In a former quarry in Naples, thousands of anonymous skulls and bones sit in the cool half-light of a vast chamber carved from volcanic rock. Cimitero delle Fontanelle can look unsettling at first glance, particularly around Halloween, but its real story is one of care rather than fear.
For generations, Neapolitans tended the dead who had no names, families or marked graves. Some women adopted a skull, cleaned it and prayed for its soul in exchange for protection, comfort or a favour. This was the tradition of the anime pezzentelle, the “poor souls” whose fate became entwined with the lives of the living.
