DANTE’S grief eventually muted to the persistent but dull ache that would allow him to get on with the business of living. Sometime in the 1290s, Dante married Gemma Donati, whose family loved and hated him. It is likely that Dante and Gemma had been betrothed for years—a dowry certificate is dated 1277 in an arrangement by their families. Boccaccio can be blamed for the ugly rumor that Gemma could not compare with the beatific Beatrice, and was, in fact, a shrew and about as exciting as a dishrag. Who knows the truth?

Dante was certainly too much the poet to write about such mundane affairs, but Gemma seems to have been wife enough to give birth to a brood of little Alighieris. History is certain of three children, Pietro, Jacopo, and Beatrice, and cocks a knowing eyebrow at Giovanni, who might have arrived sometime before the marriage vows. Whether due to discord at home or a need for something other than intellectual stimulation, Dante, in 1295, decided to fully enter the world of politics.

Politics in thirteenth century Florence (or really in any place at any time) is not the easiest thing to winnow out, and with all the machinations of the incredibly combative Florentines, it is very much like extracting Brer Rabbit from the briar patch. The city government was basically an extension of the Guilds. The “major arts,” as they considered themselves, were the seven Guilds that elected the “priors,” the basic ruling body of Florence. With the “Podesta,” an umpire selected from outside the city, the priors had the difficult job of keeping life in the polis running smoothly, or failing that, from running completely amok.

The Seven Guilds included: the Judges and Notaries, the Wood Importers, the Weavers and Sellers of Domestic Wool, the Bankers and Money Changers, the Silk Merchants, the Physicians and Apothecaries, and the Skinners and Furriers. There were many other Guilds as well—Blacksmiths, Butchers, Shoemakers, Woodworkers, etc.—but none commanded as much lucre as the majors.

The input of the other Guilds was only sought on the biggest questions, when the Council of the Hundred was called.

To get anywhere in politics, one must first join a Guild. Dante surveyed the list, and being an intellectual and a poet didn’t exactly qualify him for most of them, but he somehow decided to join with the Physicians and Apothecaries. His way with words made him an ideal candidate for advancement, and it was only shortly after becoming a Guildman that he was selected as ambassador to San Gimignano to help patch up a small dispute. Other small commissions followed, and Dante proved his skill at statecraft. His future in government for this moment was assured.

1300 was declared a year of Jubilee, and pilgrims who made the trek to Rome were to be granted special dispensations during this Centennial of the Birth of Christ. Dante took up the palmer’s staff and made for the seat of Christendom in time for Easter week. The city filled with devout souls, whose goal it was to reach the Basilica and seek the promised greater ease in the Afterlife. They prayed and took sacraments, but only Dante was visited with a vision, the excessus mentis, the mystical transcendence of the consciousness beyond thought.

Dante was filled with light, one that would dim but never be extinguished, and that would lead him onward throughout the rest of his difficult life. But as there is light, there is also darkness, and in Rome, living in the absolute pit of shadows was the Pope Boniface VIII.

Cardinal Benedetto Gaetani was named successor to the Fisherman’s Throne by Celestine V. This was an unusual move, as the College of Cardinals usually elected the new Pope after the old, but it was not completely without precedent. Many of the voices whispered that the selection was not wholly without coercion and that Gaetani or one of his cohorts had whispered directly in the ailing Celestine’s ear with a misleading angelic assertion that God himself wanted Benedetti’s buns in the big seat.

Benedetto, crowned Boniface, was not exactly the logical choice for God to have made, for he, on many occasions, denied the Divinity’s own existence and insulted many of the basic beliefs of Catholicism. God certainly does work in mysterious ways. What Boniface lacked in religious zeal, he more than made up for in the pursuit of papal power.

For Boniface, the Church was decidedly the center of secular authority, damn the religious implications! Or rather, God must exist if only to assure Boniface of the existence of his papal crown.

Boniface was not shy about his pursuits, and his expedient pacts with other rulers were famous for their callous disregard of anything but the solidification of his own rule. His two most important papal bulls had exactly the same effect: the “Clerics Laicos” forbade any government to levy taxes against the clergy, and the “Unam Sanctam” unified all Christendom under the Pope’s aegis. Dear Boniface, but for his emperor’s new clothes, was naked in the face of the world.

Dante grew increasingly worried about Boniface’s rapacious papacy and its plans for Florence. As the Pope sought more and more temporal power, Dante feared not only for the soul of Christendom but for the specific spirit of Florence. Dante returned from the Jubilee with his head suffused in light, but not so bright that he could not discern its shadows.

In April 1300, Dante was elected a Prior of Florence and if ever an election brought ambiguity to a man’s life, it did so for Dante. Ever the cauldron, Florence boiled over. The Guelph factions of Black (Pro-Papists) and White (Pro-Emperor) heated the brew with a family vendetta, and watched or not, the bubbles weren’t about to stop.

Corso Donati, arrogant champion of the Battle of Campaldino, was in negotiation with the Pope to bring the city under his control. The Cerchi family, staunch allies of Dante’s friends, the Cavalcantis, wanted no strings being pulled in Rome to make them dance the tarantella, but on May Day the tarantula started the dance anyway. Both families were gathered to watch the spring festivities, and what began so innocently with a dainty skip amongst the flowers, ended with poor Ricoverino de’ Cerchi without a nose on his face.

Unfortunately, armed boys will be boys, and when a Donati takes a Cerchi nose, well, you can imagine.

With trouble in the streets escalating, Donati tried to push through a subsidy for Charles II of Naples (the Pope’s fair-haired boy) in the Priorate. “No way,” the Priors voted. Maybe a little more blood in the streets would help. Finally in spring of 1301, something short of an all-out civil war was nearing. Toot-toodle-to, Dante to the rescue!

Dante had risen through the ranks of the Priorate, being re-elected and then named Commissioner of Public Works. He was instrumental in calling the Council of One Hundred together in April. He succeeded in finding a solution to their immediate problem by making the streets safe. With the force of his righteous arguments, the Council voted to turn out the rascals: banishment for all those involved in the ongoing fracas.

It was a valiant and fair-minded stance on Dante’s part, but it inflamed his enemies and alienated his friends. Among the exiles were foes like Corso Donati and beloved compatriots like Guido Cavalcanti (who would die before his return). In staking out the moral high ground, Dante would soon discover that ground exists only in rhetoric, and one who attempts to stand firm upon it will find his toes dangling in the air.

Rome was demanding an embassy. No one was better suited than Dante, the committed White to go beak to beak with Boniface, but of course, going means the Black faction will certainly play. Dante went off to Rome in October. While under the Pope’s capacious thumb, he could only observe the entry of Charles II of Naples into Florence from afar. The Black faction and the seven Priors were victorious, and in January, Dante was banished from the city for two years and permanently excluded from office. Yet, the Priors decided that wasn’t bad enough. In March, Dante was exiled from Florence forever on pain of death. His journey had begun.