This article was written by Matt Staggs and originally appeared on Unbound Worlds.
Divine Comedy author Dante Alighieri died on this day in 1321. In honor of the great poetâs life, we offer this short guide to the nine circles of Hell, as described in Danteâs Inferno.
First Circle: Limbo
The first circle is home to the unbaptized and virtuous pagans. Itâs not Heaven, but as far as Hell goes, it isnât too bad: Itâs the retirement community of the afterlife. Hippocrates and Aristotle will be your neighbors, so any attempt at small talk will probably turn into Big Talk in a hurry. Youâll have television, but all of the channels will be set to CSPAN.
Second Circle: Lust
The wind-buffeted second circle of Hell is the final destination of the lustful and adulterous â basically anyone controlled by their hormones. Cleopatra and Helen of Troy were among its most famous residents during Danteâs day, but you can expect this place to be full of angsty teenagers and reality television stars by the time you arrive.
Third Circle: Gluttony
Todayâs forecast calls for plenty of icy rain and slush â a âwintery mixâ for all eternity. You know those people whose Instagram feeds are full of carefully lit photos of artfully arranged entrees? Youâll probably find them here, plus anyone whose response is âIâm kind of a foodieâ when asked where theyâd like to go eat.
Fourth Circle: Greed
This section of Hell is reserved for the money-grubbers and overly materialistic among us. According to Dante, those condemned to the fourth circle spend eternity fighting over money and valuables, so be prepared to meet all of your distant cousins who show up out of nowhere with empty U-Haul trucks moments the moment after a well-to-do great aunt or uncle dies.
Fifth Circle: Anger
Dante tells us that the wrathful and angry souls of this circle spend eternity waging battle on the River of Styx. If playing pirates forever sounds like your idea of a good time, then the fifth circle canât be too bad. Be prepared to hoist the Jolly Roger and go to war against that one guy in line who yelled at your favorite barista, and the road rage-possessed driver who very nearly rear-ended you last week.
Sixth Circle: Heresy
Dante wrote that heretics spent eternity entombed in flaming crypts in the sixth circle, but heresy is kind of an obscure sin in modern times. Thereâs probably plenty of vacancies now, so letâs fill this one with anyone who goes bananas whenever âtheirâ movie franchise or comic book changes in a way they donât like. The air in the sixth circle is probably choked with ashes and anguished cries of â[X] ruined my childhood!â
Seventh Circle: Violence
Iâll be honest with you, dear reader: Dante was being kind of a dick when it came to designing this level. It is composed of three rings. The outer ring is filled with blood and fire and reserved for murderers and thugs. Thatâs fine, but it gets sketchier from here. The middle ring is where, according to Dante, suicide victims go. Theyâre transformed into trees and fed upon by harpies (which I guess are somehow related to termites?). The inner ring, a place of burning sand, is reserved for âblasphemersâ and âsodomites.â Like I said, Dante was a bit of a dick. How about we ret-con this one (Sorry, residents of the sixth circleâŠ) and reserve it for the likes of the Westboro Baptist Church? If that makes me kind of a dick, well, Iâll live with that.
Eighth Circle: Fraud
The eighth circle is subdivided into ten trenches. We wonât get into the specifics of who goes where (Too bad, Dante. Thatâs what you get for making me write abut the seventh circle) but here youâll find con artists of all sorts. Dante described ditches, but I prefer to think of the eight circle as being a giant cubicle farm full of phone and internet fraudsters. Welcome, so-called Nigerian princes and supposed âIRS agentsâ who insist on being paid in iTunes cards.
Ninth Circle: Treachery
The final circle is a frozen wasteland occupied by historyâs greatest traitors. So ⊠Washington, DC in February?
Photo by Ian Stauffer on Unsplash

Robert Johnson (1911 â 1938)
The undisputed master of the Delta Blues is rumored to have met the devil at the crossroads to bargain for his soul. Johnson got his wish and became a famous bluesman, but died at only 27 years of age. The exact location of Johnsonâs crossroads is unknown, although some people suggest the intersection of US 61 and US 49 in Clarksdale, MS. Thatâs as good a place to begin your search as any. If you donât find the devil, thereâs still a good chance youâll find God: Morgan Freeman is a Clarksdale native, and is not infrequently spotted hanging out at his Ground Zero Blues Club.
Expert Advice: Take a trip to the Delta and look for the devil at the crossroads. At worst youâll have some incredible food and enjoy some great music.
Jonathan Moulton (1726 â 1787)
Revolutionary War hero Brigadier General Jonathan Moulton took trolling to an epic level when he sold his soul for an agreement that the devil would fill his boots with gold every day. Unafraid to try the father of lies at his own game, Moulton cut the soles out of his boots and placed them on the top of his chimney. After Old Scratch came along to fill up Moultonâs boots and found that he couldnât, he burned Moultonâs house down.
Expert Advice: Thereâs no way youâre getting a square deal out of the devil, and youâre going to Hell anyway. You might as well try to pull one over on him.
NicolĂČ Paganini (1782-1840)
This Italian violin virtuoso was gifted enough that people just assumed that he had made a deal with the devil. The rumors dogged him until the day he died â and after. Following his death in 1840, the Catholic church in Genoa refused to give him a Christian burial. Is there any truth to his association with Satan? Maybe, maybe not, and Itâs unlikely the devil will give you a straight answer.
Expert Advice: Even if you donât make a deal with the devil, you might as well let people think you did. Itâs obviously good publicity if weâre still talking about it nearly 2 centuries later. Just clear everything up with your priest, first.
Theophilus of Adana (? â 535 AD)
Unhappy with his lot in life as an archdeacon in the church, Theophilus decided to explore his options as a free agent. He hired a necromancer to summon the devil, who offered Theophilus a position as a bishop in the church in exchange for his soul. Theophilus signed a contract in blood and was promoted shortly thereafter. Apparently Theophilus looked at his chances as a mole in Godâs operation and decided they werenât so good. He took the contract to another bishop and asked for his help. The bishop ripped up the contract and Theophilus died on the spot ⊠supposedly out of joy to have gotten out of the deal, but itâs not like heâs around to ask.
Expert Advice: Whether youâre getting in or getting out of a deal with the devil, itâs good to have a professional at your side. You might have a hard time finding a necromancer these days, but thereâs always Craigslist.
NEXT STEPS:
Grab your guitar or violin, hang a pair of boots over your chimney, put your bishopâs phone number on speed dial, and grab the next flight out to Clarksdale. Chances are this wonât end the way you want it to, but you canât say I didnât warn you. Presuming you do make contact with the devil, then youâre probably going to want to start thinking of ways to get out of your contract. Here are a couple of maybe-tried and not-so-true methods.
Fiddle Contest:
Apparently, Satan canât resist a good old fashioned fiddlinâ. 







