In a deep valley below Bomarzo’s Orsini palace lies the so-called ‘Monster Park’ – the Sacro Bosco, a Mannerist gem from the later 16th century. It is surely one of the most remarkable Renaissance gardens in Italy, if not Europe. Tufa outcrops of this secret wood have been sculpted into a company of fabulous figures, some monstrous in design. They hold visitors in thrall, as they have since their rediscovery by the Bettini family soon after the Second World War.
The walled garden lies beside a small dark stream that beforehand had served a water-mill. A sphinx with an inscription sets out the mysterious concept behind this extraordinary place. The words beneath the sphinx read: Tu ch’entri qui pon mente parte a parte,/Et dimmi poi se tante maraviglie sian fatte per inganno o pur per arte… (‘You who enter…tell me whether or not these marvels have been created through deceit or art’). Beyond, a massive monster with gaping teeth and an orb on his head stands guard close to the entrance, where a burst of water races over rocks into the wood. The path follows steps down towards the water-mill, and there a Hercules, 10m or more tall, struggles vigorously with a terrified upturned human. Further down, as the brook twists in the glade, a giant turtle balances an orb on its scaly back. Next to it is a dry fountain worthy of any piazza in Florence, and graced by a Pegasus. Beyond, partly obscured by the shadows of tall trees, are half-finished inscriptions in the volcanic rock face. The trail passes two pseudo-Egyptian obelisks, a line of cartoon-like busts atop tall columns, and a bizarre two-storey house comically tipped up as if riding an earthquake.
Now, arriving in the heart of the Sacro Bosco, is a full-sized elephant ridden by a figure that could be Hannibal, while an unfortunate Roman centurion is wrapped into the animal’s twisted trunk. This warrior beast stands close to Neptune, who is observing his fellow sculptures with intent, and a fiercely armoured dragon. Finally, tucked behind the elephant is a work of art that has long since branded Bomarzo. Here, an ogre has been carved into the rock face separating two terraces. His face is open, both inviting and menacing. His eyes and nose are drilled round, with a gaping mouth through which you may enter, dodging his gap teeth, to reach a table and dine where his tongue should be, as in an Etruscan tomb. Inscribed into his upper lip are the words Ogni pensiero vola (‘Every thought flies’). It is a reference to Dante’s Inferno, in which he writes Lasciate ogni speranza voi che entrate (‘Abandon all hope, you who enter’).
