Purgatorio: A Verse Translation by Jean Hollander and Robert Hollander by Dante Alighieri, Jean Hollander (Translator), Robert Hollander

by Jean Hollander (Translator) by Dante Alighieri

Paperback

Reviews

[Finn · Rating 3 out of 5]

[3.5 stars rounded down]
"Blessed are you, who, to die a better death, here take on board the knowledge that you gain."

This was good but not nearly as interesting as Inferno was. I did not like that Dante was meaner to Virgil in this one. There was still plenty to be impressed by but I felt like I was soldiering through it much more than enjoying the piece as a whole. A lot to analyze but not a lot to be entertained by flat out without extensive explanation from my professor. Hoping Paradiso is better.

[Richard Potenza · Rating 5 out of 5]

Thoroughly enjoyable with both laugh out loud and contemplative entertainment.

[Frank · Rating 5 out of 5]

Reading this for the second time, and it is one of the greatest of all classics!

[Vee🫀 · Rating 4 out of 5]

def my fav work throughout the entire commedia

[Josh Traylor · Rating 5 out of 5]

Excellent translation with more than enough helpful notes to serve as a launching point into deeper study of the Divine Comedy.

[James Varney · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is the Hollander translation. I've read no other, but this one sure seems outstanding to me. "Purgatorio" is heavy on the theology. The poetry is often beautiful and stirring, but Part II of the Divine Comedy is at times a slog for those not familiar (or particularly interested) in theology and Roman Catholic debates. Still, Dante's vision remains astounding, and "Purgatorio" is packed with unforgettable scenes.

A footnote here illuminates just how difficult much of "Purgatorio" can be (the footnotes in these Hollander translations are invaluable overall): "For extremely useful notes on Dante's sources in these verses, Aristotle, Avicenna, Averrois, Alberto Magnus, Aquinas, along with reference to Bruno Nardi's important contribution to our awareness of Dante's schooling in such matters, see Singleton's commentary on them." OK, that's easy.

Dante hits both issues (theology and contemporary Italian city-state governance) hard in Canto XVI, talking about battles between popes and kings, church and state:
"Rome, which formed the world for good,
once had two suns that lit one road
and the other, the world's and that to God.

The one has snuffed out, the sword
is fastened to the crook, and these two,
forced to be together, must perforce go ill."

I loved this simile in Canto XIX:
"Let that be enough. Press your heels
into the ground. Raise your eyes to the lure
the Eternal King whirls with his majestic spheres.

Like the falcon that at first looks at its feet,
and only then turns to the call and stretches up
in its desire for the food that draws it,

such I became and, so impelled, I went
as far as the cleft rock allowed for the ascent
to where the circling starts again."

In Canto XXIX, Dante arrives in the Garden of Eden and the last Cantos are spectacular. Virgil is still with him at the beginning, surprisingly, although he does not have lines for a while and ultimately departs somewhat inconspicuously. Dante gives another heartfelt literary thank you to Virgil, although I find the relationship between the two somewhat uneven: at times Dante almost seems to mock him, or cut him down, while at others he is obviously smitten and in awe of Virgil. In any event:

"From above flared the glorious array,
far brighter than the moon, bright
at mid-month in a midnight sky.

Full of wonder, I turned to my good Virgil
and he answered with a look
no less charged with amazement

Then I raised my face again to the high mysteries.
They moved so slowly toward us
even newly wedded brides would have outpaced them."

Again, it's just a spectacular vision Dante unfolds. The water is so transparent it is "algow." A procession the Hollanders (and perhaps others) call "the Church triumphant" flows past the visitors:

"I paused to have a better view

and saw the flames advance,
leaving behind them painted air
as though they had been brushes in a painter's hand,

so that above us blazed in streaks
the seven bands in all the hues the sun
takes for his bow and Delia for her girdle.

Then this ethereal parade, with a chariot
that puts to shame any that carried
Augustus, of Scipio Africanus after he
defeated Hannibal at Zama."

And even with the very helpful notes, I remain puzzled by what Dante means toward the very end in Canto XXXIII when he writes:

"For I see clearly and do thus declare:
stars already near at hand promise us a time
safe from all delay, from all impediment

when a Five Hundred Ten and Five,
sent by God, shall slay the thieving wench
and the giant sinning there beside her."

Surely Dante refers to Revelations, but 515? Where's that from; what does that signify?

That's just one of the thorny, confusing elements to "Purgatorio" that, for this reader's money, make it somewhat less enjoyable a read than "Inferno."