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The Figure of Beatrice: A Study in Dante

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This is a classic study of Dante's _Divine Comedy_, by Charles Williams, who was, among other things, a close friend and colleague of J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis. If one wants a solid critical interpretation of Dante's masterpiece from the neo-Romantic (and commitedly Christian) perspective of mid-century Oxford medievalist scholars, there is no better book. It's clearly written by a fellow who knows his stuff-- and it has been a major influence on how others (especially other Oxfordian Christians) have viewed the Commedia. (Those folks familiar with Dorothy Sayers' translations of Dante know that all of her notes and comments are pretty much cribbed wholesale from Williams...) Still, this book was written a half-century ago, and many of its assumptions, approaches, and insights seem a bit old-fashioned-- and there are a lot of new perspectives and questions in Dante scholarship that it just doesn't discuss at all. Nevertheless, it remains an insightful study that offers astute insight into Dante's art, and though dated in some ways, it is by no means outdated.

Ben Sem, Ben Sem--We are, We are Beatrice. Not knowing or understanding much of Dante, I can nevertheless not forget what Charles Williams wrote about him, as about the above quotation from The Divine Comedy. Dante's heaven-sent guide announces "we are," not "I am Beatrice," speaking in unity with the Cloud of Witnesses, the testimony of the saints and out of the relationship of the divine life which is realized in heaven.

But Williams could almost say "We are Charles Williams," because he somehow seems to be such a kindred soul with Dante, and so attuned to the poet's thought that the effect of hearing or reading him on Dante was and is magnetic--so much so that Dorothy L. Sayers taught herself Italian and translated Dante's Divine Comedy in three volumes for Penguin Books (the Paradiso was completed by her student, Barbara Reynolds). Sayers dedicated her translations to "Charles Williams, The Master of the Ways." The Ways referred to are the way of rejection and the way of affirmation, two sorts of spiritual paths explained in this, and many other Williams volumes.

But she was not the only one to so lionize CW. C.S.Lewis wrote similarly in his Preface to Paradise Lost that Williams had revolutionized Milton criticism. Apparently the door was unlocked all the time, Lewis wryly notes, but only you (CW) thought of trying the handle. Who else did this supposedly obscure and unremarkable British writer influence? How about Canadian poet and singer Bruce Cockburn in his albums Dancing in the Dragon Jaws and Humans (the latter often considered one of his best albums)?

If Charles Williams did have a fault as a writer, it was that he tended to write too telegraphically, almost in a kind of shorthand, assuming his readers were with him when some of them, at least, would be lost. This happens in The Forgiveness of Sins, which assumes a good grasp of Shakespeare, and He Came Down From Heaven, which assumes a good grasp on everything else. Some of his essays do this also, particularly his book reviews, which assume that in reading the review one has also read the book. His reviews of some writers, however, such as D.H. Lawrence, and for that matter, St. Augustine, are so lively and unforgettable that they have long outlived their time. Of his nonfiction works, The Descent of the Dove (subtitled a History of the Holy Spirit in the Church) and The Figure of Beatrice flow the best and assume the least. Oddly enough, you can read the latter knowing nothing about Dante and the former knowing nothing about the Holy Spirit and learn a lot about both. Better yet, you learn a lot about Williams. Once one has met him, his trademark style is unmistakeable and for readers like me who have fallen under his spell, greatly compelling. There is no other writer like Charles WIlliams and no better place to meet him than in The Figure of Beatrice.