Beatrice was eight years old and Dante, nine, the first time they set eyes on each other. Instantly, he felt an abiding connection with her, even though it was nine years after that before he finally saw her again, and she greeted him, her words entwining through his heart. Lovely Beatrice, who became Dante's love, his obsession and his Muse. Never a conversation was had between them, only greetings, yet his life was filled with her presence, her goodness and grace, her being so angelic that she filled his heart until he wondered if it could contain her. All thoughts revolved around his beautiful Beatrice; she was his life and through her, his poetry gained a new vitality.
|Dante's three meetings with Beatrice|
The book's structure is unique in itself, as it is organized into chapters (probably by later translators/scribes), but nearly every chapter follows an easily recognizable pattern: first he gives an account of his life circumstances and events, almost like a journal; second he shares a poem where he again relates those circumstances, usually in the form of a sonnet or canzone; and third, an analysis of the poetry, describing his intent and the divisions of thought in each poem.
|Beata Beatrix (1864-70)|
Dante Gabriel Rossetti
I found myself vacillating between two different emotions. One one hand I wanted to say, "oh, you poor love-sick man", and on the other, "what a fool!" Why would you have your entire life be built around the gaze and approval of one person? Why would you wrap your whole soul around a being who was as transient as the wind? As for Beatrice, would it be tragically romantic to be loved this much by someone, or would it be just downright annoying? But then Dante's poetry began to speak through my cynical view, as his love and devotion to her was so apparent. His descriptions and poetry to her rang with a tender regard, high terms of respect and an abiding love. The vibrancy of his conflicting emotions, which were often buffeted by circumstances, won my heart.
|Dante and Beatrice (1883)|
Time and Again
Time and again the thought comes to my mind
Of the dark condition Love imparts to me;
Then the pity of it strikes me, and I ask:
"Could ever anyone have felt the same?"
For Love's attack is so precipitous
That life itself all but abandons me:
Nothing survives except one lonely spirit,
Allowed to live because it speaks of you.
With hope of help to come I gather courage,
And deathly languid, drained of all defenses,
I come to you expecting to be healed;
And if I raise my eyes to look at you,
Within my heart a tremor starts to spread,
Driving out life, stopping my pulses' beat.
|Six Tuscan Poets|
(Dante Alighieri, Guido Cavalcanti, Francesco Petrarch,
Giovanni Boccaccio, Marsilio Ficino & Cristoforo Landino)
After the death of his love, Beatrice, Dante made a promise, to himself, and by writing the Vita Nuova, to the world. He was going to write about Beatrice, not like he had been writing, following the pattern of a courtly love, but that he would write of her as no other woman had ever been written of before. And twelve years later, the Divina Commedia, or the Divine Comedy was born, immortalizing Beatrice, not only in verse, but in the thrones of Heaven. The Vita Nuova was certainly a new beginning ...... a new life ........
translated by Mark Musa