Kanye’s Inferno

[Below is an unedited essay written for a graduate seminar on Chaucer and the major Italian poets. It was approached with a certain giddiness that eventually transformed into something a bit more serious. Admittedly, there are a number of problems with the essay as it exists in its current form; these likely exist as some combination of grammatical and logical.]

Still from Kanye West's

Still from Kanye West’s “Power” video.

Lost in the Woods: Kanye West’s Nods to Dante and Boccaccio

Lost in a Dark Wood

Hip hop artist Kanye West recruits American indie folk singer-songwriter Justin Vernon and his song, “The Woods,” to serve as the foundation of the penultimate track, “Lost in the World,” on the polarizing rapper’s critically-acclaimed 2010 album, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. On the track, Vernon sings, later joined by West, “I’m up in the woods / I’m down on my mind / I’m building a still / to slow down the time.” By making these lyrics the central focus of one of the closing tracks on the album, West is highlighting his personal tribulations and a degree of celebrity exile the artist endured in the years leading up to the album’s release, which included the loss of his mother (former chairwoman of Chicago State University’s English department), drawing the scorn of two U.S. presidents, an oft ridiculed gaffe at a music video award show, the general public derision of the rapper’s unabashed narcissism, and his eventual admission that he had contemplated suicide several times during this period (a confession somewhat unprecedented in the world of hip hop) (Young, “Artist of the Year: Kanye West”).

Vernon’s aforementioned lyrics and West’s use of them are rooted in a long tradition of a deep wood (that likely expands beyond the boundaries of western literature) as a metaphor for what might now be called an existential crisis. Vernon’s image of a presumably wintery wood may have originally, for instance, been conceived as an allusion to Robert Frost’s “Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening;” Vernon famously holed up in a cabin within a wooded area to record his first record, suggesting Thoreau’s Walden may have also played some part.

On his album, however, Kanye West seems to be nodding more specifically to the opening tercet of Dante’s Commedia, which finds the poet aimlessly (in the midst of what might be considered a suicidal depression) in a “dark wood” (Hollander, Inf. 2). Moreover, it would seem that West’s use of Dantesque imagery and narrative informed both the promotion and execution of My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, an album that explores the themes of Hell, the intersection of spirituality and sexuality, and the beatification of a principal female character. The use of this imagery, whether thoroughly conscious or not, yields specific implications that should impact the nature of reflection on not just Dante, but Boccaccio (marked specifically by West’s use of salacious, near pornographic lyrics) and other key Italian poets as well (and their often conflicted relationships to one another).

Dante v. Naples and the Influence of American Hip Hop

In his essay “Whiteness and the Blackening of Italy: La guerra cafona, Extracommunitari and Provisional Street Justice,” Joseph Pugliese draws attention to the graffiti marring a monument to Dante in Naples. The essay frames this discussion in a sociopolitical light, briefly summarizing turbulent circumstances leading to the unification of northern and southern Italy. He reads the graffiti as follows:

…situated within the historical genealogy of contestatory acts of brigandage, the defacing and spectacular resignification of a statue of Italy’s iconic nationalist poet evidences a vibrant southern culture connected both to its insurrectionist past and to contemporary transitional counter-hegemonic cultural movements, such as African American hip hop culture. (Pugliese, 9)

Pugliese’s assessment is worthy of note because it accounts for the specific intentions of the southern Italians marking the statute of Dante, rather than write it off as a general apathy toward a cultural/literary icon—this is, rather, an issue rebellion against the nationalization of the Italian language that Dante is said to have promoted by writing in the vernacular. Pugliese explains:

The Neapolitans have desecrated both the poet’s call for a pure Italian language and the state’s imposition of a hegemonic monolingualism, as embodied and petrified by the white stone figure. Palimpsests of languages, ciphers and tags are graffitied onto the statue’s base, encroaching up to the very toes of the poet. (Pugliese, 10)

The placement of the Dante statue in Naples is described by Pugliese as “damning:”

The iconic white figure, symbolizing the purity of the Italian/Tuscan tongue, is here permanently dispatched to the miscegenated African-Oriental nether regions of the Italian nation-state. Swirling up from the very base of the statue is a Babel of languages that defies at every turn doctrinal impositions of cultural purity and linguistic monoglossia. (Pugliese, 9)

Pugliese goes on to further describe the influence of American hip hop on the region as a principal factor setting the Neapolitan perpetrators of graffiti and Dante in opposition, citing the revolutionary/counter-culture aspects of the genre’s relatively short history (Pugliese, 18). Critics may suggest that Pugliese fails to account for many socioeconomic/ethnic subtleties acting on the region, or that he is simply over intellectualizing an act of vandalism. However, his willingness to explore the intentionality (or at least the underlying historical implications) behind the acts of graffiti is important to this discussion of the conversation between the Italian poets and American hip hop, even if his essay explores a scenario where the two worlds are set against each other. Pugliese describes an unfortunate scenario in Naples, where Dante, the poet of exile, diffident and singular in use of religious imagery and invention, is now cast as symbol of hegemony and nationalism. It is worth mentioning that no such account of defamation yet exists for the statues of Dante, Boccaccio, and Petrarch in Florence, which seems to point to some truth in Pugliese’s assessment, at least in terms of deference to the poets in northern Italy.

Navigating Dante & Kanye’s Personal Infernos

In his five-star review for My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy Matthew Cole of Slant Magazine writes,  “For 20 years, rap’s aesthetic has been monopolized by authenticity, and it’s high time it got a bit of competition from fantasy (Cole, “Kanye West: My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy”).” This sentiment is echoed in another glowing review (also full marks) by popular music online publication Pitchfork. Ryan Dombal writes, “With his music and persona both marked by a flawed honesty, Kanye’s man-myth dichotomy is at once modern and truly classic (Dombal, “Pitchfork: Album Reviews…”).” There exist more examples of music criticism praising (or in some cases deriding) West’s emphasis on fantastical elements and imagery on his album, while also drawing attention to the “classical” quality of the music and promotional aesthetics.

The effect of West’s use of fantasy is not at all dissimilar from Dante’s own employment of the (to borrow the phrase) “man myth.” In dealing with his own political exile and interpersonal relationships, Dante casts himself as the central character in his descent to the underworld (and eventual ascent into paradise). In a similar display of self-confidence (if not arrogance), Dante also places himself, early in Inferno (specifically with the introduction of Virgil in Canto I and Ovid, Lucan, Homer, and Horace subsequently in Canto IV), amongst the greatest poets in classical literature:  “And then they showed me greater honor still, / for they made me one of their company, / so that I became the sixth amidst such wisdom (Hollander, Inf. 73).”

This move is not far removed from the posturing and name-dropping typical in the hip hop genre, emphasizing the fact that poetry and hip hop share a common wellspring. Of course, the current vernacular of the rap genre renders Dante’s display of confidence extremely modest by comparison. However, Dante’s deftness and charm in navigating the subject of his position amongst these poets should not take away from the fact that it was, for the time, an extremely potent display of bravado. It also establishes a stronger reader confidence, perhaps somewhat vicariously, as they are asked to subscribe to Dante’s highly personalized, fantastical descent into Inferno.

West devotes much of first half of My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy to establishing the same swagger and credibility, and indeed, the album is best read as a loosely constructed concept that explores depths of the pop star’s own personal Inferno. This reading is supported by several pieces of Dantesque imagery used in the promotion of the album, including a 35 minute feature film directed by the rapper, as well as the work’s lyrical content.

On the opening track, “Dark Fantasy,” West enlists fellow rapper Nicki Minaj to establish the fiction and fantasy behind the album’s proceedings, which she dispenses by juxtaposing West’s tale with some unnamed work of the past. “Yes, it’s awful blasted boring,” she says, referring to what seems like no tale in particular, while affecting a faux-British accent. It is possible to view this curious introduction as a sort of musical establishing shot; once again it seems American hip hop is set against (at least the air of) “stuffy” or “white” literature. This might explain the accent, which walks the line of satire.

Ultimately, however, West takes the reigns of his fantasy immediately following this introduction. He, like Dante, is cast as both the principal narrator and pilgrim for the rest of the album, abandoning any suspicion that Minaj will fulfill that role. West consistently positions himself in respect to other pop stars during in the album’s opening songs. In the promotional film for the album, Runaway, the same song is accompanied by footage of West driving through a dark, wooded roadway in a sports car, which is wrecked (in a very explosive fashion) as this opening scene comes to a close. The car and its destruction should be read as symbolic and congruent with the rapper’s self-awareness of the “sin” of prodigality prevalent in hip hop culture.

The opening song also features allusions to various musicians, including Nas (a fellow rapper), the Beatles, and inescapably Michael Jackson. All of these allusions can be read as West’s attempt to establish himself as the dominant, most relevant presence in pop music. On the song “Gorgeous,” West raps, “I don’t believe in yesterday, / and what’s a black Beatle anyway? / A fuckin’ roach? (West, Track 2 – “Gorgeous”). The jest is a likely a reference to Billy Preston, an auxiliary member of The Beatles, often referred to as the “Black Beatle.” He may also be internalizing the terminology as a way to highlight the absurdity of drawing a racial line between The Beatles and their black collaborators. West’s pop allusiveness here is reminiscent of Dante’s own dense intertextuality; both seem to use these references as a starting point for launching criticism in their respective genres.

On “Dark Fantasy,” also establishes the theme of a Hellish landscape as central to the work. He quips, “Sorry for the night demons that still visit me (West, Track 1 – “Dark Fantasy”).” As the song’s principal producer, West emphasizes the lyric by applying a vocal effect that makes that verse sound demonic. His apology should be read as ironic, if not forced, establishing his confidence in subjecting the listener to his own personal trials.

Later in same song West adds, “The sky filled with heron / I saw the devil / in a Chrysler LeBaron / And the Hell, it wouldn’t spare us (West, Track 1 – “Dark Fantasy”).” The image of the sky filled with heron here is curious, but also suggests the sophistication of West’s allusiveness. In Book X of Homer’s Iliad, Athena, as a display of her favor, sends a heron to Odysseus (Stewart, “Odysseus: Hero and Wander”). That West has a sky full of heron seems to point to a nuanced self-awareness of his own inflated ego, which also serves as a foundation for his self-criticism later in the album.

Dante also employs the story of Odysseus as a way of dealing with the ideas of narcissism (more specifically Narcissus) and pride. In Cantos XXVI and XXX of Inferno, the poet introduces a parallel construction (that spans across the three canticles of the Commedia) dealing with both Odysseus and Narcissus respectively. In Canto XXVI Odysseus (here referred to as Virgil’s Ulysses) is punished in the tenth bolgia as a false counselor (Hollander, 489). There is some debate as to how sympathetically the reader is meant to respond to Ulysses’ punishment, as Dante’s treatment depicts the Greek hero as full of grandeur and charisma, perhaps indicating a level of empathy on the poet’s part (Hollander, 489). Robert Hollander notes in his translation of Inferno, “And a further complication is of more recent vintage:  what should we make of the at least apparent similarity between Ulysses and Dante himself (Hollander, 489)?”

Dante deals with the subject of narcissism in a similar way in Canto XXX. The reference to Narcissus marks another launching point for a parallel construction that is resolved in Paradiso (Hollander, 562). Dante becomes increasingly interested (and possibly amused) by an argument between Sinon and Master Adam (Hollander, 562). Adam’s rebukes Sinon, “For you to lick the mirror of Narcissus / would not take much by way of invitation,” but Dante could just as easily be the target of Adam’s quip (Hollander, 557). The rapt attention Dante pays to the two bickerers indicates a level self-reflexivity. Virgil seems to affirm this suspicion when he scolds Dante:  “‘Go right on looking / and it is I who’ll quarrel with you’ (Hollander, 557).” Virgil’s warning could have just as easily benefited Narcissus in his account of the myth. This suggests Dante’s awareness that he could have shared in the same prideful fate, which he is ultimately able avoid as he progresses through the canticles.

Much like Dante, Kanye West begins to streamline his personal Hell into a shared experience, making aforementioned image of Satan in an automobile, perhaps, to emphasize the materiality of hip hop culture and its alignment with sin. This notion seems to be affirmed by a later song, “So Appalled,” which with its foreboding string and synthesizer arrangements, a sequence of a guest verses, and sheer length wallows in the prideful, excessive “sins” of hip hop culture. The listener should be aware, aesthetically, that they are in the Kanye’s lower realms of hip hop Hell by this point in the album. The bombast that informed the album’s opening songs has now transformed into something much more introspective and self-critical, a movement Dante also appears to make as he continues his descent into Hell.

Enter Eros and Boccaccio:  Censorship and The Intercourse of Sexuality and Spirituality in West’s “Dark” & “Twisted” Fantasy

West’s first selection for the album cover of My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy was banned in certain retail stores because of its painted depiction of a nude, winged woman straddling the rapper in a scene of intercourse. West referred to the woman as his “Phoenix” and the winged woman also features prominently in the promotion film for the album. Ultimately, West kept the album cover, but also introduced a series of variations for different retail markets. While the censorship was mostly restricted to the marketing sphere, it draws attention to the intersection of overt sexuality and spirituality prevalent in the lyric content of the album. Furthermore, the beatification of what West terms “bad bitches” is referenced to often enough to be considered a purposeful construction. The curious introduction of an image of America as a woman with her legs spread, featured in a sample of poet/musician Gil Scott-Heron’s “Comment #1,” which closes the album, also requires further exploration.

Whether conscious or not, the comparison’s that can be drawn between West’s discussion of sexuality and spirituality and Boccaccio’s own in The Decameron are exploring. Even by today’s lax standards, West pushes against established boundaries in pop music with his graphic lyrical depictions of sex. These images are almost always broached within the context of Christianity, not unlike the tales in Boccaccio’s work.

The song most worthy of this sort of reading (and certainly the one containing the most overt use of graphic sexuality on the album) is “Hell of a Life.” Here West raps, “Make her knees shake, make a priest faint, uh / Make a nun cum, make her cremate, uh,” reaffirming a preoccupation with sexuality and theology that is already present on much of the album. In one of The Decameron’s most popular tales (III, 1) the protagonist, Masetto, seeks employment as a gardener in a nunnery, guising himself as a deaf-mute, in order to bed the nuns housed there; the similarity should be self-evident (Waldman, p.171-177).

West also uses this song to address the issues of theology’s role in the bedroom. Later in the song he raps, “We headed to Hell for havin’ sex, huh?” The production contains the same demonic vocal samples featured elsewhere in the album, suggesting that Satan is (ironically) ever present in the song’s sexual procedures. West also seems to address biblical sodomy law (albeit indirectly), discussing the issue within the context in a biting racial criticism about the pornography industry:

Said her price go down she ever fuck a black guy, / or do anal, or do a gangbang / It’s kinda crazy that’s all considered the same thing. / Well, I guess alotta niggas do gang bang / and if we run trains, we all in the same gang / Runaway slaves all on a chain gang. (West, Track 10 – “Hell of a Life”)

It’s important to note that “It’s kinda crazy that’s all considered the same thing” most likely serves primarily to underline West’s frustration that it is considered “kinky” or “taboo” for a woman to have sex with a black male. However, given that the above lyrics follow “We headed to Hell for havin’ sex, huh, ” in short order, the listener might also understand that sins of the flesh are a sort of a packaged deal, punished tidily in an organized Hell, not unlike Dante’s. West’s response to divergence of sexuality and spirituality is characteristically defiant, stating,  “How could you say they live their life wrong / when you never fuck with the lights on?” or later, “Pussy and religion is all I need (West, Track 10 – “Hell of a Life”).”

The tenth story of the third day in The Decameron serves as just one instance of Boccaccio’s own interest in marrying those two concepts. The result stands out as one of the bawdiest tales in the classic, wherein Rustico, a monk, seduces a young woman by teaching her how to put the “Devil” into “Hell” so that she might obtain a closer relationship to god. In Guido Waldman’s translation, the scene plays out as follows:

But as the devil raised his head many a time thereafter and Alibek was always there at his call, ready to deflate him, she started to acquire a taste for the exercise and would say to Rustico: ‘I can see how right they were, those good men at Gafsa who kept telling me what a pleasure it was to serve the Lord.’ (Waldman, 243)

This “holy work” is among The Decameron’s most riotous and graphic depictions of sexual intercourse. The irony, humor, and crassness employed by West is not dissimilar from the goodwill of a poet like Boccaccio, whose own use of those devices might point to his frustration with Church’s resolve to further segregate sexuality and theology.

The Beatification of the “Bad Bitch” and the Ruin of Lady America

West makes references to “bad bitches” several times on his new album. This purposeful (and alliterative) construction should, for the moment, be disassociated from the indiscriminate use of derogatory terminology for women prevalent in the hip-hop genre. While the phrase fulfills these expectations early on in the album, referring to the notion of an especially promiscuous woman, the concept (through promotional pieces and lyrical content) evolves in way that raises the status of the sexually active woman at least to the same level of her flawed, male counterpart, and perhaps to something a bit more transcendent.

The music video for “POWER,” the first song to contain a reference to the “bad bitch,” was conceived as a painting in motion by the rapper (West, Track 3 – “POWER”). The classical influences on the promotional piece are heavy, which features a number of women draped around the feet of the rapper as a number of dagger wielding men sail toward him in slow motion, ready to attack. West seems to be operating in the misogynist mode that informs other songs in his genre, wherein he is the principal agent of power and domination. Later promotional materials feature the winged woman, who eludes West at every turn and eventually ascending to the sky, leaving him behind on a smoldering Earth.

If nothing else, the album can certainly be said to deal self-critically with the rampant misogyny in rap lyrics, while, curiously, also wading in it. On the track “Monster,” however, rapper Nicki Minaj reasserts her presence on the album, this time not as a false narrator, but a self-described “bad bitch.” Her verse adds to up to a perfect pitch in the drama. Following West’s assertion that he’ll “put the pussy in a sarcophagus” and hip-hop mogul Jay-Z’s painfully self-conscious rhymes (plus the admission that he’s not getting enough “love”), Minaj absolutely dominates the two hip-hop titans in every way, rapping, “You can be the King, but watch the Queen conquer.” She does, discussing her unquestionable earning power and sexual liberation, and for better or worse West exploits the drama masterfully. After this song, West employs a self-critical approach whenever discussing his relationships with women on the album.

Minaj’s chastisement shares some similarity Philippa’s eloquent defense in The Decameron (VI, 7), assuming we assess them both as characters in a constructed narrative. This should be the attitude assumed by those investigating an album billed as “fantasy.” Both characters exist in a world where men remain the dominant force (by authors whose intentions are suspect, but still divergent from the hegemonic view). In his tale, Boccaccio affords Philippa the courage and ability to humiliate the dominant male figure in her life and walk away having won her freedom from threat of a death sentence. Philippa in the tale, defending her adultery, uses diminutive, polite tone in addressing the judge:

‘I put it to you, Your Honour:  if he has always helped himself to do what he wanted from me for his pleasure, what was I do to do, what am I to do—that which is left over? Am I to throw it to the dogs? Is it not far better to place it at the disposal of a gentleman who loves me beyond all telling, rather than let it spoil or go to waste?’ (Waldman, 399).

Minaj, in changing the intonation of her voice, uses a number of different tones in delivering her verse on the track. At one point, she assumes the diminutive voice, rapping, “So, let me get this straight, wait, I’m the rookie? / But my features and shows is ten times your pay / 50K for a verse, no album out (West, Track 6 — “Monster”).” West drops everything but the beat during Minaj’s verse, drawing all attention to her lyrical dominance. Moreover, she has the last word.

The self-critical introspection that follows Minaj’s performance seems to culminate in the album’s closing track, where West remains silent, and looses the better part of a spoken word piece by Gil-Scott Heron, which sees the personification of America as a female and her subsequent ruin. The rapper drew criticism for using the poem, which is often associated with racial tension in America following the Civil Rights Movement. Critics suggest that the use was a half-handed attempt to associate his pop-music, for which he has enjoyed much success, with the political turmoil of that era.

However, within the context of the fantasy and narrative, it would appear that West took Heron’s personification literally, given that “Lost in the World,” a song largely about West’s interpersonal problems, musically leads in to “Who Will Survive in America,” the track featuring Heron’s poem. In fact, the separation of these two tracks might be largely rooted in that early criticism as it seems that West must have intended for Heron’s poem to be an epilogue to “Lost in the World.” In the poem, Heron also employs graphic sexual images as a means of delivering his message:

America stripped for bed and we had not all yet closed our eyes. The signs of Truth were tattooed across our open-ended vagina. We learned, to our amazement, untold tale of scandal. Two long centuries buried in the musty vault, hosed down daily with a gagging perfume. America was a bastard the illegitimate daughter of the mother country whose legs were then spread around the world and a rapist known as freedom, free doom. Democracy, liberty, and justice were revolutionary code names that preceded the bubbling bubbling bubbling bubbling bubbling in the mother country’s crotch. (Scott-Heron, “Comment #1)

West, in using Heron’s poem, seems intent on connecting this his own celebrity turmoil to a number of unresolved conflicts still plaguing America’s racial landscape. Whether or not this is simply an act of grandiloquence on the part of the rapper remains for debate, but it is Heron, not West, who ends the album—with a question:  “Who will survive in America?” It is a question that belongs to the exile, not entirely removed from the frequent prophecies of political turmoil in Florence, constructed by Dante in the Commedia, and Boccaccio’s concern with the same city (and its relationship desexualized theology) following the Black Death. Heron’s plague-like, sexual imagery seems to serve West in a similar way in the closing his album. It might also be suggested that the mysterious winged woman featured in his promotional film served as an embodiment of that ideal. She woman flies away from west in the film, in her own ascent to the heavens.

Implications and Conclusion

There is a question of intention that haunts any criticism attempting to link great works of literature with their contemporary popular cultural counterparts. A certain amount of biographical criticism may help answer the question of intentionality in this examination (West’s mother, again, served as the Chair of the English Dept. at Chicago State University and her focus was literature), but the ability to connect these seemingly disparate worlds is of equal importance. What these connections might indicate about the status of poets like Dante, Boccaccio, and even Petrarch in their time is in some ways illuminated by the way we treat pop-stars in the contemporary world. In a day when literature was a principal form of entertainment, did these poets enjoy a similar amount of celebrity? If the answer is yes, does that give any credibility to West’s portrayal of himself as the pop star of exile? These questions and more are raised by a sort of criticism that bridges these two worlds, severing both literary and, perhaps, anthropological endeavors. It is a criticism that should be approached seriously, fighting all intuitions toward self-consciousness and bashfulness (perhaps not entirely avoided here—great pains will be taken to eliminate any instances of qualification). There is no doubt that a number of key differences exist between these time-segregated works, but that they share common wellsprings and mentalities is astonishing.

The comparisons between Kanye West and the Italian poets (as a supplement to this essay will indicate) have not been entirely exhausted. However, the comparisons explored here are the product of an attempt to identify the instances most relevant to the conversation between popular culture and classic literature. What’s clear is that there exists a wealth of similarity shared between in the promotion and execution of West’s My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy and the works of Boccaccio, and Dante, whose stony appearance in Naples is currently the victim of graffiti vandalism. Through explications such as this, however, there exists the possibility that the poet might have been expropriated for a number counter and popular cultural movements, and might share similar success in the future thanks to his singular depiction of Hell and its seemingly interminable influence.

Works Cited

Boccaccio, Giovanni, Guido Waldman, and Jonathan Usher. The Decameron. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1998. Print.

Cole, Matthew. “Kanye West: My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy.” Slant Magazine. 20 Nov. 2010. Web. 30 Nov. 2010. <http://www.slantmagazine.com/music/review/kanye-west-my-beautiful-dark-twisted-fantasy/2325&gt;.

Dante, Alighieri, Robert Hollander, and Jean Hollander. Inferno. New York: Anchor, 2002. Print.

Dombal, Ryan. “Pitchfork: Album Reviews: Kanye West: My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy.” Pitchfork: Home. 22 Nov. 2010. Web. 30 Nov. 2010. <http://pitchfork.com/reviews/albums/14880-my-beautiful-dark-twisted-fantasy/&gt;.

Pugliese, Joseph. “Whiteness and the Blackening of Italy: La Guerra Cafona, Extracommunitari and Provisional Street Justice.” PORTAL Journal of Multidisciplinary International Studies5.2 (2008): 1-35. University of Technology Sidney. Web. 1 Dec. 2010. <http://epress.lib.uts.edu.au/journals/index.php/portal/article/viewArticle/702&gt;.

Scott-Heron, Gil. A New Black Poet: Small Talk at 125th and Lenox. RCA / Victor, 2001. CD.

Stewart, M.W. “Odysseus: Hero and Wanderer.” Mythagora.com – Greek Mythology: From The Iliad To The Fall Of The Last Tyrant. Web. 15 Dec. 2010. <http://mythagora.com/bios/odysseus.html&gt;.

West, Kanye, perf. My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. Rec. 2009-2010. Def Jam/Roc-A-Fella, 2010. CD.

Young, Alex. “Artist of the Year: Kanye West « Consequence of Sound.” Consequence of Sound | Artist of the Year: Kanye West. 15 Dec. 2010. Web. 15 Dec. 2010. <http://consequenceofsound.net/2010/12/15/artist-of-the-year-kanye-west/&gt;.

B-Sides (Notes)

What follows is a list of connections that I hope to explore in greater depth given the luxury of time for further reflection and revision:

  • West’s own b-side, “See Me Now,” did make the cut for his album. In the song he refers to himself as Jesus and Socrates. Perhaps he thought the leap was too grand. Dante walks a similar line in the Commedia.
  • West’s frequent references to obscure Chicago (his hometown) political situations. Dante’s conversation with the politics of Florence.
  • The frequent mention of Italian designers, artists, and musicians on his albums; the spaghetti western compositional quality of the production on “Hell of a Life.”
  • West’s more direct nods to other literary figures in social networking posts and lyrics.
  • Finding connections to other Major Italian poets in the broader context of popular music.
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