Commentary Par XXXII 37-39

John Carroll (DDP Carroll.Par.XXXII.1-48) was perhaps the first to claim that the arrangement of the named souls might have an iconographical effect: 'It is not likely to be accidental that the Rose is thus blessed with the sign of the Cross on each side.'  The design formed in the Rose by those who are named is possibly reminiscent of the T or tau, the emblem of the cross so important in the iconography of St. Francis, as Fleming, among others, has demonstrated (Flem.1982.1), pp. 99-128.  Francis knew that Ezechiel (9:4) had said that the faithful would all be marked with the tau on their foreheads and took it as his particular version of the sign of the cross.

When we consider the saints in the order they are named (the numeration is provided in the diagram below), our sense of that is reinforced, since the poet first fills up the I-stem of the figure (plus the idiosyncratic adjunct of Beatrice, for which see C.Par.XXXII.9), then arranges the bar of the T in a chiasmus (15-14-13-16), and then finally adds its foot, chronologically ordered (Anne, then Lucy).

Montanari ({Mont.1974.1}), p. 256, points out the symmetries in the arrangement of this seating plan of Heaven; the stadium is divided into corresponding zones by the following six groups, further sorted into three pairs: Old Testament, New Testament; Men, Women (both of these groups on horizontal axes); Adults, Infants (on a vertical axis).

Since our subject is Dante, it will come as no surprise to the reader to learn that even this diagram (above) is controversial.  While there is consensus among some, perhaps expressed in the clearest and briefest terms by Pernicone (Pern.1965.1), p. 109, there is a surprising amount of disagreement over what seems close to self-evident.  Among the issues found variously among the discussants are the following: (1) Do the indications 'left' and 'right' ([Par XXXII 121-124]) indicate directions from the protagonist's perspective or from (respectively) the Virgin's and John's? (2) Does Dante consider Lucy and Anne as figures who should be present in the 'Christian' or 'Jewish' section of the Rose, and has he botched his placement of them as a result? (3) How many rows are there in this celestial stadium?

(1) There are intensely held views on either side of this issue.  For a discussion of these, see Russi (Russ.1968.1), pp. 1176-87, who devotes a major portion of his lectura to a labored attempt at resolving the directional indications in the canto.  Picone (Pico.2002.8), p. 494, is matter-of-fact in declaring that we are seeing them from the perspective of Dante's left and right.  Such a view would require that the reader imagine the post-Advent saints as seated to Mary's left, and those pre-Advent to her right.  It is true that the poet does not make their disposition clear, leaving us to deal with the question.  On the other hand, placing the New Testament figures to Mary's left would seem an implausible choice.  God would not be so rude a host to these heroes of Christianity in forming His Eternal Seating Plan.

(2) The question of the arrangement of the two souls on either side of John the Baptist (see [Par XXXII 133-138]) has also been strangely controversial.  Several commentators contrive to put Lucy to John's right, believing her a pre-Christian figure.  Russi (Russ.1968.1), p. 1187, accepting this arrangement, goes on to argue that she is not the historical Lucy, but a symbol of illuminating grace.  (It is surprising how long it was until a commentator treated Lucy as historical, the third-century martyr from Syracuse; the first appears to have been Portirelli [DDP Portirelli.Par.XXXII.136-141] in the early nineteenth century.  Did his precursors really believe that Dante had granted an allegory a seat in Heaven, in which it would eventually wear its own flesh?. The situation barely improves in more recent times, when, even after Lucy of Syracuse has entered the commentary tradition, some moderns revert to the age-old error.

(3) Picone (Pico.2002.8), p. 495, discussing [Par XXXII 16-18], which enumerate the seven levels of the stadium down from Mary through Ruth, goes on to extrapolate from that passage an erroneous supposition, namely, that there are only that many rows in the upper half of the Rose.  From that assumption he (only logically) calculates that the lower half (the kindergarten, as it were) must be comprised of the same number of rows (seven).  However, what we know does not accord easily with his hypothesis.  See, for the vast upward expanse of the Rose, [Par XXX 115-118] and [Par XXXI 73-75] (where we learn that Beatrice, not even in the highest rank of the Rose, is at a distance even greater than that between the lowest point on earth and the farthest reach of its atmosphere).  If we were to accept Picone's calculations, we would have to understand that a mere twelve rows of the Rose rose upward in that vast a space.  (Not to be preferred are other attempts at numerical precision, even if they seem properly more grandiose.  See, for instance, Russi (Russ.1968.1, p. 1169, citing G. Barone in 1906 as having calculated the rows as numbering 1,290.)  Indeed, the text itself makes it quite clear that there are more Hebrew women beneath Ruth, forming the dividing line.  (What it doesn't tell us is whether the line stops at the halfway mark [see C.Par.XXXII.40-48] to be continued by female Hebrew babies, or whether, as at least Singleton believes, it goes all the way to the Rose's 'floor' [see C.Par.XXXII.16-21]).  Further, if Dante accepted, at least as an approximate guide, the canonical 144,000 who make up the citizenry of the Empyrean (see C.Par.XXX.103-108 and C.Par.XXXI.115-117), Picone's fourteen rows would each need to seat more than ten thousand souls.  To be fair, he was led to this view by his arguably possible interpretation of the word soglie (either 'seats' or 'tiers'; he chooses the former).  That, however, is to neglect the clear significance of the word soglia at [Par XVIII 28], which clearly illuminates the next use of the word at [Par XXXII 13]; in both these uses Dante is fairly obviously referring to 'rows' and not individual 'seats.'  Perhaps the rhyme position helps explain the use he made of an expanded meaning of the word.

Other, if less noticed, problems about the population of the Rose are caused by the location of Beatrice's presence in it.  This is obviously idiosyncratic to this particular viewer, since it is the only element not part of a balanced design.  And, compounding that problem, her placement itself seems to be problematic, out of order.  From what we are nearly forced to extrapolate from the arrangement seen in the top row, the center lines divide male from female on both sides of the Rose.  Thus Beatrice should be next to a male (e.g., Benedict).  Iconography apparently trumped the boy-girl ordering principle in Dante's mind.  Further, he had boxed himself into this arrangement in [Inf II 102], where Beatrice says that Lucy came to her in Heaven where she was seated next to Rachel.  In any case, there does not seem to be a way around the fact that in placing Beatrice next to Rachel, Dante has violated his own unstated but clearly formulated rules.  The following arrangement is based on the left-right axis as provided for in item (1), above.