Duino Castle

On arriving in Trieste, I checked into my hostel – a place that was good for a bed though not much more – dumped my bags, and set out at once in search of the bus to Duino. After some confusion, I managed to fluke the last service that would get me there before the castle closed.

The castle’s façade isn’t as grand as others, but the view! Perched high on a cliff peering out over the vast Adriatic, with the gorgeous castle gardens spread out below. As usual, I was particularly mesmerized by the literary cache of the place. I could see Rilke arriving, thinking of Lou Salome, whom he’d stolen from Nietszche; Marie Bonaparte writing letters to Freud (some of which were on display).

I spent an hour in the castle, during which time I discovered a gorgeous balcony off one of the main rooms. After the initial shock of the view, I thought it would be appropriate to recite the opening lines of Rilke’s first Duino Elegy while videoing the surrounds (see below).

from the first of Rilke's Duino Elegies (translated by Stephen Mitchell)

Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels' hierarchies?
And even if one of them pressed me suddenly against his heart:
I would be consumed in that overwhelming existence.
For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror,
which we are still just able to endure,
and we are so awed because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
Every angel is terrifying.
And so I hold myself back and swallow the call-note of my dark sobbing...

___

I also like John Tranter’s version, which opens:

I hate this place. If I were to throw a fit, who
among the seven thousand starlets of Hollywood
would give a flying fuck….

___

By this time the castle was closing – and here began one of the strangest experiences on my trip so far.

Rather than leaving, I thought I’d go for a stroll through the gardens, along the cliffs. The flora was luscious, but to my surprise I saw some of the fauna also: about thirty meters away, I caught sight of a young deer as it bounded away, no doubt spooked by my presence.

Suddenly I was startled by a man’s voice behind me. It was the gardener, and though he was yelling at me in Italian, I was certainly aware what the problem was: I wasn’t supposed to be here. When he realized I spoke English, he spoke to me in quite an aristocratic English accent, though gruffly. ‘How did you get in? Did you jump the fence?’

I replied that I’d merely walked in, through the open gate after visiting the castle. He didn’t believe me, insisting instead that I must’ve jumped the fence as the gate was locked. Thankfully, I’d taken a photo of the open gate, so I showed him on my camera. It seemed I had somehow gotten myself locked in the gardens for about an hour.

‘You shouldn’t be here,’ he said. ‘They let the dogs out after they lock up!’

The dogs??? I suppose I should count myself lucky, really.

The gardener started to relax when he realized I was harmless, and showed me the way out through his own adjoining garden. In hindisight, I wouldn’t have swapped getting locked in the gardens of the Duino castle for anything.