Portrait of Joyce & Dante

The next instalment in my worthy if irregular blog is a look at the links between James Joyce and the Italian poet Dante (whose imaginary descent into hell known as Inferno is a topic already covered here). This week’s blog was inspired by my recent reading of Joyce’s early novel, A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, known by the German word künstlerroman, a novel about an artist's growth to maturity. Such novels often portray the struggles of a sensitive youth against the values of contemporary bourgeois society. In Joyce’s case, there is no doubt that Dante had a formative influence on his young mind; Joyce was familiar with Dante’s work from a young age, and also went on to study French and Italian (the same course I chose) at University College Dublin. Below I will outline some areas that unite these two great writers, and also look to what divides them.

An obvious link to Dante in the novel is the character of Dante herself, a fervent and piously Catholic governess of the Dedalus children. At the very beginning of Portrait, Dante (real name Mrs. Riordan) threatens the novel’s main character, Stephen Dedalus, with eagles that will come and pull out his eyes unless he repents. In another early scene, Dante becomes involved in a long and bitter argument with Mr. Casey about Irish nationalist Parnell over Christmas dinner, screaming, “God and religion before everything! God and religion before the world!”

Dante’s name applied to Mrs Riordan reminds me of Inferno, especially the fire and brimstone element of Catholicism, and in Portrait she seems to represent fanaticism in the name of “God and religion”. Although “Dante” was probably just a childish mispronunciation of Auntie, Joyce clearly intended this echo of the great Italian poet, although I’m sure he didn’t consider Dante to be such a fanatic himself. In fact, Joyce’s only direct mention of Dante the Poet in the novel is actually comic, when at the end of Portrait he refers to him as the inventor of the "spiritual-heroic refrigerating apparatus", otherwise known as platonic love.

Another key similarity is that both are heavily involved in the politics of their time, with Dante a partisan supporter of the Guelphs in Renaissance Florence whose support for the Pope was opposed by the Ghibellines, while Joyce was a supporter of Irish nationalism against the British colonial government. In Portrait, despite his desire to steer clear of politics, Joyce’s alter ego Stephen constantly ponders Ireland's place in the world. He concludes that the Irish have always been a subservient people, allowing outsiders to control them. In one scene, he realises that even the language of the Irish people is foreign. Stephen's perception of Ireland's subservience has two effects on his artistic development. Primarily, it makes him determined to escape the bonds that his Irish ancestors felt forced to accept. Second, Stephen's perception makes him determined to use his art to reclaim autonomy for Ireland. Using the borrowed language of English, he plans to write in a style that will be both individual and true to the Irish people.

And this is a third connection; both Joyce and Dante seek to create a new language, and both are masters of wordplay and psychological authenticity. Dante was the standard of excellence to which many modernist poets aspired, including Ezra Pound and T.S. Eliot. In an essay written by Samuel Beckett, he says that Joyce was tired of the “worn out and threadbare” conventions of the literary language of his time. In the same way, both Dante and Joyce reject the universal languages (Latin and English) that dominate in their time, in favour of the eloquence of a new vernacular. Joyce’s modernism is also a rebellion against the “static” nature of contemporary literature, while both had an obsession with the new, and a desire to say what had not been said before; in this way, both created a new aesthetic.

A fourth similarity is Dante’s love of Beatrice and that of Stephen (Joyce) for Emma in Portrait. As in Dante’s early novel, La Vita Nuova (The New Life), in which he perfected his new Tuscan dialect, the main character develops an obsessive love for Beatrice, so in Portrait Stephen become besotted with Emma. Emma appears only in glimpses throughout most of Stephen's young life, and he never gets to know her as a person. Instead, she becomes a symbol of pure love, untainted by sexuality or reality, much like Dante’s unconsummated love for Beatrice. Stephen worships Emma as the ideal of feminine purity and, when he goes through his devoutly religious phase, he imagines his reward for his piety as a union with Emma in heaven. However, while Dante remains obsessed with Beatrice until his death and finds a place for her in paradise, Stephen reveals in his diary near the end of Portrait that when he did finally meet Emma, he found her to be an ordinary girl. In this way, Joyce differs from Dante in rejecting the extremes of obsessive love.

An obvious fifth connection is that both Dante and Joyce are Catholics, however both Joyce (and Stephen) reject religion and embrace modernism. Brought up in a devout Catholic family, Stephen initially ascribes to an unswerving belief in church morality. As a teenager, this belief makes him waver between two opposite extremes, both damaging. Initially, he falls into the extreme of sin by sleeping with prostitutes, even though he’s aware that his act is in violation of church rules. Later, when Father Arnall's speech calls him back to Catholicism, he swings to the other extreme, becoming a fanatical model of religious devotion. Finally, though, Stephen realises that both lifestyles are extremes that are eventually harmful. Stephen ultimately reaches a decision to embrace life and love after seeing a young girl wading at a beach. To him, the girl is symbolic of pure goodness and of life lived to the fullest.

A final, sixth link is that Dante and Joyce were both expatriates from their (Tuscan and Irish) homes, even though the latter’s exile was self-imposed. In the same way that Joyce could only stay separate from the Church by completely cutting himself off from all religious practice, not even kneeling in prayer at his mother’s death bed, he also could only escape the pull of the nationalist cause by leaving the country forever. The birds that appear to Stephen in the final chapter of Portrait signal that it is finally time for him, now fully formed as an artist, to take flight himself. And when he’s finally away from the Catholic Church and Ireland, Joyce sets about obsessively recreating them in his imagination. That odyssey Joyce called Ulysses, while Dante called his spiritual journey the Divine Comedy.

Comments