But Oltra la spera is a sonnet marked by the triumphant energy of its opening, and the poet does not remain blocked. The last tercet marks a triumphant turn towards understanding. We note the epistemological vigour of “So io” – “I know” – at the outset of the last tercet:
So io che parla di quella gentile,
perché sovente ricorda Beatrice,
sì che lo ’ntendo ben, donne mie care.
(Oltra la spera, 12–14)
[I know it speaks about that noble one,
because it often mentions Beatrice,
and this, dear ladies, I can understand.]
The poet knows that the sigh is speaking about Beatrice, whose name is recorded here, “remembered” in the text of the sonnet (“perché sovente ricorda Beatrice”) just as it is written in the poet’s memory. The importance of memory in this history of love for a dead lady cannot be overstated, and has been thematized in lines such as “Era venuta nella mente mia / quella donna gentil cui piange Amore [That lady came into my memory,/the noble one because of whom Love weeps]” (Era venuta, 1–2). The name functions here as a sign of epistemological conquest, of intellectual possession.
Oltra la spera confronts an exquisitely Dantean problem: not only that of going beyond, but also that of how to bring back and to utilize the knowledge acquired through such “oltraggio” (the noun, based on oltre, which Dante uses for his final vision in Par. 33.57: “e cede la memoria a tanto oltraggio [and memory fails at such a going beyond]”). In the end the functionality and utility of such knowledge is affirmed: “sì che lo ’ntendo ben, donne mie care [and this, dear ladies, I can understand]” (14). There is no contradiction between “io no·llo ’ntendo [I cannot understand]” of verse 10 and “sì che lo ’ntendo ben [I can understand]” of verse 14, as Cecco Angiolieri pedantically suggested.155 There is rather the dynamic of the sonnet, which transitions from the mystical experience that remains inaccessible to consciousness (one senses the Pauline “nescio [I know not]” in “io no·llo ’ntendo”) to that which is grasped and understood.
The robust affirmation of understanding that concludes Oltra la spera anticipates the passage of Paradiso 4 where Dante affirms that “nostro intelletto [our intellect]” arrives at truth, and that it rests in the truth like a beast in its lair: “Posasi in esso, come fera in lustra,/tosto che giunto l’ha; e giugner puollo [Mind rests in truth, like a beast in its lair, as soon as it reaches it; and mind can reach it]” (Par. 4.127–8). In Paradiso’s heroic affirmation “tosto che giunto l’ha [as soon as it reaches it],” referring to the intellect, we hear the echo of the “new intelligence” of Oltra la spera, which “has reached the place of its desire”: “è giunto là dove disira.”
57 (B XXXVII; FB 57; DR 70; VN XLI.10–13 [30.10–13])
First Redaction
Oltra la spera che più larga gira passa il sospiro ch’esce del mio core; intelligenza nova che l’Amore
Beyond the sphere that makes the widest sweep proceeds the sigh that issues from my heart: a new intelligence that Love, in tears,
4
piangendo mette in lui poi sù lo tira. E quando è giunto là dove disira, vede una donna che riceve onore e luce sì che per lo suo splendore
instils in it, then sends it up above. When it has reached the place of its desire, it sees a lady held in high esteem who shines so brightly with reflected light
8
lo pellegrino spirito la mira.
the pilgrim spirit can then gaze on her.
Vedela tal, che quando il mi ridice io no·llo ‘ntendo, sì parla sottile
It sees her such that when it tells me this I cannot understand the subtle words
11
al cor dolente che lo fa parlare. So io che parla di quella gentile, perché sovente ricorda Beatrice,
addressed to my sad heart, which makes it speak. I know it speaks about that noble one, because it often mentions Beatrice,
14
sì che lo ‘ntendo ben, donne mie care.
and this, dear ladies, I can understand.
VN 1. Oltre l. – 4. pur su – 5. Quand’elli è – là ove (Gorni) – 8. peregrino – 13. però che spesso r.
METRE: sonnet ABBA ABBA CDE DCE.
58 Per quella via che la Bellezza corre [Per quella via che·lla Bellezza corre]
Two Redactions
In his 2002 critical edition of the Rime, De Robertis intervenes in the reception of this sonnet, printing two redactions of it: one with the heading “versione ar” and the other with the heading “il medesimo in lezione Am Mc1” (“the same in the Am Mc1 reading”) (vol. 3, pp. 350–1). In his introductory essay to the sonnet, De Robertis presents the two redactions as equally valid from a philological perspective: he states categorically that there are no reasons for considering one version preferable to the other. The philologist urges us to consistency, not choice. If we choose a version because of one variant we must remain faithful to that version for all the variants (“choosing chiese means excluding giunse” [vol. 3, p. 348]). He insists that it is not permissible to mix variants to achieve the preferred pastiche, as Barbi had done in his 1921 edition: “If we are in the presence of at least two redactions, not necessarily, I repeat, the author’s, the choice must be consistent, contaminations are not allowed (the text of [Barbi’s] Dante ’21 is clearly contaminated)” (vol. 3, p. 348).
In his 2005 commentary edition of the Rime, De Robertis intervenes still more markedly in the fortunes of this sonnet, including only the “versione ar” and leaving out entirely “the same in the Am Mc1 reading” (ed. comm., p. 327). He thus privileges one version over the other. (This privileging was perhaps already subtly implied by the rubrics in the critical edition, whereby one is “the version” and the other is “the same as” but different from the first and privileged version.) Why, given the equal philological validity of the two redactions strenuously proclaimed by De Robertis himself in the critical edition, does only one version appear in the more accessible edition with commentary? This is not a trivial matter, for the two versions are markedly different. Version ar (Per quella via che·lla Bellezza corre) and version Am Mc1 (whose incipit is almost identical: Per quella via che la Bellezza corre) differ in particular with respect to the name “Lisetta”: in place of “Lisetta” in line 3,“vanne Lisetta baldanzosamente [Lisetta sallies forth audaciously]” (version Am Mc1, 3), version ar attests the name (presumably allegorical) of “Licenza”: “passa Licenza baldanzosamente [Licence goes along audaciously]” (version ar, 3).
The version of the sonnet clearly privileged by De Robertis, insofar as it is the only version present in his “popularizing” 2005 one-volume commentary edition of the Rime, is thus the “Licenza” version: the only lady’s name present in De Robertis’ commentary edition is the name “Licenza.” The variant “Lisetta” vanishes: that name, burnished in the imaginations of centuries of readers, the name that has in fact become the shorthand way of referring to the sonnet, called traditionally “the Lisetta sonnet,” is no longer there. Omitting “Lisetta,” De Robertis intervenes not only in the philological accuracy of his transmission but in the interpretation of the sonnet. By omitting the “Lisetta” version altogether, De Robertis effectively promotes an allegorical reading for Per quella via.
In this commentary I honour what De Robertis calls the equal philological validity of the two versions, ar and Am Mc1, by including both of them. My interpretation will give precedence to the “Lisetta” version, but not by omitting the “Licenza” version.
The omission of Lisetta from De Robertis’ commentary edition is the more notable in light of the long history of the name in the centuries-old commentary tradition on the rime. “Lisetta” is a name known to the author of the Ottimo Commento of 1333, who cites it in the context of Beatrice’s reprimand of Purgatorio 31: “Non ti dovea gravar le penne in giuso,/… o pargoletta / o altra novità con sì breve uso [No young girl or other novelty with such brief use should have weighed down your wings]” (Pur
g. 31.58–60). Ottimo writes: “And she says, that neither the young woman who is called pargoletta in the Rime, nor Lisetta, nor the other, the montanina [lady from the mountains], neither that one nor the other should weigh down his wings” (Ottimo Commento). And Aldobrandino Mezzabati of Padova, in his response sonnet to Per quella via (a response per le rime, using the same rhymes as Dante’s), Lisetta vòi de la vergogna sciorre [Lisetta I want to release you from shame], writes in defence of the beautiful lady of Per quella via che la Bellezza corre, and he calls her by name: Lisetta.
Mezzabati, remembered by Dante in De vulgari eloquentia as the only poet from the Veneto who wrote in the volgare illustre (1.14.7), was capitano del popolo in Florence from May 1291 to May 1292, and at first Barbi had proposed this period for the date of Per quella via, identifying Lisetta with the donna gentile of the Vita Nuova. Barbi eventually suggested a late date for Per quella via, on the basis of a possible connection between Lisetta and a correspondence between Giovanni Quirini and other poets from the Veneto; following this line of thought, Barbi placed Per quella via as the final poem of his edition of the Rime. The suggestion that Per quella via and Aldobrandino’s response belong to the Giovanni Quirini time frame did not, however, meet with critical consensus. In the Barbi-Pernicone edition (1969), Vincenzo Pernicone added a final note after Barbi’s note, in which he reasserts the importance of the Florentine period of messer Aldobrandino for the dating of Per quella via: “more than justified is the tendency of most recent scholars to bring the sonnet back to the time in which messer Aldobrandino Mezzabati, who responded per le rime to Dante’s sonnet, was capitano del popolo in Florence, from May 1291 to May 1292” (p. 658). Foster-Boyde go further (1967), moving the sonnet to a position that reflects a date circa the period of the Vita Nuova. No longer situated last, Per quella via is positioned by Foster-Boyde right after Oltra la spera, a placement followed here as well.
Per quella via narrates a seduction, or rather, a failed seduction. Over the course of fourteen lines, this wonderful sonnet presents a drama of extraordinary complexity in language of extraordinary freshness and vitality. There are three main thematic strands, on which I will focus my discussion: the moral drama, that of an explosive and powerful desire that is nevertheless repelled; the metaphorization of this moral drama as movement, as a journey; and the “social” issues, of gender in particular, that are superimposed on the ethical issues.
Per quella via recounts a love story, but not from a quotidian point of view: the sonnet dramatizes the journey of falling in love in terms of the principles of scholastic philosophy. The best gloss is the great discourse on love in Purgatorio 18, which describes how the human soul, which was created already disposed to love, moves towards every thing that is pleasing (note the insistence on movement that pervades this discourse in Purgatorio), drawing an image from the pleasing object that is then “unfolded” in the soul: if the soul then turns towards that object, “quel piegare è l’amor [that turning-towards is love]” (Purg. 18.26). However, since not all things that please us are worthy, the human soul is endowed with a capacity of choice and rejection: “innata v’è la virtù che consiglia,/e de l’assenso de’ tener la soglia [inborn in you is the power that counsels, and it must keep the threshold of assent]” (Purg. 18.62–3). The “power that counsels” is reason, which counsels the will on what it ought to want and not want, and which “keeps the threshold of assent.” With extreme metaphorical concision, Dante declares that reason is the guardian that must give its assent before the door of the soul is opened, before the pleasing thing is admitted and accepted as a legitimate object of our inclination: of our love.
The image of the pleasing thing enters through the eyes, and it is at this point that the drama of Per quella via begins: down the path that beauty walks when she goes to the soul to solicit love, Lisetta boldly advances, trusting in the power of seduction with which she believes she can conquer the poet (“tôrre” = togliere, “to take away,” translated here “to get the best of me” [4]). But, once the image of Lisetta has arrived at “quella torre / che s’apre quando l’anima consente [the tower’s base,/which opens when the soul provides consent]” (5–6) – that is, once she has arrived at the point where the “consent” of the subject is required to let her enter (precisely as theorized in the discourse in Purgatorio, and with the same metaphor of a fortified building that requires leave to enter) – a voice impedes her, refusing her entry in strong but courteous terms and telling her to return whence she came and not to stay: “Volgiti, bella donna, e non ti porre! [Turn back, fair lady, you may not remain]” (8).156
The voice that blocks Lisetta in such a theatrical way, in direct discourse, also explains the cause of the refusal, a cause that is truly the crux of the situation. There is an other, who was there first, who already holds lordship over Dante, a lordship conceded to her by Love from the moment that she reached the mind of the poet: “ché donna dentro nella mente siede / la qual di signoria tolse la verga:/tosto che giunse, Amor sì glila diede [for here within a lady now resides / who seized the sceptre of authority:/as soon as she arrived, Love tendered it]” (9–11). We note that in the case of the first lady too there had been a journey, and an arrival (“tosto che giunse [as soon as she arrived]”), so that Dante provides an archeology of the soul on two levels: first the arrival of the original lady who, having arrived some time ago, now resides in his mind, and then the exuberant arrival of Lisetta. In conclusion, the circle is closed: Lisetta, who arrives “[p]er quella via che la Bellezza corre [(a)long the path that Beauty quickly moves]” (1), leaves “di quella parte dove Amor alberga [from that abode where Love sets up its home]” (13). Let go, turned away, finding herself “dismissed” (“acommiatar”) (12), she is ashamed: “tutta dipinta di vergogna riede [she goes away completely steeped in shame]” (14). The final verb closes the circle: “riede,” analogous to Latin redit, means “she goes back” (De Robertis, ed. comm., p. 328). The command “Volgiti” (“Turn back”) has thus been executed: Lisetta, who was thinking of conquering, is conquered.
From the ethical point of view, the issue raised here is discussed frequently in this commentary: it concerns the morality of choice in the affective domain, the ethics of finding a new love, whether to replace a living love (see Cavalcando l’altr’ier) or after the death of the first love (see the sonnets around the donna gentile: Videro gli occhi miei, Color d’amore, L’amaro lagrimar, and Gentil pensero). We cannot say with certainty that the lady who resides in the mind of the lover in Per quella via is dead, nor can we exclude that she may be. In any case, the identification of Lisetta with the donna gentile (a cause of major disputes, summarized by Pernicone in the article “Lisetta” in the Enciclopedia dantesca) is not the major issue; what is important is that Lisetta represents in Dante’s life what the donna gentile represents, in that she is the other. Lisetta is a version of the seduction of the new, the seduction of alterity. She is an early embodiment of the ethical situation that Beatrice talks about when she says, “questi si tolse a me, e diessi altrui [he took himself from me and gave himself to others]” (Purg. 30.126).
Per quella via poses the ethics of a new love with particular vitality by means of the formidable dramatic qualities that Dante manages to compress into its fourteen lines. The dramatic qualities of the sonnet inhere in the predominant verbs of motion, and also in the three lines of direct discourse that are literally central, placed between the octave and the sestet. The plot of an arrival and a refusal of entry is conducted with energy and vigour by the verbs, not only those of motion (“corre” [1]), “va” [2], “vanne” [3], “giunse” [5], “Volgiti” [8], “giunse” [11], “acommiatar” [12], “riede” [14]), but also those of stasis, which refer to the lady already dwelling in the poet’s mind: her journey to the mind of the poet already happened some time ago (“tosto che giunse, Amor sì glila diede [as soon as she arrived, Love tendered it]” [11]), and her dominion now is expressed in static verbs like “nella mente siede [reside
s in the mind]” (9) and “dove Amor alberga [where Love sets up its home]” (13). To Lisetta, such stasis is prohibited, for she is not allowed to stop and take up residence: “Volgiti, bella donna, e non ti porre! [Turn back, fair lady, you may not remain]” (8). The expression “non ti porre,” literally “you may not put yourself here,” bespeaks the stasis (in this case refused) of fulfilled desire.
In the pair “alberga”/“riede,” where the first verb denotes the love associated with the original lady (albergare = to stay at the inn, here “sets up its home”) and the second the love associated with the new, rejected lady (“she goes away”), we find condensed the metaphor that will be expressed in the great parable in the Convivio, in which the soul goes in search of the “albergo” (“inn”) and does not find it: