Inferno II: Hesitations and the Power of Language

In this canto, Dante reveals deep hesitation about continuing his journey. Despite Virgilio’s prior assurance that he would serve as Dante’s guide and lead him to Paradise, Dante once again feels insecure. The comparison with Ulysses is especially present here: Ulysses is the archetype of transgression for Dante. He is the one who goes too far, who relies too heavily on human reason and initiative, and therefore fails. Dante’s recurring self-comparison to Ulysses is what causes him to pause and doubt before moving forward.

The beginning of the voyage is once again interrupted in this atypical canto: atypical because there is no action, no movement, and no encounters. Instead, we witness how Dante’s fears transform into hesitations.

The lines “I, the only one / Made myself ready to sustain the war” (vv. 3–4) emphasize Dante’s individuality and his resolve to undertake this journey. The poetic “I” signals that the protagonist is both a lyric and romantic individual, as well as an epic poet engaged with the history and culture of his people.

Another classical reference appears in line 7: “O Muses, O high genius, now assist me!” As a Christian author, Dante invokes the Greek Muses as an acknowledgment of the heroism involved in such an undertaking. Additionally, this passage marks a structural point: in classical literature (e.g., Theogony), the invocation of the Muses typically appears at the beginning of the poem. That Dante includes this invocation in Canto II suggests that Inferno I serves as a kind of prologue.

Immediately after this invocation, Dante voices his doubts by questioning whether he is truly fit for the journey: “Poet, who guidest me, / Regard my manhood, if it be sufficient, / Ere to the arduous pass thou dost confide me.” He is uncertain of his worthiness, not only to traverse the afterlife, but more importantly, to reach Paradise.

In lines 13–15, there is a reference to Aeneas’s journey to the underworld in Virgil’s Aeneid: “Thou sayest, that of Silvius the parent, / While yet corruptible, unto the world / Immortal went, and was there bodily.” Aeneas’s journey is justified because he is the founder of Rome, which will become the seat of the papacy.

Yet Dante deepens his insecurity by contrasting himself again with Aeneas and adding a Christian figure: “But I, why thither come, or who concedes it? / I not Aeneas am, I am not Paul, / Nor I, nor others, think me worthy of it.” Saint Paul, described as a “chosen vessel” (v. 28), also descended into the afterlife, just as Aeneas did in the pagan tradition (cf. 2 Corinthians).

Dante fears that he is not qualified for such a journey, as he is neither a classical nor a Christian figure who has been divinely sanctioned. He worries that, by attempting such a voyage without legitimacy, he is becoming a transgressor, a second Ulysses: “Therefore, if I resign myself to come, / I fear the coming may be ill-advised.” The term “ill-advised” recalls Ulysses’s recklessness; Dante is aware of the parallel.

Virgilio responds by diagnosing Dante’s fear: “Thy soul attainted is with cowardice, / Which many times a man encumbers so, / It turns him back from honoured enterprise, / As false sight doth a beast, when he is shy.” These emotions are not unique; rather, they are universal setbacks: fears and doubts that prevent humans from achieving what they are truly capable of.

To reassure him, Virgilio recounts how Beatrice came to him: “A fair, saintly Lady called to me / In such wise, I besought her to command me.” Here, we find elements of medieval courtly love: the motif of the lady bestowing a quest upon the hero. Virgilio recounts Beatrice’s words using direct speech.

Beatrice begins: “O spirit courteous of Mantua, / Of whom the fame still in the world endures, / And shall endure, long-lasting as the world.” This tercet reflects Dante’s belief that fame is immortal, even as the body is mortal.

Beatrice tells Virgilio she sought him to help Dante, who was lost. “Love moved me, which compelleth me to speak.” Just as in Canto I, where divine love sets the cosmos in motion, here it is love: Beatrice’s personal love that compels her to act. The universal motion of divine love in Canto I becomes the personal, humanized motion of Beatrice’s love in Canto II. Unlike typical depictions of women in medieval literature, Dante gives Beatrice a voice and agency. She is not a passive statue but a savior, reversing traditional gender roles in the epic.

This canto also emphasizes the power of language. Language is the medium of communication, understanding, and civilization itself. It is what enables action. Without language, we are paralyzed, just as in absurdist plays, where lack of communication results in cyclical, meaningless motion.

There are still traces of medieval courtly love, though displaced: “When I shall be in the presence of my Lord, / Full often will I praise thee unto him.” Beatrice, speaking of God, promises to praise Virgilio. While praise is typical in courtly love, here it is redirected toward the helper, not the beloved.

Beatrice then declares that Hell holds no power over her: “Of those things only should one be afraid / Which have the power of doing others harm; / Of the rest, no; because they are not fearful.”

She further explains that a "gentle Lady in Heaven who grieves" (the Virgin Mary) sent Lucia to Beatrice, who was seated next to Rachel. Lucia informed her about Dante, prompting her, in turn, to seek Virgilio’s help.

Virgilio concludes by questioning why Dante hesitates, given that Heaven itself has willed this journey. This reassures Dante: “And such good courage to my heart there coursed” (v. 131). Beatrice’s words inspire him and rekindle his initial resolve: “Thou hast my heart so with desire disposed / To the adventure, with these words of thine, / That to my first intent I have returned.”

Canto II thus ends in the same manner as Canto I. To compare: the last line of Canto I is “Then he moved on, and I behind him followed,” while Canto II ends with Dante saying: “I entered on the deep and savage way.” In effect, we return to the same point, but with a fundamental shift in internal movement. Despite the absence of outward action, so much has occurred. In this canto, language alone moves the characters, motivates them, and defines their paths. Speech enables action. Without it, there is no journey, no understanding: just circular paralysis.

You may ask: why does Dante use Canto II to delay a journey that seemed poised to begin at the end of Canto I? This canto consists almost entirely of dialogue. There are no physical events, only the ideological foundation of the journey. To summarize: Inferno II opens with Dante voicing his fears about the future and this immense undertaking. After invoking the Muses, he confesses his sense of unworthiness. He contrasts himself with Aeneas and Saint Paul, who are figures he views as divinely chosen. But with Virgilio’s account of Beatrice’s intervention, and the revelation that three celestial Ladies are supporting him, Dante understands that he too has been chosen just like Aeneas and Saint Paul. Therefore, in claiming that he is neither of them, Dante ultimately positions himself as a modern counterpart to both.

Ayda Duru Demirtaş