In which I peer into the passato remoto (like, molto molto remoto) Dante, the poet of Italy, so famous the last name is basically superfluous, died seven hundred years ago today. Seven HUNDRED years. WHAT. He had contracted malaria while staying in Ravenna at the request of its prince, Guido II da Polenta. Scholars estimateContinue reading “A presto, Dante Alighieri!”