Francesca has been a subject of fierce debate in literary history. By the mid-nineteenth century, she's been turned into an almost Byronic hero.
Maybe the truth of the matter is that she's bigger than her sin. Not in a "Romantic heroine" sort of way. Maybe she escapes the poet who gives her a voice.
Join me, Mark Scarbrough, as I explore Francesca's speech in Canto V of Dante's INFERNO. Maybe Francesca does the ultimate that a character can do: she pulls the curtain back to reveal her creator, standing there in all his ambivalence and unfulfilled desire.
In this episode, I'll build a case for Francesca and explain how perhaps she does truly escape her damnation as she escapes the very text that imprisons her.
Here are the segments of this episode:
[01:00] The reasons why there should be a case for and against her.
[02:24] My English translation of the passage from INFERNO: Canto V, lines 88 - 142. If you want to see this translation, it's on my website: markscarbrough.com.
[05:17] An admission: the case for Francesca is really the case against Dante-the-pot.
[06:33] Is she really a flatterer? Or is she more of a poet?
[10:41] Her hymn to love. Yes, it slips the definitions between lust and love. But she's only doing what Virgil and Dante have already done.
[15:18] Francesca calls the poet on his game. Her speech is so difficult, so overwhelming, that she reveals that he still turns to classical literature, not theological literature, for the answers to the questions of human motivation and purpose.
[19:07] Francesca is a reader! Surely this must actually be a mark in her favor. She's the very thing the poet wants.
[20:20] Paolo kissed her "trembling all over." It's a clue. It's an echo from Dante's reaction to Beatrice in the VITA NUOVA.
[24:27] The final problem: Francesca does with Paolo what Dante-the-poet never did with Beatrice. The passage ends with desire fulfilled. And the pilgrim faints--and maybe the poet, too.
[25:50] The incredible scope of Canto V: from the sure judge Minos to Francesca's long passage of (perhaps) ambiguity and (perhaps) deep irony.