Sending Your Enemies to Rot in Hell for Fun and Profit

So I'm reading The Inferno right now and I can't think of a better way to kick off a summer in Memphis. It's May 11 and we're already pushing 90 degrees, with a humidity factor of...well...too damn high anyway. To be accurate, there isn't nearly as much fire in the Inferno as one might expect. So far Hell's only had gale-force winds, chilly rain (which falls forever on the gluttonous) and stinking bogs full up with sinners. Fun!

Some people think Dante was an egomaniac, which is understandable considering that he pretty much comes out of the gate saying he's the greatest poet ever, the successor of Homer and Virgil, and a man for whom God is bending the rules of the universe. Far from being turned off, I'm awed. I mean, check out the balls on this guy. In modern parlance he's basically grabbing his crotch, throwing the goat, and shrieking "I'm motherfuckin' Dante, Bitches, whooooo!" Considering what the man had been through (exile, accusations of treason, the loss of family and friends and his nice cushy political career) he'd have to be an egomaniac just to keep going. And how therapeutic must it have been to write the Divine Comedy? Living well might be the best revenge, but if you can't live well then you can always write a long poem in which you send your loved ones to heaven and your enemies to hell, where they rot and fester and have their heads turned around backward so their tears fall down the cracks of their asses.

But Seriously Folks, this IS a good read (the translation I'm using is bad ass, it's by Anthony Esolen and has beautiful engravings by Gustave Dore). Many people are smart enough to not enter into battles they cannot win, and even good readers will shy away from six hundred year old poems. I am pleased to say that Dante's Inferno is in no way the uphill struggle I feared. You see, I recently read Paradise Lost, and while I did eventually get through it, and even enjoy it, and not just in that "hah, another one bites the dust" kind of way, it was the reading equivalent of trench warfare. I lost a leg. Dante's reading difficulty, to extend the battle metaphor, is more like a pillow fight with the elderly: don't worry, you can handle it. Take the appropriate precautions, of course, carry a pocket dictionary, have two bookmarks (one for the end notes, one for your place), and drink a cup of coffee (because coffee is tasty).

And, before my sarcasm runs off with the show, let us not forget to mention how beautiful it is. True, I am reading it in translation, so I cannot grasp the fullness of the poet's intention, but I can respond to the story that is being told. The Inferno, very simply, has a lot to say about love, justice, and the importance of overcoming fear and living well. These are all undying issues, and explain to a great extent why the work has endured.

So anyway. In this, the second installment of BASSD, I have decided to take a que from Dante Alighieri. Ahem: "I'm motherfuckin' Book Guy, bitches. Whoooooo!"

There, if that doesn't keep you reading I don't know what will.