Meet Cardinal Ippolito II d’Este (1509-72) the moving force behind creation of the famed gardens at Villa d’Este in Tivoli, near Rome. Under his inspiration, what Joscelyn Godwin calls “the archetypal garden experience” was dedicated to engendering an atmosphere conducive to meditation based on classical themes, the general effect being comparable to that intended by Christian cathedrals.

Then there is Sigismondo Pandolfo Malatesta (1419-68), who is best known as a rival to the Borgias in terms of his vice and cruelty, yet he sponsored the exquisite repurposing of a Christian church in Rimini into a temple to the pagan gods (the Tempio Maletestiano) that reflects a decidedly Neoplatonic influence. Godwin gives a fascinating tour of this structure and shows how it manages to create a unique world in microcosm within its walls.

One of the most fascinating figures in all of Renaissance Italy was Federigo da Montefeltro (1422-82), Duke of Urbino, who caused to be created an exquisite studiolo for his own contemplation and retreat. The room is famous for its wooden inlay panels that surround the room and create the impression that cupboards and shelves are filled with objets d’art, yet it is all an illusion made by skilled workers in wood.

The Medicis beginning with Piero and culminating in Grand Duke Cosimo III (1642-1723) had a “passion for collecting rare and beautiful objects.” A collecting fever seems to have caught hold of a number of wealthy Renaissance figures, and Godwin shows how this obsession to collect was a function of the very human need to create a sort of alternate reality that transports one away from real world cares.

Consider the Tarocchi of Mantegna (c. 1460) which represented a “determined effort to map out the hierarchy of being” in a set of fifty engravings. These should not be confused with Tarot cards nor with the artistic output of Andrea Mantegna, but as Godwin says, this is how they have been identified through the centuries. If one wants a graphic example of the cosmos summarized in a nutshell, this is it.

These are but a few examples of the personalities and artifacts which influenced the way educated people began to change their world view from what it had been for over a millenium.

The Pagan Dream explores two convergent concepts that began to manifest themselves in the creative endeavors in Renaissance Italy. One was the notion that the cosmos has a dreamlike quality to it, and the dream state which occurs during sleep is the source of inspiration and transformation. An early literary example was the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili, which is an extended dream text. The other concerned the apparent urge to create self-contained worlds – alternative and wondrous. An early example of that was The Divine Comedy, and the Hypnerotomachia was actually a pagan response to Dante. As Godwin eloquently points out, “A contradiction runs throughout the Renaissance: that the world is but a dream, and yet it is sacred.”

This is not merely a book about art history but about the entire cosmos, if you will, of the Renaissance. Godwin tells us, “This book sets out to show how the dream of an alternative pagan cosmos entered the European imagination through the visual and performing arts.” And this dream vision seems to have appeared soon after certain Platonic and Hermetic texts were translated into Latin around the year 1460.

The Pagan Dream explores how the restoration to Western Europe of classical learning manifested itself in the artistic outpouring of 15th and 16th century Italy. This manifestation took many forms, each of which is explored in detail – in painting, architecture, gardens, festivals, opera, and in that ultimate – all be it not Italian – microcosm of Versailles.

This is not a travel guide, but after reading it, I have a distinct urge to return to Italy with this book in hand and explore first hand what has been revealed here. ( )