“I saw my lady there so radiate joy, as within that shining heaven she passed, that the bright planet grew thence brighter still”
. . . . .
Dante often describes God, not as an old bearded patriarch, but as pure light and overwhelming presence: “I clearly see you nest in your own light, and that you flash it from your eyes, because it sparkles when you smile. But I know not who you are, nor why, worthy soul, you take your rank here from the sphere most veiled from mortals in another's rays,’ I said, addressing myself to the radiance.” (Paradiso, V, 124-32) In line with the metaphysics of Bonaventura da Bagnoreggio (1221-74) and Thomas Aquinas, Dante conceived light as lux (diffusion of creative energy); lumen (flux of life conveyed by transparent means through space); and splendor (reflected by the opaque bodies that it strikes.) Here, rather than falling short of a full visual translation of something that cannot be truly represented by human creativity, Dalí proposes a suggestive, unfinished image.