Goofus Visits the Vatican

Last week Beth and I went into Rome armed with the intention of going to the Vatican museum. Brian had advised us to wait until noon to get in line because that would minimize our wait time. But when we walked into St. Peter's Square at 11:15 we figured we would get a head start on our day and fell into the line that was in front of us. I'm not ready to say that the following is a trait of Europeans and not just a general rudeness that descends on tourists in generals, but the lines to all of these religious sites and museums are teeming with the pushiest people I have ever been around. It is pretty common to spend the ten minutes before you see a Renaissance art masterpiece with the hands of an elderly woman pressed into the small of your back. Beth and I have been pretty gracious the first six weeks of our time over here, but we are slowly losing our patience. I now walk extra slowly the moment I feel hands on my person, and she has used her defensive blocking skills from her JV basketball glory days (Here we go, Lady Popes!).

We made it through the line in record time and were pretty pleased with ourselves. Our elation was short-lived, however, when we realized that we had been in the line for St. Peter's Basilica and the Vatican Museum was a mile away. But my motto has always been, when life gives you Basilicas, make Basilica-ade. We spent a half hour walking around and got to see Michelangelo's Pieta up close, as well as Bernini's statue of Pope Alexander. Fun fact: one of the women in the frieze in front of the Pope - I think she is supposed to represent Faith - has her foot on a globe and a look of mild annoyance on her face. If you look closely, there is a small nail extending from the globe that is digging into her foot. The nail is sticking out of England, and the lady's facial expression is supposed to represent Pope Alexander's frustration at not being able to unify the Anglican and Catholic churches.*

After we got out of the Basilica we walked over to the Vatican Museum. Again, luck was on our side and we only had to wait twenty minutes before we were inside. The museum is another prizefight experience where you keep getting socked by masterpiece after masterpiece. Mummies! Ancient Greek busts! Whole apartments painted by Raphael! I had only realized the night before that going to the Vatican Museum meant seeing the Sistine Chapel (see the title of this entry), so I was especially excited. Brian had told us that you see signs pointing you to the Chapel the moment you walk in, and likened it to the signs for Ruby Falls (or, for my sister, South of the Border). Our guidebook said that even if you walked past all the other works of art and went straight to the Chapel (undoubtedly breaking the hearts of art historians everywhere), it would take a half hour. So by the time we even walked through its doors, our heads were a little woozy from seeing things we had previously only seen in books up close. But we rallied and spent about forty minutes there, going back and looking at favorite panels and consulting our guidebook for more information (two more fun facts about “The Last Judgment”: the flayed skin that St. Bartholomew is holding is Michelangelo’s self-portrait, and the donkey-eared imp helping load the poor souls onto Charon’s skiff is modeled on a contemporary of Michelangelo’s who criticized Michelangelo using nude models.)

And finally, another reason for the title of this entry and another reason why I shouldn’t be so smug about Dan Brown: I didn’t realize until I read “Angels and Demons” that the Sistine Chapel was where the cardinals met to elect a new pope. I think everyone got a big kick out of me hanging up my campaign posters under some of the less significant frescoes.

*Please take any art/history/art history information I dispense with a huge grain of salt. I got the above info by eavesdropping on the free Basilica tour given by an enthusiastic American college student.