Photo Pest: Albino Porcupine

Would it be any less irreverent if I described Milan's Duomo as a marble pincushion? Its uniqueness begs for metaphor. In either case, a celestial being who sat on its glorious pinnacles definitely would cry "ouch!"

Yet again in Catholic Italy, I was awestruck, even before ascending or entering. Only four churches in the world are bigger.

The installation of elevators in the 20th century made it possible for tourists to walk on the terrace and roof where the laborers who began building the cathedral in the 14th century probably thought only angels ever would tread. Everyone must walk down, however.

Napoleon put his force behind the completion of the facade in 1805 so that he could be crowned king of Italy inside but construction of the church didn't end until 1965. God created earth in seven days; it took Italians six centuries to finish the Duomo.

The intricacy of design is crazy, completed with only the most basic of tools: the human brain. Truly marvelous. Critical opinion about the architecture differed in the 19th century; John Ruskin described it as stolen "from every style in the world: and every style spoiled" while Henry James was more on my page: "If it had no other distinction it would still have that of impressive, immeasurable achievement … a supreme embodiment of vigorous effort."

When I framed this view, I didn't realize I would be dining on the roof terrace across the street in just a few hours.

Look closely between the two spires and the snow-capped Alps are visible, as are the entrance and dome of the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II at the center right.

Here's a close-up of one of the more than 3,400 statues (killjoy John Ruskin again: "the statues all over are of the worst possible common stonemasons’ yard species, and look pinned on for show") that decorate the cathedral, glimpsed as I ascended the worn marble stairs to the roof.

An equestrian statue of Vittorio Emanuel II dominates the Piazza del Duomo. It seems almost Lilliputian in comparison to the cathedral.

If you're wondering why all the skyscrapers in Milan seem to be so far away, here's the answer: no structure in the city's historic center can rise higher than the Madonnina, nearly 400 feet above ground. Not even Mussolini dared to defy this divine zoning regulation when he commissioned Milan's second-rate version of the Eiffel Tower which stands more than 600 feet taller. I lucked out: more often than not, mist enshrouds the Madonnina; during World War II, she remained under cover, literally, to avoid tempting bombers.

Visitors descend on the other side of the Duomo where the flying buttresses banned in Florence were perfectly illuminated by the midday sun.

The fact that this sculpture was likely to remain hidden at the time of its creation apparently mattered not to its sculptor. I suppose it's a little like having an artwork in storage at MoMA or the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Possession--which confers bragging rights--is almost as gratifying as display. I once slept with a narcissistic artist who painted swirly nude images of himself; when I Googled him years later and discovered MoMA had purchased one of his works, my estimation of his talent increased significantly.

There's a lot more to see inside Milan's Duomo than Florence's.

As much as I appreciate a good tomb, transparency is a quality I can do without. Beato Andrea Carlo Ferrari was a cardinal and archbishop of Milan who advocated for greater modernity in the church which didn't always make him popular.

If I were Catholic, I definitely would have wanted to spill my guts here.

Get this: the Duomo can accommodate 40,000 worshippers at a time!

The sensibly organized Duomo museum, which snakes along a single level, includes items of greater antiquity than the cathedral.

Evangeliary Cover (Fifth Century)

"Cross of Aribet" (Milanese workshop, ca 1040)

Critters cling to some of the pinnacle tops.

Gargoyles do their job, fiercely.

Superb lighting enhances the viewing experience and exposes the sexism of religion.

"Eternal Father" by Beltramino de Zutti (1416-25)

Woman Carrying Two Children

This trip has doubled--at least--my 3D images of my favorite saint.

St. Sebastian by Pietro Antonio Solari (ca 1480-82)

Reliquary Bust of St. Sebastian by Pietro Rubini (ca 1600-04)

I don't think I've ever seen a stained glass depiction of the Tower of Babel under construction.

15th-16th Century

This replica of the Madonnina makes you realize she's a lot bigger than she looks.

Here's what the Duomo looked like half a century before my parents visited it, when the facade remained blackened by war.

Piazza del Duomo (1905-06)

Legend has it that this adolescent martyr, condemned to death by the Romans for his Christianity in the second century, was beheaded when, after being thrown to carnivorous beasts, the animals refused to eat him.