Touring the Gates of Hell

Last post, I mentioned Dante. One can’t help but be influenced by Dante who is, after all, the originator (or at least codifier) of most of our conceptions of hell, purgatory, and — to a lesser extent — paradise. His influence extended throughout all the arts, including sculptures such as the massive bronze doors, The Gates of Hell.

August Rodin spent 37 years working on the models and the plaster for the bronze doors. It was a piece commissioned in 1880 but not cast in bronze until much later. (The plan for where it was to be installed fell through.) Rodin was inspired by Dante’s hell. However, over time, Rodin’s own vision took shape. In the end, the sculpture is not a faithful reproduction of Dante’s Inferno. (Sorry, you can’t visit the sculpture instead of reading the book.)

This is art as a jumping off point–Dante being a jumping off point for nearly every representation of a Christian hell, whether the inspiration is fully realized or not.

In addition to creating The Gates of Hell, Rodin enlarged many of the individual models and cast them as separate sculptures. In this way he created many of his famous works, such as the Thinker.

If you want to see The Gates of Hell in the U.S., the place to go is the B. Gerald Cantor Rodin Sculpture Garden on the campus of Stanford University. If you can’t go in person, you can also take a look online. But the sculpture garden is well worth the effort of a trip.

Touring the Gates of Hell with Steve Jobs

Here one must leave behind all hesitation;
here every cowardice must meet its death.
–Dante, Inferno, translation by Allen Mandelbaum

Without disgrace, without praise, never singled out;
the many dead-while-alive slog greenly through their days,
cowardice covered by words like comfortable, unscorched,
neither living on Earth nor dead below it. Steve said

"Death is the destination we all share," proclaiming
himself cured of the pancreatic cancer that killed him
a couple years later. Visionary, wallflower, centurion, clerk—
all see the posting at the Gates of Hell. Just their reactions

differ, their fusion states mixed with spent grounds,
desires and duties dragging electrons apart. For each that rises
above his orbit by will and determination, five are doomed
to stings reserved for those who did not dare.

All seasoned travelers recall the sign.
Good for the Gates and good for the Living.