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You cite “three layers of human experience” as one of the ways to make sense of Dante’s journey. I’m going to hazard adding another — perhaps a more practical, yet hidden one — to help comprehend this encounter. What the animals may symbolize is, as you note, well-trodden ground. But a particular aspect of sense-making he employed when faced with the three beasts would, I suspect, escape a modern academic or reader. If experience is the chief architect of the brain, mine convinces me that Dante brought a very particular expertise with him — that of a hunter. I suspect Dante aficionados are now spitting up their espressos, but hear me out…

First, hunting was an elite pastime among men of Dante Alighieri's social class. It was a status symbol and a form of leisure that demonstrated prowess, bravery, diligence, patience, and cunning. It was viewed as practice for combat (Dante fought as a cavalryman at the Battle of Campaldino in 1289). It would not have been unusual for someone of his standing to participate in, or to at least to have been a familiar with hunting. Second, he employs hunting as a metaphor or simile in several instances in the Divine Comedy. For example, he uses the imagery of a hunter who has tracked down his prey to describe how the souls are pursued by their punishment; he compares himself to a hunter; he makes reference to God as a divine hunter, and he describes the movement of souls in heaven as being like the flight of birds when hunters approach. This hunting imagery would have been quite familiar to his contemporary audience.

Listen to Jose Ortega Y Gasset, the Spanish philosopher (and hunter), in his “Meditations on Hunting” (1943) recount what could well describe the Pilgrim’s dark woods rendezvous:

“In fact, the only man who truly thinks is the one who, when faced with a problem, instead of looking only straight ahead, toward what habit, tradition, the commonplace, and mental inertia would make one assume, keeps himself alert, ready to accept the fact that the solution might spring from the least foreseeable spot on the great rotundity of the horizon. Like the hunter in the absolute outside of the countryside, the philosopher is the alert man in the absolute inside of ideas, which are also an unconquerable and dangerous jungle. As problematic a task as hunting, meditation always runs the risk of returning empty-handed.”

From “Meditations” again: “…with maximum frequency, when a philosopher wanted to name the attitude in which he operated when musing, he compared himself with the hunter.” Many philosophers and poets (Plato, Aristotle, Xenephon, Chaucer, Shakespeare, etc.) found hunting a rich source for “musing.” Dante, I am convinced, was no exception.

A hunter — in Dante’s case, an unarmed hunter (and veteran) — would instantly revert to the ancient strands of his DNA and grasp and characterize the unique threat posed by each beast. The famous hunter Jim Corbett said “The word 'Terror' is so generally and universally used in connection with everyday trivial matters that it is apt to fail to convey, when intended to do so, its real meaning.” Only someone, I think, that has hunted or been in combat would fully appreciate the Paleolithic depth of the Pilgrim’s analysis. He is not panicked, if we understand panic to be “flight” driven by overwhelming fear in order to secure safety. He is, quite naturally, fearful — his “blood and pulse shudder”; but he “looks intently at the pass”; he let his “tired body rest awhile”; and “he had often to turn back again“ which certainly demonstrates both a diligence, and a subtle, calculated sense of the predators he faces. As Gasset says, “This is what hunting really is: a contest or confrontation between two systems of instincts…In the animal fear is permanent; it is his way of life, his occupation.” The Pilgrim is an alert man, but animals live in complete alertness, so they easily counter his steps (“he so impeded my ascent…she stalked me, step by step”). The Pilgrim, who lacks the honed instincts of the animal, substitutes determination; the poet, Dante, utilizes cunning to get his hunter out of his predicament (“…before my eyes there suddenly appeared…”) Convince me Canto 1 isn’t a hunter’s tale.

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Wow. Very interesting point of view. Nevertheless I was reconsidering the text word by word and what I noticed is that our Poet not only tells of encountering three animals attacking him, which generally is not the typical hunting situation, but also he is accurately describing his own emotional/spiritual situation. He speaks of : 1) turning back 2) fear 3) fear and loss of hope. These do not seems to me very indicative of an hunting attitude. Also, the ending of this suspense moment is indicative of the devastating condition of his soul after those three encounters: he is desperately asking God for help with the word of the psalmist and he seems in a miserable state. I am no hunting expert, but my hunting friends tell me that their attitude is more of an exciting adventure type. Finally, Dante the Pilgrim ends up being rescued by the grace of God, which seems to me indicating that God is hunting him, not viceversa. BTW, exactly as happened to me and many other, but this is another story. In any case, I loved your comment. Made me think about the hunting element in the Comedy and I guess we will find it a lot, especially falconry.

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Claudia, thanks, great points all. I think the beauty of the Divine Comedy (all great poetry, in fact) is what the poet tells you about yourself. The layer I “extracted”, I suppose, comes from the experiential filters I applied (consciously and subconsciously). I drew a distinction between his encounter with “dangerous” (leopard, lion, wolf) versus “non-dangerous” game (e.g., deer). If I’m an unarmed pilgrim and I see a deer, I count my self lucky to be graced by its beauty. If I’m unarmed and see a leopard, lion or wolf I have an entirely different reaction... Your friends are right; hunting (which is mostly armed hiking, TBH) can be an exhilarating adventure, but like all adventures can be also be supremely disappointing (e.g., your hopes are dashed and you have to turn back). I hadn’t discovered these hints until this read, so I feel very lucky to have seen the poem with a new set of eyes yet again. The poet Robert Frost said “How many things have to happen to you until something occurs to you?”

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Thank you Corey and Claudia for this rich discussion. I'm always seeking to get outside my own frame of understanding by reading the text as a missive from another time and place. Your discussion gives me a new lens for considering Dante's experience (both as Pilgrim and Poet). Also, Corey, I keep running into references about philosopher Jose Ortega Y Gasset, which make me want to explore his work but I haven't the first clue of where to begin. Do you have any recommendations?

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Amy, thanks for sparking the discussion. I’m no expert, and he was a prolific essayist, but among the hunting “literati” “Meditations on Hunting” is di rigueur as a thoughtful treatise on hunting and the ethics thereof. Others more familiar with his works may weigh in, but I think he is probably best known for his book “The Revolt of the Masses” (1929) and its exploration of the crisis of civilization and modern society. He explores the tension between his “mass man” (hombre-masa) and society’s elites (Spoiler alert: he had a complex relationship with democracy…) The work warrants a critical eye, but it’s fascinating to hear from an eminently readable observer who is writing at the juncture of monarchism, republicanism, civil war, and a dictatorship. He and the Columbian philosopher Nicolas Gomez Davila may both be off the beaten path, but they do pose interesting critiques of modernity. (I’m primarily there for their hunting commentary, tho.)

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Awesome, thanks! I’ll look for those essays and let you know what I think. :)

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Looking forward to the next essay connecting the creation stories. I've been reading Genesis lately, just got to the story of Abraham. I can see why it fired the imagination of artists like Dante and Milton. Utter simplicity in the creation stories themselves but so much complexity in interpretation.

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