Postcards from Underground

From the recently recovered correspondence between Dante and Virgil

Yo Virg:

What’s up?

Just thought I’d drop you a line to let you know I’m out of the woods, so to speak, back in the human world. Those bastards in Florence aren’t begging me to come home yet (okay, so, they won’t let me in the city at all) but I feel like I’m on the verge of a breakthrough. Time heals all wounds, right?

Had a blast hanging out. It really was like a dream come true for me. Couldn’t have made it through without your excellent sense of direction—and man, Dis wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun without all your Styx puns.

Keep it real, man.

I remain

Your biggest fan,

The D-man

Dante:

Glad to hear you made it out alive. Not much has changed since last we spoke. Last night, Homer and I went downstairs and got a few beers with the demons. As usual, he drank too much and tried to infer that I was a plagiarist. “Just because we use the same source material, doesn’t make me a plagiarist. You didn’t invent the goddamn Trojan War either, you myopic Greek asshole.” He, then, threw an ashtray at my head. We’ve been arguing this point for at least a millennia, and his misguided ire shows no sign of ebbing. It always ends with Homer whining over his bad eyesight and me having to ring up Odysseus for clarification. I swear to God, I would rather spend eternity with the hypocrites then have to spend another night listening to all of Homer’s shit. So to your point about time healing all wounds? Good luck with that. For some people, eternity is not long enough.

I’m flattered by your devotion to my work, but seriously, man, I’m really nothing special in the grand scheme of things. Are you working on anything new? I’d love to see a draft.

How’d things work out with you and Beatrice? Any resolution?

Take Care,

V.

Virg:

You’re too modest, dude. Seriously.

Beatrice was great. Thanks for asking. Paradise was a trip. She kept to a pretty rigorous schedule, but we found the opportunity for some q.t., if you catch my meaning. She looked just as hot as she did the first time I saw her, and I’m looking forward to seeing more of her in the future.

Per your request, I’ve enclosed the first part of this new project I’m working on. I think you’ll recognize the source. Feel free to make any comments, etc.

Still no love from the Florentines. Any advice?

Later,

The D-Man

Dante:

Your manuscript shows promise. I like some of the descriptive passages (the bit about swamp—very nice), but I do have some concerns. First of all, I’m struggling with the meter. I understand you want to maintain an easy to understand, sing-song quality. And I understand your misgivings about Dactylic Hexameter. It is old hat. Even Homer (whom I let take a look at your pages, hope you don’t mind) agrees. However, you might want to stay away from limerick. It is brave, but maybe not the brave you’re after.

Secondly, I understand that you’re still sore on the subject of Florence, but from the sounds of it, the only people in Hell are Florentines. It’s just not credible.

That said, everyone in Limbo is very enthusiastic about your progress. After hearing one of your passages aloud, Aristotle had the big guy downstairs up for a reading. He likes the way you’ve captured the place, though he wonders if you’ve presented him in a sexy enough light. “Evil is seductive,” he says, “and sort of cool. A sad hollowed out Satan is not much of an antihero.” I told him I didn’t think that was your point, and he conceded that you might be under some pressure from upstairs, vis-à-vis Beatrice. So no worries.

Just a thought here: might help your relations with the hometown crew were you not so quick to put them all in Hell.

I’m glad you got some downtime with Beatrice. All work and no play, you know. But Dante, seriously, the first time you saw her she was nine years old. I’m an open-minded man, but nine years old is too young. You are freaking me out.

V.

Virg:

Thanks for the advice. I see your point about the limerick thing. Working on other ideas.

What do you think about haiku?

I’m really not a pedophile; you just would have had to have seen Beatrice at age nine.

Peace,

The D-Man

Dante:

I’m going to take a strong stand against haiku.

Shot in the dark here, but it might be a good idea to lay off the love sonnets to nine-year-olds. Especially nine-year-olds in Florence.

V.