di Andrea Romanazzi

Among the most powerful images in humanity’s spiritual history is that of the lost garden. From the biblical Eden to the immortal fields of the Celtic Otherworld, from Idunn’s apples in the Norse tradition to the golden fruits guarded by the Hesperides in Greek mythology, cultures distant in time and space seem to share the same intuition: the existence of an original state of harmony from which humanity has moved away.

Yet a deeper reading of these stories suggests a different perspective. Paradise is not simply a place lost in the past, but an inner condition that can be regained only through a path of transformation and knowledge. This interpretation emerges clearly when we compare some of the most important European myths linked to the symbolism of the tree, the fruit, and immortality. In all these stories, the real theme is not remaining in Eden but leaving it. Not preserving innocence, but gaining awareness.

The biblical account is probably the best-known starting point. In the Book of Genesis, Adam and Eve live in the Garden of Eden in perfect communion with God and creation. They know neither suffering, labour, nor death. Yet this paradise has one essential feature: the absence of the knowledge of good and evil. Humanity lives in a state of innocence that may be described as pre-reflective. It neither chooses, understands, nor distinguishes. The decisive moment comes with the eating of the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge. In Western tradition this fruit has been identified with an apple, although the biblical text never says so. From that moment Adam and Eve’s eyes are opened. They become aware of their nakedness, their individuality, and their human condition. This episode has traditionally been interpreted as the Fall, but it may also be seen as a beginning.

A remarkably similar idea appears in Greek mythology. In the Garden of the Hesperides grow the golden apples given by Gaia to Hera on her marriage to Zeus. These fruits grant immortality and are guarded by nymphs and the immortal dragon Ladon. To obtain them, Heracles must complete one of his greatest labours through trials, suffering, and transformation. The hero is not born worthy of the golden apples; he becomes worthy through his journey. Once again, the symbolic message is clear. Spiritual immortality is not an original condition but a goal. Humanity must cross the world, face monsters, mistakes, and hardships before reaching the sacred garden.

A similar pattern appears in the Norse tradition through the goddess Idunn (Iðunn), guardian of the apples of eternal youth, without which the gods of Ásgarðr would grow old and lose their strength. According to the myth, she is the wife of Bragi, the god of poetry and eloquence. This is no coincidence: in Norse culture, wisdom and renewal are closely connected. The myth carries a profound meaning. Divine youth is not automatic or permanent. Even the gods must nourish themselves with the symbol of regeneration. Spiritual life is not a static state but a continuous process of rebirth.

In the Celtic world, however, the symbolism of the apple perhaps reaches its highest expression. The best-known example is Avalon, whose name probably derives from the Welsh word afal, meaning “apple.” Avalon is the Isle of Apples, where King Arthur is taken after the final battle of Camlann. Its most remarkable feature is that it does not belong to the past. It is not a lost paradise but a hidden place beyond the veil of the ordinary world. It still exists, yet it cannot be reached by ordinary means. Medieval sources describe Avalon as a land of healing, abundance, and knowledge. Time flows differently there. Illness is absent. Wounds are healed. It is not simply a geographical island but a state of being.

The same symbolism appears in the Irish tale of Connla. One day a woman from the Otherworld offers the young man a wonderful apple. For an entire month Connla feeds only on that fruit, which never becomes smaller. In the end he follows the mysterious visitor across the sea and disappears from the world of men. Connla’s apple does not bring about a fall but an awakening. It creates a longing for the Otherworld. Once he has tasted it, ordinary reality is no longer enough.

A final example is the later fairy tale of Snow White, an extraordinary example of how an ancient symbol survived in European folklore, changing from an emblem of knowledge and immortality into an instrument of apparent death and rebirth. The version known today comes from the Brothers Grimm, who published Snow White in 1812 in their Children’s and Household Tales. The Grimms, however, did not invent the story. They collected tales transmitted orally for centuries in the German countryside, revising and harmonising them. The tale is therefore much older than the nineteenth century and preserves many elements of the religious beliefs and imagination of pre-Christian Europe.

Once again, it is the bite of the “forbidden” apple that changes the heroine’s life. She tastes the fruit and falls into a sleep like death. She is placed in a crystal coffin, from which she awakens only later. This sequence is not simply an attempted murder but follows an initiatory pattern found in many ancient traditions: entry into a new state of being requires a symbolic death. The apple does not truly kill Snow White; it suspends her existence, ends her childhood, and places her between life and death. Only after this passage can she be reborn and enter a new stage of life. For this reason, many scholars of symbolism, including Carl Gustav Jung and Marie-Louise von Franz, have interpreted Snow White’s apple not as a simple narrative device but as an archetype of inner transformation. Although presented as a children’s tale, it still tells one of the oldest truths of the European tradition: there is no rebirth without a symbolic death, and every true form of knowledge requires leaving behind the previous condition.

From this perspective, Snow White becomes the final link in a long chain connecting the Garden of Eden, Idunn’s apples, the orchard of the Hesperides, and the Isle of Avalon. The ages and languages change, but the symbol remains remarkably constant: the apple is the fruit of transformation. Whoever takes it never returns unchanged. In this light, we should reconsider the meaning of Eden, not simply as a place to mourn or an irreparable loss, but as the starting point of life’s initiatory journey. This is the deepest meaning of the symbolism of the golden apples found throughout the ancient traditions of Europe, a symbolism that still fascinates us today.

Eden, therefore, is not simply behind us. It does not belong only to a mythical, unreachable, and forever lost past. If that were so, all the great stories of humanity would be nothing more than elegies of nostalgia, memories of a vanished Golden Age. The myths tell something different. They do not merely describe a lost paradise; they always tell of a journey. Adam and Eve do not remain in the garden but are driven out and must face work, suffering, responsibility, and death. Heracles does not receive the apples of the Hesperides as a gift but must earn them by overcoming one of the greatest trials of his life. Arthur reaches Avalon only after fighting, ruling, suffering, and seeing his kingdom fall. Humanity is born in unawareness. Like a child protected by infancy, it first inhabits a kind of natural Eden where everything is given without understanding. But this innocence is not yet wisdom. It is an unconscious fullness destined to disappear. Only by confronting limits, suffering, error, and death does the human being develop the awareness that no original paradise could ever provide. The search for Paradise is therefore not a return to spiritual childhood, for no one can truly return. It is the journey itself that permanently transforms the one who undertakes it.