Dante's Nine Circles of Hell: Updated for the 21st Century
Limbo, Lust, Fraud, Oh My!
The real problem of humanity is the following: We have Paleolithic emotions, medieval institutions and godlike technology. And it is terrifically dangerous, and it is now approaching a point of crisis overall. ―Edward O. Wilson
A man who has not passed through the inferno of his passions has never overcome them. —Carl Jung
The Guide and I into that hidden road
Now entered, to return to the bright world;
And without care of having any rest
We mounted up, he first and I the second,
Till I beheld through a round aperture
Some of the beauteous things that Heaven doth bear;
Thence we came forth to rebehold the stars.
—Dante Alighieri (trans. Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)
Above: Dante peering into the Inferno of the Information Age.
Despite its name, The Divine Comedy is no laughing matter.
The work of Italian Poet Dante Alighieri, its 14,233 lines are masterful in their lyricism—not one of its ninety-nine cantos contains a false note.
The narrative poem spans three sweeping parts: Inferno (Hell), Purgatorio (Purgatory), and Paradiso (Paradise). To this day, it remains one of the greatest works of world literature.
Much like John Milton’s Paradise Lost, Dante’s examination of Hell in Inferno is much more detailed and insightful than his treatment of Heaven in Paradiso. What this says about us as humans, Lord only knows (literally and figuratively)…
Nevertheless, the first canto opens with:
Nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita | Midway upon the journey of our life
mi ritrovai per una selva oscura | I found myself within a forest dark,
ché la diritta via era smarrita... | For the straightforward pathway had been lost…
Io non so ben ridir com’i’ v’intrai, | I cannot well repeat how there I entered,
tant’era pien di sonno a quel punto | So full was I of slumber at the moment
che la verace via abbandonai. | In which I had abandoned the true way.
Rereading these lines reminded me of the minutes, hours, days lost to the black mirrors of screens large and small.
Scrolling and swiping, texting and TikToking, we collectively enter “dark forests” in which we “lose the straightforward path” by texting instead of talking and making memes instead of memories.
Such are our modern tools of mass distraction. Much like their cousins—weapons of mass destruction—these platforms promulgate lies used to justify the bad behavior of tired creatures and lonely ghosts the world over. It is a slow death by a thousand clicks versus an instantaneous envelopment by mushroom cloud.
An aphorism reads “As above, so below.”
Inspired by the technological hellscape in which we find ourselves, below is a refreshed imagining of Dante’s Nine Circles of Hell:
Limbo: Where those poor souls who never knew wifi reside—for whom dial-up was dogma and AOL adequate.
Lust: Those who pay too much heed to hormones will eternally swipe on Tinder sans match—surrounded by thirst traps, never to drink.
Gluttony: Those saddled with lard will “eat” Soylent—that viscose, plaster-like sludge—until the end of time; forever bloated but never full.
Greed: Those devoted to dollars will foot every communal bill—endlessly requesting repayment via Venmo to no avail. They shall outlay everything and recoup nothing.
Anger: Those inflamed by indignation will rage on social media to deafening silence—vigorously posting to an echo chamber of one.
Heresy: Those hostile hypocrites will be continuously cancelled by that fickle place of (in)justice: the court of public opinion—forever overflowing with opinions that have no outlet.
Violence: Those who seek out virality will spend infinity in search of it—from Tide Challenge to Full Frontal Face Wax they shall endure distress instead of enjoying dopamine.
Fraud: Those charlatans tempted to trick will sell stultifying online courses—in lieu of unwitting buyers they will find unwilling scholars who undermine their snake oil schemes with deep knowledge that exposes their superficial subterfuge.
Treachery: Those who adore Android will live in Google’s green hell—condemned to snot-colored text bubbles which are always sent but never received.
Dante paints a chilling picture when describing Hell’s very Center. Two modern, ungodly sights forewarn where we might end up if we’re not careful:
Take Heed All Ye Who Read These Words lest Dante (let alone the Divine) look on in disdain.
Per my about page, White Noise is a work of experimentation. I view it as a sort of thinking aloud, a stress testing of my nascent ideas. Through it, I hope to sharpen my opinions against the whetstone of other people’s feedback, commentary, and input.
If you want to discuss any of the ideas or musings mentioned above or have any books, papers, or links that you think would be interesting to share on a future edition of White Noise, please reach out to me by replying to this email or following me on Twitter.
With sincere gratitude,
Tom
I love this so much, Tom.
Trouble at Mill!