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The Divine Comedy has been brought back to life using elegant and eloquent language to appeal to a contemporary audience thirsty for the story but uncomfortable with the archaic style and cadence of classical terza rima. Beyond The Inferno, a novelisation of Dante's epic poem Divina Commedia, explores his literary classic in a format which allows the modern reader - and students of Dante - to immerse themselves in the plucky poet’s adventures as he stumbles down a dark and dangerous rabbit hole to undertake a perilous quest. through the afterlife - while he's still alive - to save mankind from spiritual destruction.


The Divine Comedy's underlying theme - that corruption of the Church and religious apathy threatens the spiritual stability of mankind - serves as a pertinent metaphor for the modern reader and is a timely reminder of the fragility of humanity; its ruination driven by personal indifference, political and corporate degeneracy and the Establishment’s surrendering of its moral compass.

Alex L Moretti’s debut novel Beyond The Inferno was inspired by some of the greatest and most recognisable works of art from masters including Botticelli, Rodin and Doré. It was Dante’s graphic poem, Inferno, which influenced Renaissance artists and transformed their creative depictions of Hell from barren landscapes to shocking, horrific, explicit and occasionally tender pieces, dramatically portraying the punishment of sin and torturous suffering of humankind, kindling Alex's interest in the poem and setting him firmly on his own quest - to resurrect The Divine Comedy in fiction format, untangling the language of the 14th century and making it accessible for today's reader.


“This adaptation could well become the book that everyone has been searching for, narrating the fantastic story in a modern yet erudite way.” Olivia Eisinger – Editor at Large

Also available:
Beyond The Inferno - audiobook
Beyond The Inferno Collection - Inferno
Beyond The Inferno Collection - Purgatory
Beyond The Inferno Collection - Paradise


As a man I am mostly unremarkable yet in this precise moment know I partake in an event truly extraordinary. It is ominous, perhaps, that today marks the crucifixion of our blessed Mother’s son upon the gibbet at the gates of Jerusalem. Just shy of one million moons have passed since that onerous day and although I know I am not to suffer the same torment as he, believe that I, too, find myself as in death. Yet this is most confusing for, certainly, I am alive! In truth, I know not why I have been plunged into this bleak wilderness nor what it is I shall find, but I suspect it is the afterlife, for the living do not reside here I am sure of it.


In solitude and from within the depths of my soul I yearn for it to be Paradise, for I seek deliverance. To know I am arrived in the celestial spheres would bring great comfort, for is it not man’s fervent desire to attain salvation? Indeed, to find myself in the realm of darkness would be to accept eternal separation from the Creator and I am unprepared to contemplate such a ruinous truth, thus, just as I pray for eternal life, I pray for light in these shadows of foreboding. Yet I fear this darkness. Am I to be denied? Exiled thus? Banished to a cataclysmic afterlife of eternal death, to the very core of the Underworld where the Black Emperor reigns? I fear this is what He has ordained, although why I cannot think. This is not my time, for most assuredly I am not dead. Indeed, my heart beats strong, as the Roman drums of war.


In this moment I know dread. I am not blind yet cannot see the path ahead, for in stumbling and lurching about this desolate wasteland I look up to find myself in a forest which has an impenetrable darkness, as black as the ebony trees within. I have lost one of my senses for the blackness is such to be blinded, eyes gouged and tossed aside, for they are no use to me here. Tree roots ripple at the decaying soil as undulating waves such that they wish me to falter and stumble and they are victorious. I stagger directionless, reeling and pitching, drawn in as a spinning whirlpool sucks me deeper and stronger, as if Charybdis drags me into her very bowels. As ebony, so dense it may sink in water, I too plunge to the depths of the abyss, hauled into the forest with a force more powerful than the Mighty himself, but I cannot escape. A scream echoes as I am pulled to the core of the terrifying entangled maze, determined to avoid it and all the bedlam that resides within, for I fear this is a gateway to the Underworld. Yet struggle is futile as the violent maelstrom drags me in further, the solid arms and fists of trees which, as I, breathe with life, force me deeper into the black void. For this is The Dark Wood. That desolate and hideous place of which we have heard and of which we are all afraid.

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