At the entrance to the underworld, Dante encountered the now infamous words: “Abandon hope all ye who enter here.” This greeting at the gates of Hell is an instruction to abandon hope, an indication that Hell is a hopeless place...or at least intended to be. In the very least, it is an inscription that implies hopelessness is a defining feature of Hell.
What would it be like to be without hope? When we have hope for anything at all, we can look forward to the possibility of something good. We acknowledge at least the possibility—no matter how unlikely it may seem—of something good, and therefore there is something to prepare for, even if its coming to fruition is by no means guaranteed. If there is hope, there is reason to act in anticipation of a future that, though unknown, is pregnant with possibility.
Without hope, without even the bare acknowledgment of any possible possibilities that would later prove our present perseverance worthwhile, perseverance has no point. If there is no hope, why bother? Why try? What is there to prepare for or to strive for?
Of course, our hopes are by no means guaranteed. Often our hopes are dashed, and the old adage instructs us not to get our hopes up for fear of being let down. What we hold up in hope and prepare for in uncertain anticipation often enough eludes us despite our hopeful pursuit—we come to find our hopeful investment of time and effort has been foreclosed upon. And so at our best we hope with humility: we set our eyes on the mountain’s peak and set out, seeing many precipices along the way and accepting the potential falls we may take—falls that become greater and greater the higher our hope takes us.
Yet hope carries us onward, and one foot falls in place in front of the other, onward to a destination we aren’t guaranteed to arrive at—yet with hope we make our way. Indeed, perhaps the reason that Hell is said to be unwelcoming to hope is because hope—on its own, with nothing else required—is enough to light a way forward with a light that beckons.