Medieval Representations of Hell: Dante’s Inferno and the Medieval Imagination

The medieval Christian concept of Hell is often associated with images of demons, Satan, fire and brimstone. Indeed, many of these images can be found in manuscripts, frescos, and paintings from the Middle Ages. Examples of these images appear in the works of Dante Alighieri, Giotto, Hieronymus Bosch, and many others. In Dante, the entrance to Hell is marked by the ominous words “abandon all hope, you who enter here.”[1] Giotto’s “The Last Judgement” at Arena Chapel in Padua, is particularly impressive[2]. In the lower right hand corner of the mural, Satan sits as the lord of the underworld, dealing in deathly delight. The Christian afterlife consists of what Rudolf Bultmann describes as the “three-story universe”, Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory[3]. For medieval Christians, questions of eschatology, of death and the afterlife, matter. Indeed, many medieval plays, such as the Last Judgement plays in England, and the Jour du Jugement in France “suggest a compelling human desire to seek and see the End.”[4]  Here, I will turn my attention to Dante’s Inferno, one of the most influential works on the topic of Hell in the Middle Ages. Inferno is a salient example of a medieval representation of Hell. I intend to explore how Hell was imagined in Inferno. I will also briefly examine the concept of Hell as it exists in Christianity, and how it connects to Dante’s Inferno. I argue that although Hell was mainly conceived by orthodox religion, the expression of Hell by the medieval laity provides us with an important point of reference for understanding how Hell was imagined during the Middle Ages. Moreover, the representations of Hell found in the artistic and literary achievements of the medieval laity continue to be quite influential. Further research will be necessary to conduct a full assessment of the question of medieval representations of Hell, especially in regards to the textual interpretation of Dante’s Inferno. In short, the Inferno is representative of how the concept of Hell was imagined during the Middle Ages.

Inferno is a classic work; it is arguably one of the most influential works of poetry composed during the Middle Ages. Inferno is part of a series of three texts: Inferno, Purgatorio, and Paradiso. Dante wrote the Divine Comedy circa 1308—1321 CE. The Divine Comedy was later transcribed by one of Dante’s contemporaries Giovanni Boccaccio. Boccaccio is often credited for the addition the word divine to The Divine Comedy. Dante had originally called “The Divine Comedy” the Comedy. A fine copy of Boccaccio’s manuscript can be found at the Biblioteca Riccardiana, the Library of Florence. Unfortunately, there are no existing manuscripts of the original Comedy. One other manuscript, Yates Thompson MS 36, which was thought to have been owned by King Alfonso V, contains many illustrations of scenes from the Inferno. This manuscript is made of parchment and was produced circa 1444—1450 CE. Examples of these illustrations include scenes from Canto III, V, and XXXIV.

 

Charon the ferryman, rowing Dante across the river Acheron, Canto III, in Inferno, Yates Thompson MS 36, f. 6r.

            In order to discuss how Dante imagined Hell, it is important to refer to the early Christian concept of Hell, and how it might have influenced Dante’s imagination. Christian ideas of the afterlife have their origins in the writings of the Old Testament. The books of Isaiah, Daniel, Amos and others, contain some of the first classic references to the hereafter. According to Helsel, early Hebrews referred to the death as Sheol, literally “grave”[5]. Here, death is characterised by the inability to worship God. When one dies, one is unable to praise and give thanks. Hessel states that “the topography of the places inhabited by the dead become more specific and personal in the later books of the Hebrew Bible, by the period of the Second Temple Judaism, and during the time of the writing of the New Testament.”[6] In ancient Hebrew thought, the afterlife is not really much of a place, but rather a non-existent state of being. To put it crudely, when you’re dead, you’re dead. It is not until later that the afterlife is conceived of in terms of Bultmann’s three-story universe, Heaven, Hell and Purgatory. According to Sweeney, Sheol “erroneously became Hell in the early Christian bibles.”[7] The Christian notions of Hell first start to appear in Saint Paul’s letters, and later in the four gospels, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.  In Luke, Hell is referred to as Hades[8]. In Mark, Jesus refers to Hell as Gehenna, “the unquenchable fire”[9]. Saint Paul appears to be silent about Hell, but often refers to God’s wrath during the final day of judgement[10]. For early Christians, death was an important part of life. In the words of Saint Paul, “as in Adam, all men must die, so in Christ all will be brought to life.”[11] It appears that without death there is no resurrection, and without resurrection there is no new life. By Jesus’s saving passion and resurrection, all of humanity will be brought back to life. The question is this: where will they end up when they are brought back to life? While some Christians view Jesus’ salvation as universal, the dominant view is more particular. People usually end up in either Heaven, Hell, or Purgatory, depending on their transgressions, and whether they have been forgiven by God. In the Divine Comedy, individuals inhabit all three dimensions of the afterlife. Of course, the concepts of Heaven, Hell and Purgatory, would develop over many centuries before they would enter into Dante’s imagination.

The early Christian concept of the afterlife appears to entertain some common themes, including the final judgement, an afterlife, and the resurrection of the dead. In early Christianity, Hell comes to be associated with both Gehenna, and Sheol. Therefore, Hell is an essential component of the afterlife. Where then do we get this business about angels, demons, and Satan? It is in the Book of Jubilees where we find a distinct cosmology featuring otherworldly beings such as angels and demons. The Book of Jubilees, sometimes referred to as the “Lesser Genesis”, written two-hundred years before Christ, had quite an impact on early Christian theology; demonology and angelology. According to Sweeney, “it is from Jubilees that the early church created many of its basic understandings of angels and their classes, types, and functions.”[12] In Sweeney’s account, the book of Jubilees offers a commentary on Genesis 6:4, “when the sons of God went into the daughters of humans who bore children to them.” explaining how some angels betrayed God’s command and began mating with human females who’s offspring would become the first demons. Despite their appearance in Jubilees, demons hardly ever make an appearance in the Hebrew Bible, and when they do they are usually taken to be metaphorical representations of danger and the unknown. Throughout the New Testament, Jesus and his apostles are often depicted roaming the land and casting out demons. This suggests that in Christian thought, demons not only exist symbolically, but in some cases also physically. In Dante’s Inferno, demons play an explicit role. As for the figure of Satan, Early Christians imagined Satan to a be fallen angel[13]. This is quite different from the earlier Hebrew understanding of “Satan” as a heavenly being acting on behalf of Yahweh, such as the figure of satan in the Book of Job. Early Christians imagined Satan to be in direct opposition to God.  

The connection between Dante and early Christian representations of Hell is implicit in the sense that upon writing Inferno, Dante was deeply immersed in Christian theology. However, while Dante tends to draw upon Christian notions of Hell found in the Bible, his medieval conception of Hell is quite different. Indeed, Dante’s Hell is quite unlike anything found in the Bible. It is a much more terrifying and confusing place than anything Jesus Christ or Saint Paul might have conceived. Dante’s representation of Hell in the Inferno is anything but boring! Not merely a lake of fire, Dante’s Hell is a complex labyrinth of torment, death, classical heroes, fire, ice and brimstone.  

Inferno follows the story of Dante’s descent into Hell. Initially, upon entering into a dark forest, Dante is confronted by three beasts: a leopard, a lion, and finally a she-wolf. Dante flees for safety, and runs into the Roman poet Virgil. Virgil, a heathen, is unable to journey with Dante to Heaven, and instead intends to take Dante to Hell: “then you shall see the ones who are content to burn because they hope to come whenever it may be, among the blessed.”[14] There is tremendous hope in this passage. Although these individuals remain in Hell, they hope to one day enter into heaven. Perhaps one day they will. Dante is then guided by Virgil through the nine circles of Hell. The first circle of Hell is “Limbo”, where we find “virtuous heathens and unbaptized babies”. The second circle is “Lust”. The third circle is “Gluttony”. The fourth circle is “Avarice and Prodigality”. The fifth circle is “Anger and Sullenness”. The sixth circle is “Heresy”. The seventh circle is “Violence”. The eighth circle is “the Ten Malebolge” (here we find sinners of the worst kind, including seducers, hypocrites, thieves, and schismatics). The ninth circle is “the Frozen Floor of Hell”. These circles represent the basic topography of Dante’s Hell. Hell is divided into two sections, upper Hell, and lower Hell, they are divided by the Gate of Dis. Each circle contains at least one demon. Among these demons are Charon, Minos, Cerberus, Plutus, Furies, Minotaur, Harpies, giants, and Satan himself. Virgil and Dante must face each of these demons on their journey through Hell.

Sandro Botticelli, Plan of Hell, Biblioteca Apolistica, The Vatican, MS Reg. lat. 1896.

Dante’s Hell is also full of references to the classical world of antiquity. Dante’s meeting with the classical literary figures of Homer, Ovid, and Lucan in canto IV, is but one example. By including himself among these poets, Dante is acknowledging his own literary greatness. In canto V, the circle of lust, we find Hellen, Paris, Achilles, Cleopatra and many others. This further demonstrates that Dante had a great knowledge of antiquity. Dante’s knowledge of the classical world can be attributed to his reading of the Roman poets Statius, among others. Dante did not have access to Greek literature. Furthermore, Dante’s knowledge of Hades and the Greek underworld, as depicted by the Roman poets, influences his vision of Hell. According to Sweeney, “the biblical Satan didn’t quite cut it. So the figure of Hades became his model for Hell’s master.”[15] Hades appears in ancient Greek myth as the god of the underworld.  It would be worthwhile to conduct a closer investigation of the relationship between Hades and Dante’s Satan, but this is not the place for it.

In the ninth circle we find Dante and Virgil nearing the end of their journey. Canto XXXIV begins with Virgil’s famous line “Vexilla regis produent inferno”[16], this translates into “the banners of the King of Hell draw closer”. This is an intense introduction to the coldest canto in the poem. Satan appears to be frozen in both space and time. Brutus and Judas Iscariot also appear in this scene, dangling in the mouth of Satan. Dante is terrified. Virgil and Dante eventually manage to climb onto Satan, and find their way up and out of the of the underworld into the light of day. Thus closes Dante’s Inferno.

Dante imagines Hell to be a place of terror, monstrosity, and parody. Paradoxically, Dante’s Hell cools down at the point where we expect it to heat up. Dante’s vision of Hell indicates that in the Middle Ages, Hell is imagined as place completely devoid of God’s presence. Indeed, Hell is the domain of Satan, sinners, and a host of demons. Dante draws from a number of influences, these include certain themes from early Christian theology, such as the Biblical references to Hell and Satan in the New Testament. However, Dante’s use of classical mythology throughout the Inferno suggests a greater influence of the classical world in his writing than that of Christian theology. Nonetheless, Dante’s Inferno is an excellent point of departure for those of us interested in the workings of the medieval imagination.

Bibliography

Alighieri, Dante. The Inferno. Translated by Robert Hollander and Jean Hollander. New York:

Anchor Books, 2000.  

Penelhum, Terrence. “Christianity.” In Life After Death in World Religions, edited by Harold

Coward, 31-47. Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1997.  

Stevenson, Jill. “Poised at The Threatening Edge: Feeling The Future in Medieval Last

Judgement Performances.” Theatre Journal 67, no 2. (2015): 273-293.

Hessel, Phillip. “Hades, Hell, and Sheol: The Reception History of the King James Version In

American Fundamentalism.” in Heaven, Hell, and the Afterlife, edited by J. Harold

Ellens, 103-119. Santa Barbara, California: Praeger, 2013.

Sweeney, Jon M. Inventing Hell, Dante, The Bible and Eternal Torment. New York: Jericho

Books, 1976. e-book.

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[1] Robert Hollander and Jean Hollander, trans., The Inferno (New York: Anchor Books, 2000), 3.9.

[2] An of image of this tremendous artistic piece can be found here, http://www.wga.hu/art/g/giotto/padova/4lastjud/00view.jpg

[3] See Terence Penelhum, “Christianity,” in Life After Death in World Religions, ed. Harold Coward (Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1997), 39.

[4] Jill Stevenson, “Poised at the Threatening Edge: Feeling the Future in Medieval Last Judgement Performances,” Theatre Journal 67, no. 2 (2015): 274.

[5] Phillip Hessel, “Hades, Hell, and Sheol: The Reception History Of The King James Version In American Fundamentalism,” in Heaven, Hell, and the Afterlife, ed. J. Harold Ellens (Santa Barbara, California: Praeger, 2013), 104.

[6] Ibid.

[7] Jon M. Sweeney, Inventing Hell, Dante, The Bible and Eternal Torment (New York: Jericho Books, 1976), 24.

[8] Lk 16:23

[9] Mrk 9:43

[10] Rom 2:5

[11] 1 Cor 15:22

[12] Sweeney, 96-97.

[13] Lk 10-18

[14] Dante, The Inferno, 1.118-120.

[15] Sweeney, 41.

[16] Dante, The Inferno, 34.1.

Tam Kung Temple Fury

While working at the University of Victoria’s Student Union Building, I have met people from all over the world. I work with folks from China, Japan, Tibet, India, Nigeria, Jamaica, and Belgium, to name only a few. Though the work environment is typical of many Western style food courts, I sometimes feel as though I’m working at the cafeteria section of the United Nations. Needless to say, food brings people together. In my area of work, I deal with goods and supplies. I am the official UVic milkman of sorts, but officially the Purchasing Agent’s assistant. At first, the job was intimidating, but as time went by I found it easier and easier. One day, I met a very kind Chef named Lum Sang. For whatever reason, he encouraged everyone to call him Uncle Frank. Reciprocally, he would always address the male staff by the name Uncle. When I needed help, Uncle Frank would often come to my assistance. Almost every day I would hear his little voice calling from down the hallway, “Good morning Uncle Ben, jou sahn, jou sahn”. Originally from Hong Kong, Uncle Frank immigrated to Canada and started his own Chinese restaurant. Eventually, he would retire and move to Gordon Head, and continue work in the culinary arts. One day, as we were talking, I brought up the topic of religion. When I asked Uncle Frank about his own religious orientation, he replied “Buddhism”.  I thought to myself, “excellent, I finally have an in for my assignment in religious studies 200 b”. The next day, Uncle Frank told me to go to a place where he occasionally visited with his family, a Buddhist temple in downtown Victoria. I wasn’t exactly sure where this place was. For a while, I wandered around Victoria’s historic Chinatown, searching for the temple. The Gates of Harmonious Interest loomed up from behind. I envisioned a festive display of dragons and lights, and rockets; but it was just my imagination. Seconds passed into minutes, and I began to wonder what life might have been like for the Chinese immigrants on their arrival here to Victoria. Life was hard in those days, and I imagine that for minorities it would have been all the more so. Romance turned to fiction, and fiction turned to reality. My mind awoke to the distant sound of an Erhu. While I was inquiring for the temple’s whereabouts, an elderly Chinese man told me to ask the retail employee of a Chinese gift shop for directions. I was told to go across the street and enter the building with the very high staircase. In retrospect, I went with very little knowledge of what I was getting myself into. I knew that this was a Buddhist temple, and that my friend, a Cantonese Buddhist, was a devotee to this temple, therefore it had something to do with some sort of Mahayana tradition within Buddhism. And so, with neither a guide or translator, I ascended the staircase and made my way to the top. There was a man at the top of the staircase, watching me as I went. It was a bit eerie. Perhaps visitors were not allowed at such times, but I persisted. To be truthful, it was a bit of a bizarre experience. In my experience of religious sites, there has always been some sort of welcome, and I have always had someone that I knew who could translate for me. This time was different though. One might say that it was a cultural misadventure. The man and I looked at one another for a few seconds; awkwardly I continued up the staircase. I introduced myself to him, and told him that I was visiting this place for a religions class. He motioned me to follow him in into the temple. I was not exactly sure what to expect. I walked into the room, and saw a fine display of art, traditional fans, various ornaments, and a shrine to who I thought was the Buddha. It was all quite colourful. I looked around some more. There was an offering place for the ancestors, I thought this was a bit out of place for a Buddhist temple, and then I thought about the complexity of religion, and how religious practices aren’t always clear cut. The more I walked around and looked at all the Chinese cultural décor, the more I questioned myself about the nature of this particular religious reality. The temple really was a beautiful place. The man seemed to be pleased with my smiley reaction, and pointed for me to put an offering of some money into the ancestor’s box, however as a broke student, I respectfully declined, and told the man I would give some money on the next visit. Although this was a bit of a lost opportunity, but the man seemed content with my decision. And, with that I gave my thanks and left the building. Down the three story staircase, and into the heart of Chinatown. Afterwards I strolled down Fisgard street, and ended up in Fan Tan Alley, where I saw from the corner of my eye a lady from an Open Mic I had played at. This lady, who I will call Stephanie, was certainly not a stranger to alternative religions and spirituality, after all, Stephanie spends part of her time dressing up as a mermaid and busking in downtown Victoria. I asked Stephanie if she knew anything about the Temple I had just gone to. Stephanie assured me that it was a Taoist temple, and not a Buddhist Temple. How strange to hear this, especially after Uncle Frank had told me that this temple was the Buddhist temple he went to, as a Buddhist. It was getting dark, and I hurried home. Two weeks later, I told Uncle Frank about my experience. I had expressed what had happened, and described it in detail to him. I asked him about the man in the temple, and Uncle Frank replied “Oh, that’s Mr. Leung Pak, you might see him doing his morning exercise around the ring road. I will tell him about you. You should go back!”. I still had questions though. After Religious Studies 200B, I went to my next class, Medieval Studies. We were discussing courtly love, and my mind wandered back to that scene in the temple. I then looked up on google, “Chinese Temple Victoria”. Then it all made sense, this was not a strictly Buddhist or Taoist temple, it was the “The Tam Kung Temple”, the oldest Chinese Temple in Canada. Astonishing! It is managed by the Yen Wo Society.  The figure in the shrine who I thought was the Buddha was actually a Chinese weather god.  When I asked Uncle Frank about Tam Kung, the Chinese weather god, he responded by saying “Ah, yes, Tam Kung, a very ancient Chinese god…”, as though Buddhism and Tam Kung had an integral connection. It is interesting to think about how our western category of religion influences how we imagine the world religious traditions to be; in reality, the “religions” of other cultures are complex, and so us westerners tend to over look these complexities and think of them as clear cut, black and white, monolithic blocks. In this case, the Tam Kung temple is a cultural space, but it also reflects a diverse group of people within the Chinese community. Religion is often best understood when there is some dialogue, otherwise, I wouldn’t have the slightest clue.