When Frederick Douglass arrived in Rome, the city, at first, was disappointing. In his mind, Rome was its glorious past, its imposing ruins, its magnificent Colosseum, not the contemporary Rome that he unexpectedly found before him and that was not in the guidebooks he had read. Nevertheless, during his sojourn — described in the 1892 edition of “Life and Times of Frederick Douglass” — Rome managed, as it always does, to win his heart.

Today, many visitors share his initial feeling. The signs, the lights, the chaos and the traffic of contemporary Rome can grate at travelers. But my advice to those who visit is to go beyond your expectations. Rome is like a wedding cake, made of different layers and stories. There’s the cream, and there’s the sponge cake. There’s the Rome of the Caesars, the Rome of the Popes, the Rome of the artists.

There is also a Rome that speaks of the colonialism that Italy imposed on Africa. Think, for example, of the Dogali Obelisk. Located between the Termini station, the city’s main railway junction, and the Piazza della Repubblica, on the smallest of the seven hills on which historical Rome is built, it is an ancient Egyptian piece to which a base was added to make a monument that glorifies the Italian soldiers who fell in a battle during the country’s colonial expansion in East Africa.

We find colonial traces in the names of streets as well. The square in front of the Termini station is called the Piazza dei Cinquecento, or the Piazza of the Five Hundred, also in honor of the same fallen Italian soldiers in Dogali, which is in present-day Eritrea. Today, some people — especially supporters of the feminist movements that in Italy have also joined the fight against racism — recall that there were many more Africans killed during that colonial effort, and argue that the piazza should be rebaptized the Piazza of the Five Hundred Thousand to remember them as well.

Then there’s the Rome of new inhabitants who come from Asia, Africa, Latin America, Eastern Europe and the United States — a Rome that has no precise place but that invigorates the Eternal City with its energy.

I’ve fallen in love with a book called “Termini: Cornerstone of Modern Rome,” by Arthur Weststeijn and Frederick Whitling. The city’s train station is a paradoxical place, where the modern and the ancient are in constant dialogue. Here, we have the remains of the Servian Wall, from the fourth century B.C., competing for space with a brand-new McDonald’s: modern Rome, with all of its contradictions. You will likely pass through this place often, and, thanks to Weststeijn and Whitling, you’ll be able to appreciate the space around you.

Rome is immense. No one book contains it all. But each book can give you a taste of some special aspect of this city. If your interest is Ancient Rome, you should definitely bring with you “SPQR: A History of Ancient Rome,” by the British historian Mary Beard, whose sparkling prose makes the ancients our contemporaries. Your reading should also include the 19th century classics about travels in Italy: “The Portrait of a Lady,” by Henry James; “The Marble Faun,” by Nathaniel Hawthorne; and “Roman Fever and Other Stories,” by Edith Wharton.

In “The Ragazzi” (also called “The Street Kids” in some translations), by Pier Paolo Pasolini, you will discover the wretched beauty of East Rome, which, in 1955, when the book was published, was gritty and a little desperate. Today, the area has changed: It’s hip and modern, frequented by young people and tourists, with many pubs and cafes. It’s also home to several immigrant communities. An important book about this area — especially the neighborhood of Tor Pignattara — is “This Is What I Live For,” by Amir Issaa, an Italo-Egyptian rapper.

I would also recommend books by two authors who love Rome and the Italian language: Jhumpa Lahiri, whose “In Other Words” devotes beautiful pages to the city, and Amara Lakhous, whose “Clash of Civilizations Over an Elevator in Piazza Vittorio” is set on Esquiline Hill. It has wonderful descriptions of its famous neighborhood market, where you can find products from all over the world.

I love the various towns of the Castelli Romani, just a few minutes from the city. I advise you to follow in the footsteps of Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, who immersed himself in the peace of Castel Gandolfo, or Hans Christian Andersen, who plunged into the flowers of Genzano. In Nemi, you’ll find the famous fragoline (wild strawberries) and the marmalade made from them, which is truly delicious! You will find them in every restaurant, farm and cafe in Nemi. In the Castelli, do what Stanley Tucci does on his gastronomic tours for television: taste everything.

“Global Rome: Changing Faces of the Eternal City,” edited by Isabella Clough Marinaro and Bjorn Thomassen, is a collection of essays that break through all the clichés and show us a Rome that is globalized, plural, polyglot and peripheral. That is the Rome that you find in the beautiful “Strangers I Know,” by Claudia Durastanti and in “Little Mother,” by Cristina Ali Farah.

Zerocalcare! A young cartoonist — his real name is Michele Rech — he has transformed contemporary Rome, dialect included, into a universal experience. From his base in the suburb of Rebibbia he talks to the world and about the world, from Iraqi Kurdistan to underemployed youth and the pandemic. He recently landed on Netflix with an animated series, “Tear Along the Dotted Line,” which follows the life of a slightly awkward cartoonist — a stand-in for Rech himself — with an armadillo for a conscience.

If you pass through Rome, a visit to the poets John Keats and Percy Bysshe Shelley, buried in the city’s Non-Catholic Cemetery, is a categorical imperative. The cemetery is an oasis of peace amid the traffic that imprisons the Ostiense area. While there, you can also visit the tomb of Antonio Gramsci, the Italian philosopher, writer and founder of the Italian Communist Party, who was imprisoned until near death for opposing fascism. Somewhere in there is also the spirit of Sarah Parker Remond, an African-American abolitionist and suffragist campaigner to whom, in recent years, a plaque was dedicated near the entrance. If you visit, bring some good thoughts and a rose.

Tuba is a special place — a feminist bookstore in the heart of the pedestrian oasis of the Pigneto quarter, where you’ll find not only books but also original aperitifs and many women writers to chat with. Also not to be missed is the bookstore Griot, in Trastevere, which specializes in African literature and offers a vast selection of books in English. And before you leave, make sure you dive into Borri Books, inside the Termini Station — a nearly infinite treasure trove of books.

Rome is the city of cats. In Largo di Torre Argentina, a colony of felines can be found napping among the Corinthian columns. In Eleanor Estes’s “Miranda the Great,” two cats, Miranda and her daughter Punka, try to save themselves from the invasions of the Huns and Visigoths by taking refuge in the Colosseum. These ancient Roman cats are the progenitors of the cats we see today.

“Life and Times of Frederick Douglass,” Frederick Douglass

“Termini: Cornerstone of Modern Rome,” Arthur Weststeijn and Frederick Whitling

“SPQR: A History of Ancient Rome,” Mary Beard

“The Portrait of a Lady,” Henry James

“The Marble Faun,” Nathaniel Hawthorne

“Roman Fever and Other Stories,” Edith Wharton

“The Ragazzi” (or “The Street Kids”), Pier Paolo Pasolini

“This Is What I Live For,” Amir Issaa

“In Other Words,” Jhumpa Lahiri

“Clash of Civilizations Over an Elevator in Piazza Vittorio,” Amara Lakhous

“Italian Journey,” Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

“The Improvisatore,” Hans Christian Andersen

“Global Rome: Changing Faces of the Eternal City,” Isabella Clough Marinaro and Bjorn Thomassen

“Strangers I Know,” Claudia Durastanti

“Little Mother,” Cristina Ali Farah

“Miranda the Great,” Eleanor Estes

Igiaba Scego has written nonfiction as well as fiction for adults and young adults. Her memoir “My Home Is Where I Am” won Italy’s Premio Mondello, and her latest novel, “The Color Line,” won Italy’s Premio Napoli.

Translation by Gregory Conti