Kanye and Dante

Love him or hate him, Kanye West is a potent artist. He has continually pushed the boundaries of his field. Initially, this meant bringing consciousness and emotional expression back into rap: “All Falls Down” was the first song that I felt accurately reflected the sorrow in the hypocrisy of materialism. When Kanye rose to fame, he stood for something pure, and his arrogance was just an unimportant reflection of his fallibility in this endeavor.

But over time, his pure intentions were misplaced in the looming monster of arrogance that was consuming him. Kanye was no longer concerned about whether Jesus Walks but was more concerned with quite blatantly, Power. His previous desire to bring falseness to the forefront of our minds and stand for authenticity became corrupted by the sudden influx of endless streams of praise, women, and money that comes into the life of a superstar. “Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy” replaced God with Nietzsche.

In early 2016 Kanye dropped “The Life of Pablo,” and I listened to it every day for the next few months. The album was the type of production that I was immediately drawn to; it was fluid and free, emotional and focused all at once. In more concrete terms, it was Kanye’s introspection on his life, with a nod to what we assume is Pablo Picasso, although the reality is that Pablo could be anyone.

The story arc of the songs within TLOP effectively parallels the path of Kanye’s artistic journey. He starts emotionally, open, and with pure intentions on “Ultralight Beam.” The middle of the album is volatile, with moments of gospel and God and overwhelmingly dark vulnerability—a reflection of the middle of Kanye’s discography. And finally, the thumping braggadocio of “Facts” and “No More Parties in LA” represents Yeezus and reflects the trademark arrogance that serves as the simultaneous shield and fuel for Kanye’s frustration and insecurity.

The last track of the album, “Saint Pablo,” serves as an insight into the state of mind of Kanye as he was creating TLOP. Here is the ending piece, and here is where we can understand best what is going on. As the concerns of day-to-day life that start the song fade out, Sampha’s yearning voice croons:

“Wonderin' whether God's gonna say hi

Oh, you're lookin' at the church in the night sky

And you wonder where is God in your nightlife

(Father, father, father...)”

In this moment it becomes clear: Kanye wants liberation. Liberation from the bounds of many things, but when we strip away the superficial, he like all of us at our core, wants to transcend the human conditions of fallibility and mortality. The invocation of God at the beginning of TLOP reflects the central role God plays to Kanye; the wistfulness of the fading ending reflects the idea that God is the salvation.

Kanye, in many senses, is the 21st century version of Dante Allegheri—a poet going through an epic journey through the three religious phases of Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven. In Dante’s time, society, and people, were judged based on their sins. Medieval Florence, beyond just the realm of sin, had incredibly structured social roles with a clearly defined hierarchy and set customs for behavior at each level. In his “Divine Comedy,” Dante accurately reflects these clearly defined levels through the layers of Hell, Purgatory, and Heaven.

In the post-postmodern, there is no clearly defined anything. There is no set hierarchical value system, and there is nothing new to be stated. Only quotes of prior statements to give new light to the same concepts.

Kanye reflects this in his extensive sampling, a process where music from another period is layered into your own. Kanye samples sounds, artists, and even Vines from all over the world and across the last hundred years of music production.

What I hear on the ending of TLOP, “Saint Pablo,” is a song about a guy striving for salvation, looking to be in touch with God. Taken literally, Kanye received his taste of fame, and fell into the pits of hell, indulging in beautiful dark twisted fantasies; and now he leaves and reflects, reaching a subjective purgatory. As he looks to the church in the night sky, he sees the path to Heaven and the fallibility of his current being. He understands, just as Dante did, that he must shed his sin to reach the next level in pursuit of something greater. Whether he will or not reach that higher level is still to be determined, but the path is there, and in the dim glow of the moon the path to the light becomes clear.

The extraordinary awareness in his music seems to already illuminate the path to salvation; perhaps all Kanye needs simply to follow his own lead.

Jamie C. Stewart ’18, a Crimson editorial writer, is a philosophy concentrator living in Leverett House.