Sure, Let's Do This One More Time

Good Friday 2024 is (checks calendar frantically) this Friday! - so let's talk about some things

Hello all,

Flynn here. As previously stated, if you were here from the beginning, congratulations on making it to the end! What a journey it’s been. I hope you’ve taken a minute to reflect on how much you’ve changed since we started, way back in April 2023. I also hope that you enjoyed Longfellow’s six sonnets on the Comedy. If you’re relatively new, we’re glad you joined when you did, and we hope you stay a spell.

If you’re not interested in going the rounds again, you’ll probably want to stop here and unsubscribe at your leisure. If you are interested in a second round, you brave little literary soul, you, or if this will be your first round, then by all means, keep reading.

Back in January, I said that I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to do this again. My circumstances are not quite as dire now as they were then, but they are still very bad, to be frank, and offer no guarantee of stability. With that said, having my cantos sent to me twice a week every week was one of the only constants I had in some very bleak times, and I realized this whole project means a lot to me. (And, as many of you told me, it means a lot to you, too. Thank you for those notes. I didn’t get to respond to most of them, but they were appreciated.) So we’re going to try to do this again. I might fall behind, and I might forget a canto on occasion or mess up a date, but I’ll do my best.

Several months ago, I had been wondering if I would be able to find and format another translation of the Comedy for round two. The answer is now decidedly no. The only reason I’ll have the time to do this again is because I’ll copy my posts from the last time around - same text, same translation. Same schedule, too - start on Good Friday, then you’ll get a canto every Tuesday and Thursday. Here’s a refresher from my past housekeeping posts:

We’ll still be using Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s translation. I chose this one for a few reasons. It’s in the public domain, of course. It’s considered a more accessible translation, so first-time readers can follow it more easily. The text is easily found on Project Gutenberg. In addition, LibriVox has audio recordings of every canto being read.

With that said, I personally intend to read along from my personal copy of John Ciardi’s text. If you would like to obtain your own, here is a link to it on Bookshop (an Amazon alternative supporting independent bookstores). If you’re more experienced and would like to read from another translation - or even a version in Italian - please, by all means, go right ahead! There are dozens of translations, and many people have voiced their opinions on the best starting points. (If you’re here from round two, maybe you want to read from a different translation this round?)

For those who are returning: Perhaps you are wondering about reading another translation on your own if it is your second go. I certainly encourage the curious. Longfellow’s translation is a good starter, but it is not as poetic as others (such as Ciardi’s). I’ve heard promising things about Mandelbaum, Hollander, Sayers, and Durling/Martinez, but can’t speak to any of them myself - Ciardi is my gold standard, and I’ll probably read out of my old tome again. There is also something to be said about reading the same text again, and having plenty left to learn from it.

Those returning to the Comedy may be familiar with the structure you’ll find in reading, but for those who are new, each Canto comes with its own set of footnotes and annotations. Each edition has its own set of notes, and the accompanying notes to Longfellow’s translations (very gratefully from Wikisource) will be included at the end of each email I send out. The numbers on them correspond to line numbers, and every fifth line will be numbered in the posts I send out. It’s also relatively easy to look up things you aren’t sure about. Some of the notes are helpful, others are… well, more intense and precise ramblings. Use them as you will.

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The rest of this post will be a self-indulgent soliloquy, and a rather personal one at that.

When I started this project, I naïvely wondered how much I’d change in the roughly 11 months of its running. I couldn’t begin to fathom how different things would be. I had two alive parents last April; I now have one dead parent and one alive parent, who is incarcerated for the foreseeable future. I had gotten my then-dream job, which I sacrificed only months after starting it to handle personal affairs and take care of my family in the wake of tragedy. I’ve dealt with other loss and struggle that I don’t even want to get into here. Let’s just say this: Reading the Paradiso in times like that honestly felt like some fresh bullshit.

All the same, I did it, without fail. Even when I had to get a loved one cremated for the first time, even when I had to file for guardianships, even when I had to make even more phone calls to lawyers and prosecutors and financial advisors and tax people and biohazard cleaners. Even, even, even. I was already traumatized, and now I think I’ve leveled up a few trauma stages (is that a thing? it is now. i’m getting a good grade at it).

I’m not going to pretend I did it mindfully, mind you. Most days, it was a feat if I read the words on the page with a sort of emotion. I’m sure I could barely tell you one of Dante’s biggest revelations in Paradise. But, then, he grew and learned and taught on his own timeline that he quite literally constructed for himself, and he’ll be here when we’re ready for him. Sometimes we don’t know we’re ready until we’re there. (Sometimes we have no choice but to become ready when we’re thrust into it. I’ve been directed by a friend to Campbell’s Hero’s Journey as a way of understanding my tumult and chaos. I relate to some of it, but mostly I feel like I’m just some guy. Then again - maybe every hero does?)

If you made it to the end, good on you, but if you didn’t? If life got in the way? Well, hey. You’ll find no judgment here, only understanding and empathy. I’m glad you were here when you did, and I hope you join us again if you want, but I also understand if it’s your time to bow out. Even Virgil didn’t stay with us the entire time. (Spoiler alert?)

Whatever you do, or don’t do, be well, and make time for what matters to you. I assure you it can be done. It’s arguably our most painstaking necessity in this mortal coil.

Also… be kind to one another, and be honest with one another. It’s the least that we can do for each other. I’m not going to say it’s easy. If you’re being honest with yourself and aligning to a moral code, it might be painstakingly hard. But it is human.

With my heartfelt gratitude,

Flynn