premise. I really enjoyed looking at some of my ex-boyfriends.

And lastly, I have a friend (notice please that I did not use a past tense here) because she is a good friend. Does she provide utility? Yes. Does she provide pleasure? Yes. But I do the same for her. I enjoy being with this friend because of who she is and how she is. We have an equal exchange in pleasure, utility, and goodness. This friendship has continued to last even until now because of our mutual respect for each other and virtue. The friendship I have established based on the premise of goodness is what Aristotle would consider a perfect friendship.

But my friendship with this person took time to create. I used to rush into the other two types of friendships and never truly got to know and understand the individuals I considered "friends." We never had the familiarity that true and perfect friendships require. My friendship that is true and genuine is so because we both want to help the other, to love them before asking to be loved. Friendship depends on that: loving than being loved.

With knowing what a perfect friendship requires, I believe that I can have more than just the one I have now. And I hope to strive to make more virtuous friendships because they truly are a necessity in the journey to achieve happiness.

Justice: Harmony of the Soul

How does one define justice?

In The Republic, after criticizing the conventional theories of justice presented by Cephalus, Polymarchus,Thrasymachus, and Glaucon, Plato sets out to answer this question. For Plato, justice is the harmony of the soul. Yet this phrase, however, hardly gives one a clear sense of what justice is. Thus, Plato offers two analogies to help examine the definition of justice: the division of parts in the soul and the division of parts in the state.

The soul is divided into three parts: the appetitive, the spirited, and the rational. The appetitive is the part of the soul "with which he loves and hungers and thirsts and feels the flutterings of any other desire . . . the ally of sundry pleasures and satisfactions." The spirited is the part of the soul that is courageous, strong willed, vigorous. The spirited "when not corrupted by bad education" is the ally of the rational, the part of the soul "with which a man reasons." It has the "care of the whole soul."

By division of the soul, we are exposed to how a soul has different wills. Yet, in order for a soul to stay just, it must have some sort of hierarchy. Plato describes the hierarchy of the soul as follows: the rational has control over the appetitive, and the spirited is the ally of the rational.

To continue with Plato's definition of justice, the state is also divided into three parts: the workers, the soldiers, and the guardians. The workers are the people who are best fitted to practice a specific form of labor - whether it be to provide food, clothing, or any other necessity that the state may require. They are to be moderate and obedient to the guardians.

The soldiers are the humans who are best fitted to fight; they are spirited and possess courage. They are to be well-educated, and "that true education, whatever that may be, will have the greatest tendency to civilize and humanize them in their relations to one another, and to those who are under their protection."

The guardians are the rulers of the state - the philosophers. They possess the virtue of wisdom, and with wisdom comes the knowledge of how the city should be run. They will have a special care of the state, for "a man will be most likely to care about that which he loves." The guardians have the greatest eagerness to do what is for the "good of their country, and the greatest repugnance to do what is against her wishes."

The division of the state will begin at an early age. Children who have the nature of a guardian or a soldier but born to workers will be removed from that class and raised with other children who share the same nature. The same concept applies to children born of guardians and soldiers, but are more adept to the work of a worker.

Both the division of the soul and the division of the state have a similar structure. Justice is the same in the soul as it is in the state. The workers share a resemblance with the appetitive part of the soul: they have to be moderate in their desires. The soldiers and the spirited share the virtue of courage. The guardians and the rational share the virtue of wisdom.

If a soul that allows the appetitive part take over and commit criminal acts regardless of the consequences or allows the spirited to burst into irrational anger be considered a just soul? This rhetorical question helps support the definition of justice as harmony. The rational must rule while the spirited and appetitive remain moderate - with each part of the soul agreeing this condition is the best for the whole.

In order for a man to be just, he must be in harmony with his soul. That is the definition of justice.

Did Agamemnon Deserve to Die?

To answer this question, we need to consider both Clytemnestra's and Agamemnon's sides in The Oresteia. Agamemnon was murdered by his wife as revenge for killing their daughter, Iphigeneia. However, Agamemnon felt that sacrificing his child was necessary; the goddess Artemis would not allow the Greek army to sail unless a sacrifice was made.

A sacrifice was necessary due to Artemis' anger at Agamemnon; he killed one of her sacred, precious deer, and as revenge, she will not allow winds of Thrace to blow until a sacrifice is delivered. The victim of the sacrifice is revealed to be Iphigeneia, and Agaemnon must decide whether to kill her or not.

"Pain both ways and what is worse?
Desert the fleets, fail the alliance?
No, but stop the winds with a virgin's blood,
feed their lust, their Fury?" (211-214).

His sense of duty overwhelms the love he has for Iphiagenia, and he determines that without the sacrifice, there will be no safe passage to Troy.

This decision to sacrifice his daughter provokes Clytaemnestra into wanting to kill her husband as a means for revenge. She states that his decision is unacceptable - he could have saved Iphiagenia - and she plans to strike back with vengeance.

"Architect of vengeance
with no fear of the husband
here she waits
the terror raging back and back in the future
the stealth, the law of the hearth, the mother -
memory womb of the Fury child-avenging Fury!" (150-156).

Clytaemnestra planned the murder of her husband for the ten years he was away at war. The queen believes that justice needs to be served for her daughter. The only justice that would appease Clytaemnestra is to kill her Agamemnon - "the law of the hearth." She points out the chorus after the murder that Iphigeneia did not deserve to die; Agamemnon, as the man responsible for killing their daughter, deserves to be murdered.

"I brooded on this trial, this ancient blood fued
year by year. At last my hour came.
Here I stand and here I struck
and here my work is done.
I did it all. I don't deny it, no.
He had no way to flee or fight his destiny -" (1395-1401).

"He thought no more of it than killing a beast,
and his flocks were rich, teeming in their fleece,
but he sacrificed his own child, our daughter." (1440-1442).

Thus, back to our question: Did Agamemnon deserve to die? Combined with the evidence against him as well as extensive reading of The Oresteia, Agamemnon received just punishment for his actions. Had he not killed Artemis' precious deer, had he not sacrificed his own child, Agamemnon would have deserved to live. Yet, his actions sealed his fate, and he paid the price.