Even a cursory reading of thirteenth and fourteenth century Italian chronicles can be a shocking experience. The frequency and brutality of wars and violent conflicts detailed in the texts stand in sharp contrast to the magnificent cultural and artistic achievements associated with Italian city-states at the time. Italian society c. 1300 was densely populated and violent. Indeed, it is easy to forget that two of the most important and influential figures in medieval and early Renaissance history, Saint Francis of Assisi (1182–1226) and Dante Alighieri (1265–1321), were both combatants in inter-city wars. Dante participated in at least two battles, and Francis was even a prisoner-of-war who spent a significant amount of time in a military prison. Frequent wars and civic conflict in medieval Italy have certainly not escaped the attention of historians. Fifty years ago, for example, Lauro Martines edited a collection of essays entitled, Violence and Civil Disorder in Italian Cities (UCLA Center for Medieval and Renaissance Studies, 1972). More recently, Italian medievalists have exploited the riches of urban archives to publish several studies on the processes of peace-making and conflict resolution in the Italian communes. Yet, issues associated with violence, war, and vendetta, both within and between Italian city-states, still call out for more attention. Brenda Deen Schildgen's book is therefore a major addition to this body of scholarship on violence in Italian medieval history and literature. It lays out persuasively the extent to which Dante the poet, particularly in the Commedia, identified causes of violence and at the same time proposed remedies for their mitigation. The levels of violence examined here in Schildgen's book are domestic, political (or civic), and what the author identifies as redemptive or divine violence.
Schildgen argues that Dante responded to the pervasive violence of his world with repugnance: “I explore how Dante's vision of the eschatological consequences of violence in the home and in society not only condemns its unnatural brutality but also seeks to show that it violates both the natural and civil law of his times” (8). The poet identified self-interest as the principal motivating factor in past and contemporary manifestations of violence. He proposes instead “a utopian theology of love on which to build civic unity” (25). To demonstrate and develop her argument, the author has organized the book into four chapters, framed by an Introduction and a Conclusion. The level of erudition that sustains the argument—not only in the field of Dante studies but also in canon and civil law, theology, the visual arts, philosophy, and political history—is profound and impressive; and in the endnotes, readers will find extensive bibliographies and rich insights. Chapter One (“Freedom, Natural Law, and Love”) argues that on the basis of Dante's understanding of natural, civil, and canon law, the poet asserted (as in Purgatorio 4, 5, 15–17) that humans have a natural freedom to choose and “an innate capacity to love” (35). However, according to Schildgen, Dante acknowledges that some people choose wrongly and use force and coercion in the civic and domestic spheres to deny that freedom to others. The result is that they “corrupt or break natural, civic, and canon laws” (35). Chapter Two (“Violence in the Domestic Sphere in the Commedia”) outlines five case studies of women portrayed in the epic poem who were victimized by domestic violence (Francesca, Pia, Costanza, Piccarda, and Cunizza). The chapter analyzes their situations as portrayed in Inferno 5 (Francesca), Purgatorio 5 (Pia), Paradiso 3–5 (Piccarda and Costanza), and Paradiso 9 (Cunizza). Demonstrating that Dante follows canon law and the theological consensus regarding the role of consent and free choice in marriage, Schildgen argues that the poet thereby manages “to implicitly question patriarchal power in regard to marriages dictated by family need” (55). In other words, Dante condemns in his epic poem a social practice that was diverging significantly from the ecclesiastical understanding of what was right and natural. As Schildgen points out, he consequently places all the women but one either in heaven or on the way there, whereas all the men who were cruel or violent toward these women find themselves in hell.
Chapter 3 (“Killing Fields and the Cross in the Heavens”) takes as its subject Dante's condemnation of civic conflicts and unjust wars, caused by the moral and spiritual failures of their perpetrators. Refusing to follow the traditions of previous war epics and lyric poetry that tended to glorify war, Dante instead identifies some of the main actors behind war violence: Christians against Christians, “papal imperialism, and clerical corruption” (100). No protagonist receives however more scathing criticism than the papacy for its venality (Inferno 27 and Paradiso 27). As critical as Dante is regarding the wars of his own day, as Schildgen observes, he “supports the wars of the Romans based on the just war criteria, claiming their goal was to establish peace” (144). Chapter 4 (“Redemptive Violence: The Cross, Sacrifice, and the ‘Giusta Vendetta’”) focuses on Dante's interpretation of the Crucifixion. Breaking with past theologians who stressed the necessity of the Crucifixion for human salvation, Dante emphasizes instead in Paradiso 7 the centrality of “divine freedom and love as the prompts for human salvation” (159). Dante embraces the image of the triumphant, crucified Christ (Christus triumphans) instead of the suffering Christ (the Christus patiens), a tradition especially popular in the early fourteenth century among Dominicans and Franciscans.
The book does prompt a couple of minor questions. Could the author's portrayal of Dante as a critic of patriarchal power regarding arranged marriages be somewhat overstated in Chapter 2? Is Dante actually critical of patriarchy itself, or is he condemning instead those men who have abused that power? Is the word “Cosmic” really the most appropriate word for the book title? Why not “Redemptive,” as used in the title of Chapter 4? These questions aside, this book is essential and fundamental reading not only for Dantists but also for anyone who is curious about the role of violence in late medieval Italian society and culture.