Monsters exist. Sure, for some of us, they are just figments of our imagination, creatures that loomed underneath our beds, or hidden in our closets when we were little, while for others, they are alive and well. On any given night, turn on the TV and there will be a reality show of a scientist or some adventure seeker in search of a monster. America adores tales of strange sightings, of grisly beasts, and of all things that go bump in the night.
Whereas America loves its Big Foot, and Scotland has its Lochness monster, what about Italy? What creatures lurk in the forests amidst the spruce and pine, or in the waters of its lakes ready to gobble up some unsuspecting victim? Goodness knows that with its amazing history and vast landscape, surely Italy would be home to some mystical, legendary monsters.
The answer is surprising. Unlike the U.S. where people swear to have seen a Mothman, Sasquatch or Jersey Devil, most monsters in Italy have never been seen in person and are in fact, purely fictional, no more real than Godzilla or King Kong. The gnefro, for example, in Umbria’s folk culture, is a type of Goblin or gnome that takes pleasure in teasing and scaring travelers at night. In Sardinian folklore, one often hears about the Scultone, a dragon like creature that killed both humans and animals. Finally, one creature called the Cenocroca sounds almost comical, a genetic mess, a smorgasbord of other beasts mashed up together. This poor creature is made up of a lion’s mouth, a donkey’s body, and horses hooves. Plus, to top it off, it speaks with a human voice.
But what about monsters that are not just made up stories and instead, could have possibly existed? Has there ever been a monster in Italy that has been documented by eyewitness accounts. The answer is yes. The first is il Drago Taranta, a snake-like creature equipped with horns, tail and web like-feet. But what makes it different than Nellie is that this dragon of Northern Italy was capable of spitting fire from its mouth and smoke from his nose.
Unlike most Italian legends, this creature has had actual sightings which have been documented. In 1300, a document reported that a large creature had been killed in Lodi and the bones were kept until 1800. One legend states that a Knight who became the founder of the Visconti family killed the dragon. In fact, The Dragon Tarantasio later became a symbol of Milano and part of the Visconti crest; the Biscione depicts a serpent devouring a human.
The latest account was as recent as November 1946 when a sea monster made headlines when it appeared in Lake Como. Fishermen claimed that they saw a creature with “gleaming eyes, green scales, and black strips.”
While this creature was busy swimming in the lakes up north and terrifying local fishermen and swimmers, another creature made its way on land. The Lupo mannaro, the werewolf, has been spotted throughout Italy. In fact, its name varies from region to region. While in Calabria, it is called Lupu pampanu, those in Puglia refer to it as the Lupom’n.
The term lycanthropy is used in literature to describe the transformation from man to wolf. Interested in becoming a werewolf? No problem. A few ways to do so include being bitten by a werewolf during a full moon, being cursed by a gypsy or perhaps the least complicated, having a werewolf parent. Fortunately, getting rid of a werewolf seems less complicated—all one needs is a silver bullet.
One of the most famous accounts of a werewolf sighting comes from a small church in Ragusa. It is there, at the Santa Maria della Scala, where a werewolf attacked a local priest. Frightened, the terrified priest struck the beast with a wooden cross. As thick black blood dripped from his arm, the wolf reverted back to human form. He then explained to the priest how he had been cursed since childhood and had turned into a werewolf during a full moon ever since. It was only with the loss of blood, that the man was able to break the curse.
Believe it or not. As for monsters in Italy, it appears that the best ones, the most fantastic, seem those that come from the imagination. Italians seem to love their myths rather than actual monsters. Yes, monsters may exist in Italy, but the chances of a tourist running into one while on a Venetian goldola seem pretty slim. Without a doubt, Italians would rather spend their time drinking a cup of espresso or gazing out at the Arno, rather than spending a night in the cold, in some spooky forest, searching for a hairy beast. And of course, who would blame them.