Canto XI -- The First Cornice: The Proud

I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read,
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed,
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look upon my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
("Ozymandias," Percy Bysshe Shelley)



Every penitent retains the power of prayer -- for both himself and for others -- and we are called to use it gracefully in full submission, like that of St. Gabriel of Our Lady of Sorrows, to God's will. Aside from "this last petition, Lord, with grateful mind,/ we pray not for ourselves, who have no need,/ but for the souls of those we left behind" (22-4), the Pater Noster is meant for the edification of the proud souls who pray from beneath the rocks that burden them -- they pray and submit, pray and submit, until there is nothing left to hold them down. Not only do they prove they can pray for themselves (Andy), but at the end of their humble prayer, the souls of Dante's Purgatorio prove they can also pray for us (see Dr. Welch's interpretation of this idea in the activities section). This is unlike what we know of those who attempt to pray in hell, for Cato of Utica tells us that the prayers of Marcia, his wife who resides in Limbo, cannot move him. We also know from scripture that the damned who have the opportunity to be heard cannot move the heavens to take pity on their prayers, for the parable of Lazarus and the rich man who is suffering torment is enough on that. The efficacy of such an act of Lazarus's returning from the dead to preach to the rich man's brothers is questioned by the parable, for the answer to the rich man is simply, "If they [your brethren] hear not Moses and the prophets [those who can legitimately pray and who have left texts behind for the 'hearing'], neither will they be persuaded, though one rose from the dead" (Luke 16:19-31). Dante takes this opportunity to exhort us to pray for these souls (31-36), and if you have a spare moment now, you might send a prayer to those you've never met, who yet circle round and round though they died in 1321 -- a prayer perhaps for Dante whose fame spreads here while his pride is chastened there. Lest we think this punishment uptight, Pope is here to remind us that "our proper bliss lies in what we blame" (282), for "one truth is clear, Whatever is, is right" (294).

In this canto, we are met with three different kinds of pride -- the first being pride of birth in the form of Guglielmo Aldobrandesco's son, Omberto, demonstrates. Dante's real fear of this ledge comes from his next encounter with Od'risi d'Agobbio, who is suffering for his pride of talent, and he points out, as a rejoinder to Dante's exhortation that we pray for the dead, that it is equally important (if not of the utmost importance) for us to turn away from sin while the power to engage it still lies within us. Od'risi's lament includes the question, "will you have/ in, say, a thousand years, more reputation/ than if you went from child's play to the grave?" (103-5). (In Dante's case, of course, this is true in seven hundred years -- what might another three hundred bring to him?) Though Dante knows that "the fame of man is like the green of grass:/ it comes, it goes; and He by whom it springs/ bright from earth's plenty makes it fade and pass" (115-7), he is not halfway through his hundred cantos (and on this ledge, neither are we). That Dante has a great deal more to learn on this cornice is exemplified by his reaction in La Vita Nuova to Beatrice's laughter at him, for he is not so much humbled in her presence as he is humiliated, and humiliation is an event derived from pride rather than humility -- allowances, of course, might be made, for we may be reading both these works synchronously, but we ought to continue to give Dante credit for growth in the two decades that separate them. Finally, Od'risi introduces Salvani as a way of taking the emphasis off himself (see how humility rules this round? where in hell it was meant to wound -- here it's the salve by which the souls have unwound) -- and he explains that good works on earth are as effective as prayers for our salvation -- they win us respite in advance for our negligence.

The canto ends with another dark prophecy against Dante (he just can't give it up), which has followed high on the heels of Od'risi's invective against the whorish Florence that will exile him.

S.