The Center of the Mystery
By Doug Talley

"O love is the crooked thing,”sang the poet W. B. Yeats. “There is nobody wise enough to find out all that is in it…” (From the poem “Brown Penny”, Selected Poems of William Butler Yeats, M.L. Rosenthal, editor, The MacMillan Company, New York, 1972.) 

None may be wise enough, yet many have ventured, and few have articulated that venture more precisely or obsessively than Dante Alighieri. From the moment he first saw Beatrice, at the age of nine, he was sworn to High Love and thereby led to a “New Life.” His early book of that same title was a treatise on love and poetry both, and he undertook to describe all he could about both subjects. From the very outset of the Vita Nuova he is gripped by joy and misery and by the spiritual and physical effects of love, as the following excerpts attest:

New Life by Dante Alighieri

I

In that part of the book of my memory before which there is little to be read, a rubric is found which says, New Life Begins. Under this rubric I find written such words as I intend to copy into this booklet, and if not all of them, at least their substance.

II

Nine times already from my birth the heaven of light had returned almost to the middle point of its revolution, when before my eyes first appeared the glorious lady of my mind, who was called by many Beatrice, without understanding the significance. She had already been so long in this life that, in her time, the star-filled heavens had turned to the East one twelfth of a degree in a century, so that she was almost at the beginning of her ninth year when she appeared to me, and I saw her almost at the end of my ninth year. She appeared dressed in a most noble sanguine color, both modest and right, girded and adorned in a manner fitting for one of such young age. 

At that very moment truly, I say, the vital spirit, which dwells in the hidden most chamber of the heart, commenced to tremble so deeply as to manifest throughout my slightest pulses in a horrible fashion, and in so trembling, said these words, Here is a god greater than I, come to rule over me. At that point the animal spirit, which dwells in that high chamber in which all the sensory spirits bear their perceptions, began to marvel greatly, and speaking particularly to the spirits of vision, said these words, Your beatitude has now appeared.  And then the natural spirit, which dwells in that part where our nourishment is ministered, began to cry, and in crying said these words, Dear Misery, how frequently will I be burdened hereafter. 

From that time forward, I say, Love ruled my soul, which was quite disposed to him, and began to sway over me with such confidence and such bearing from the force which my imagination gave him, that it suited me to do all his pleasure. He commanded me many times that I seek out this youngest of angels, wherefore in my boyhood I often went in search of her, and I saw in her such a noble and praiseworthy bearing that the words of the poet Homer could certainly be said of her, “She did not seem to be a daughter of mortal man, but of God.” 

And while her image, which was continually with me, served the boldness of Love to rule over me, nevertheless it was of such a noble quality that at no time did it suffer that Love govern me without the faithful counsel of reason in those matters where such counsel was useful.  And lest it seem that by dwelling on such passions and acts of early youth I speak of something fabulous, I will depart from them, and passing over many things which could be drawn on as the example from which these spring, I will come to those words which are written in my memory under more expanded paragraphs. 

  IV

From the time of this vision forth my natural spirit was impaired in its function, because my soul was wholly consumed with thoughts of this most gentle woman; accordingly I began shortly to be of such a frail and weakened condition that to many friends my countenance proved troubling, and many others full of ill-will probed to discover of me that which I wished to totally conceal from anyone. And realizing the hostility of their questioning, by the will of Love, who directed me according to the counsel of reason, I responded that it was Love who so governed me. I spoke of Love, because I bore in my countenance so many signs of his influence that I was not able otherwise to disguise it. And when they asked me, “By whom has Love so diminished you,” I only smiled and said nothing. 

  XI

I swear that when she appeared by the way, for the hope I had of her miraculous greeting, none remained my enemy, but rather a flame of charity so kindled within me that any who had ever offended me I felt to pardon; and if any would have posed to me any question whatsoever, my only response would have been “Love”, with a countenance clothed in humility.  And when she neared the point of greeting, a spirit of love, vanquishing all other spirits of perception, cast out the feeble spirits of vision and said to them: “Go and honor your Lady”; and Love instead took their place. 

And any who wished to know Love could then know him by gazing at the tremor of my eyes.  And when this most gentle Lady spoke her greeting, Love would not mediate to shade me from such intolerable beatitude, but rather wield an almost excessive sweetness over me so that my body, which was wholly governed by his rule, often proceeded like a sluggish, inanimate creature. Therefore, it is manifestly apparent that in her greeting my blessedness resided, which many times exceeded and overwhelmed my capacity. 

  XII

And now, returning to my matter, I declare that after her graciousness was denied me, I was so afflicted with grief that departing from all others, I went to a solitary spot to wet the earth with most bitter tears. And after I was somewhat relieved by such weeping, I returned to my room where I was able to mourn without being heard; and there, calling on the Lady of courtesy for mercy, and praying, “O Love, help thy faithful servant,” I fell asleep like a battered, sobbing child. 

It came to pass that rather toward the middle of my sleep I seemed to see a youth dressed in whitest raiment, sitting alongside me in my room, who by appearance seemed absorbed in deep thought as he regarded me where I lay; and when he had observed me for some time, it seemed that he sighed and called my name and spoke these words, My son, it is time to abandon our pretense. It seemed then that I knew him, because he called on me in the same fashion as he had called on me before at other times in my sleep; and regarding him, it seemed to me that he wept pitifully and awaited some word from me; wherefore, gaining assurance, I began accordingly to speak with him: Lord of nobility, why do you weep? 

And he responded with these words: I am like the center of a circle, to which all points of circumference are equidistant; you, however, are not so. Pondering these words, it seemed to me that he had spoken quite obscurely, so that I ventured again to speak: What is this, Lord, that you relate to me so obliquely? To which he responded in the vernacular dialect: Do not require more than is useful to you.  Therefore, I began to discuss with him the salutation, which had been denied me, and I asked of him the reason, to which he replied in this manner: Our Beatrice heard from certain people speaking of you that the woman I had named for you on the path of sighs had received of you some offense; and because this most gentle lady is contrary to all offense, she did not, for fear of a similar affront, consent to greet you.  Wherefore, seeing that she has truly known somewhat of your secret for some time now, I desire that you declare by rhyme certain words in which you convey the power that I have over you because of her and how you were hers at once from your boyhood. And on this point, you may call as a witness he who knows it, and ask him to speak to her on your behalf, and I, who am he, will freely reason with her; through this she will sense your good will, by which she will then know that the report of you was ill-informed. Make these words, as it were, those of an intercessor to avoid addressing her directly, which would be undignified; and do not send them away where they might be heard by her without me, but dress them with a pleasant harmony within which I will intermingle whenever occasion requires. 

Having spoken these words, he vanished, and my sleep was broken. Upon reflection, I found that this vision had appeared to me during the ninth hour of the day; and before I left my chamber, I proposed to write a song, in which I would obey what my lord had required. I then wrote this song, which begins: My Song, I would.

My Song, I would that you should seek out Love
and with him straightway to our Lady speed,
that my defense you might with singing plead,
and with Love’s reasoning, might likewise prove.


So graciously, my Song, you move at will
that without company
you nonetheless might venture any place,
but if you wish to go more safely still,
seek first Love’s harmony —
the best, perhaps, to travel with his grace —
because the Lady whom you then must face
is, I believe, toward me most ill-disposed,
and if your words without him were composed,
she would, no doubt, quite subtly disapprove.


As you and Love with honeyed sound proceed,
these words you may commence,
though not before you ask her for her grace:
“My Lady, he that sends me on to plead,
so please you, his defense,
desires that you allow my words some place.
Love, too, stands by, who through your lovely face
has power to sink at will this man’s demeanor.
Wherefore, though Love might make him eye another,
know this, from you his heart will never rove."


Say further, “Lady, his heart has always favored
you alone, with such devotion
his only thought is how to serve your need;
his heart was early yours and has not wavered.”
But if she trust no such notion
bid her ask Love, who knows the truth, indeed,
and then extend a humble prayer, and plead
to pardon all offense he might have given.
Should she, instead, require that I be driven
to my death, her servant still, and good, I’d prove.


Before you leave the Lady’s presence, say this
to him who pleads my case
and holds the key of all sympathy as well:
“By virtue of my lovely music’s bliss,
remain with her and grace
the hour with your pleading as you will;
and if she grant him pardon, have her tell
the news, if only by her look of peace.
My Gentle Song , take leave now,as you please;
to my defense and to your honor move.

This song is divided into three parts: in the first I tell it where to proceed and reassure it so that it might proceed more confidently, and I advise in whose company it should travel, if it wishes to go confidently still and without danger; in the second I say that which the song is required to relate; in the third I give it license to proceed at will, recommending its journey to the arms of fortune. The second part begins:  As you and Love with honeyed sound; the third begins: My Gentle Song. 

[D. Talley Translation]

The apostle Paul suggested there was a more excellent way to love in the concept of charity, a kind of love that is not a “crooked thing” at all. This is the frame of mind and heart which is Christ-like, which suffers long and is kind, which does not vaunt itself or seek its own advantage, which is not easily provoked and which thinks no evil. This, too, was the mind and heart of Dante throughout the Vita Nuova and in the eleventh segment particularly: I swear that when she appeared by the way, for the hope I had of her miraculous greeting, none remained my enemy, but rather a flame of charity so kindled within me that any who had ever offended me I felt to pardon….

Why is it after the passage of centuries we are still drawn to Dante? Because the voice he raised in his time is so needed in our own. His absolute clarity in an age of moral ambiguity and relativism.  His denunciation of materialism in an age saturated with Mammon. His passionate faithfulness to the idea of ideal love in an age hardened by cynicism. His integrity in cutting a path to God that serves as a touchstone for a godless age. He brings us to the center of the mystery itself, which is Love, where all points of circumference are equidistant, where the two are made one, and where the course of God is one eternal round.