“Or da poggia, or da orza” (Purg. 32): Nautical Deixis in Dante’s Commedia

In Canto 32 of Purgatorio Dante, after waking from a deep sleep of great peace, is witness to an allegorical pageant, or so we interpret it, seven tableaux depicting the vicissitudes of the Church from its founding to 1300. First, the chariot on which Beatrice had ridden is now attacked by the eagle of Jove. e feri T'l carro di tutta sua forza; ond' el piego come nave in fortuna, vinta da l'onda, or da poggia, or da orza. (1) Thus allegory is overlaid with simile. Nautical imagery pervades the Commedia, and this example from near the end of Purgatorio stands in archetectonic balance to the comparison of the giant Antaeus to a toast being raised in Inferno (31.145) and Dante's wonder at the universal form being likened to Neptune's at the sight of the underwater shadow of the first ship in Paradiso (33.96). (2) This may be called preferential Dantean imagery in the sense that the poet is often cast as a mariner and the poem as a ship, of varying proportions and fortunes.. (3) Here, Dante's simile seems to anticipate the words of Peter, since the scene is followed by a voice from heaven saying "O navicella mia, coin mal se' carca!" (v. 129). (4) A typical understanding and translation of this passage is found in Sinclair, who writes: And it struck the car with all its force so that it reeled like a ship in storm driven, now leeward, now windward, by the waves. (5) This phrasing, "now leeward, now windward" (which must reflect an understanding of Dante's phrase as "from windward, from leeward") is retained in one of the most authoritative of modern English translations and reflects commentary in the most respected editions of the poem. (6) Although poggia and orza are defined in Modern Italian as "lato di sottovento di una nave" and "lato di soprovvento di un nave," respectively, Dante's contemporaries did understand the passage thus. (7) Without trying to detail the marine circumstances imagined in such translations and commentaries, where the waves would have to overcome the effects of the wind in order to drive the ship into the wind, it should be noted that Dante's contemporaries viewed the scene rather differently. We have an anonymous commentary on this canto from the decade after its composition and here this early worker in the Dante industry is quite explicit: ... ch'ella piegoe, come piega nave in fortuna di mare, vinta dall'acqua che lla percuote ora da poggia, cioe dalla parte destra, ora da orza, cioe dalla parte sinistra, o e converso: vocaboli sono marinareschi. (8) [... which it struck, as is struck a ship in peril at sea, overwhelmed by the water which struck it now da poggia, that is, from the right side, now da orza, that is, from the left side, or vice versa; this is sailors' vocabulary.] What has occurred in the English translations cited above is the anachronistic imposition of the later semantics of poggia/orza on a text where the terms still referred to port and starboard. It is an evolution in navigational practice, the consequent semantic development of the paired terms, and the etiology of this misunderstanding that this article seeks to address. Orza is the Italian reflex of a common Romance word generally thought to be of Latin origin (see below). One of the earliest attestations is in French romance, in the work Guillaume d'Angleterre, long attributed to Chretien de Troyes but now to an otherwise unknown Chretien, who seems to have tried to borrow on his better known namesake's reputation and a few features of his style in order to promote this work dated to the late twelfth century. The eponymous Guillaume is king of England, but this is a thoroughly romanced England, not the historical one found in Anglo-Norman chroniclers and story-tellers. As a result, we may review the scene of a ship caught in a storm but should not assume a description particularly appropriate to the waters and craft around the British Isles. …