impeded their freeing themselves from sin. The first of these groups gathers together the excommunicate, who must spend thirtyfold the amount of time that they were excommunicated in punishment for the insubordination that brought about their severance from the Church. Dante, however, gives back with the other hand what he has taken away with the first. We cannot imagine that many prelates would have acceded to the idea that anyone who had died under the ban of excommunication could possibly be saved. And that the first saved soul we meet after Cato of Utica (whose salvation remains a shock to readers even to this day) is that of the excommunicated, lecherous, murderous Manfred reminds us that Dante is not one readily to be swayed by ecclesiastical (or any other) authority. And Manfred is not here alone, but as the leader of a flock of other excommunicated souls, and the Christian image of a flock of sheep (
Purg
. III.79–87) that presents Manfred and his fellows itself stands as a reproof of the certainty of certain churchmen—including popes—in the justness of their judgments. Further, we learn from Manfred himself (at
Purg
. III.140–145) a crucial law of all of purgatory, that prayer from those still alive and in God’s grace may reduce a soul’s time in purgatory. The efficacy of prayer is thus another potential gift bestowed upon reformed sinners.
The second group in ante-purgatory includes all those who were saved despite the belatedness of their repentance. Their period of purgation is thirty times less onerous than that of the excommunicate, a single unit of time for each that they were behindhand on earth, moment for moment, year for year. These souls are themselves divided into three categories: those who were sluggish in their devotion to God; those who died unabsolved; and those who—and the largest group here involves negligent rulers—loved the world too much. Once again Dante is essentially relying on his own authority in the creation of this zone for his poem. And, as though the creation of ante-purgatory were not invention enough, Dante has added another area to purgatory, one even less potentially licensed by the Church, a sort of pre-ante-purgatory alluded to in the second canto. From Casella we learn (
Purg
. II.94–105) that there is a “staging area” somewhere near Ostia, the seaport of Rome, where saved souls gather before they are selected, with some having to wait their turn longer than others, for their journey through the Gates of Hercules across the seas to the huge mountain-island that stands, the highest point on earth, at the antipodes of Jerusalem.
(3)
Purgatory.
The mountain’s seven terraces reflect the tradition of the seven capital vices, also referred to as “mortal sins,” or “deadly sins.” 11 Pride, Envy, Wrath, Sloth, Avarice (and, in at least one case, Prodigality), Gluttony, Lust: these supply the seven terraces with their crowds. All terraces include the following features, mainly in the same order, as though part of a liturgical ritual for this churchlike place: (1) description of the physical aspect of the terrace, (2) exemplars of the virtue that counters the sin repented here, (3) description of the penitents, (4) recitation of their sins by particular penitents, (5) exemplars of the vice, (6) appearance to Dante of the angel representing the countering virtue. However, not only are there some subtle shifts and changes in the ordering of these elements, but there seems to be an individuated program of involvement for the protagonist. On four of the terraces he is untouched by the physical elements of penitence: he observes the envious, the slothful, the avaricious, and the gluttons without feeling their pain directly. However, among the prideful he himself bends down alongside them, thereby experiencing some of their condition; the smoke of Wrath stings his eyes, not only those of the penitents; and the flames of Lust burn him. Are we to understand
Dorothy L. Sayers, Jill Paton Walsh