Interview: MK
Trieste has long been a crossroads of culture, politics, and identity. Once part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the city stands apart from the rest of Italy, both geographically and in spirit. In his latest book, Trieste è un’Isola (Trieste Is an Island), Italian author Francesco De Filippo delves into the rich and often tumultuous history of the city, capturing its essence as a place suspended between worlds.
At the heart of the novel is Vincenzo Tagliente, a man who finds himself in Trieste under unusual circumstances. A security official from Naples, Vincenzo is sent to Trieste after getting too involved in a Camorra investigation. Expecting to hide out in a quiet provincial town, he quickly discovers that Trieste is anything but. As De Filippo writes, “Vincenzo arrives in Trieste thinking it will be a place like Rieti or Vercelli, but what he finds is a city with a history and complexity far beyond what he expected.”
I sat down with De Filippo in a bustling café near the city’s iconic Piazza Unità d’Italia to discuss his latest work. Over the clatter of cups and the murmur of dialects, De Filippo shared his thoughts on why Trieste remains, in many ways, an island—both culturally and historically—and why Vincenzo’s journey in the book mirrors his own fascination with this peculiar city.
Your book argues that Trieste is an island, not just metaphorically but in terms of its spirit. What sets Trieste apart from other cities in Italy?
Francesco De Filippo: Trieste is unique in how it combines its urban landscape with a strong social community identity. The moment you step off the train here, you feel like you’re in Austria. The city’s architecture reflects the enlightened and pragmatic spirit of its bourgeoisie, a spirit born from the wealth accumulated during the Austro-Hungarian Empire. The history of the city is tied to this past, and it lives on in the people’s attitudes and in their attachment to the Triestine dialect.
Vincenzo Tagliente, your main character, arrives in Trieste expecting something very different. How does his story reflect the city’s peculiar nature?
De Filippo: Exactly. Vincenzo is sent to Trieste for safety, to lay low. He thinks he’s going to a quiet town, maybe even a sleepy place like Vercelli or Rieti. But instead, Trieste overwhelms him. He finds himself in a city brimming with history and complexity, where every street, every conversation reveals layers of a much larger story. Vincenzo’s journey reflects how many people approach Trieste: with assumptions about its size or importance, only to be captivated by its rich and intricate past.
You mention the dialect as a key part of Trieste’s identity. How does it differ from the relationship Italians in other regions have with their local dialects?
De Filippo: In Trieste, the dialect is not just a way of speaking—it’s a marker of identity, cutting across social classes. Whether you’re talking to a notary, a doctor, or even a regional politician, they’ll speak to you in Triestine first. Only when they realize you’re not from here will they switch to Italian. This isn’t the case in most other parts of Italy. In the south, for example, dialects are often considered more intimate, the language people use to express themselves deeply. But Triestine is spoken by everyone here, regardless of class or background. It’s a badge of belonging, not something people are ashamed of.
Vincenzo’s relationships with the people he meets in Trieste, especially the women, seem to further draw him into the city’s world. How does this develop throughout the novel?
De Filippo: Vincenzo is enchanted not just by the city but also by its people, particularly a woman, who is much older than him. She’s an intellectual, and through her, Vincenzo begins to see Trieste as more than just a temporary refuge. She introduces him to the deeper layers of the city’s history and culture. She is an Istrian refugee, who represents a more tragic part of Trieste’s past—the exodus and the scars left by World War II and fascism. Through these relationships, Vincenzo’s understanding of Trieste grows, and with it, the reader’s understanding of the city’s complexity.
Historically, Trieste has been a focal point of many tensions, from its role in the Austro-Hungarian Empire to the conflicts of World War I and fascism. How do these events shape the city’s sense of being an “island”?
De Filippo: Trieste’s history is like no other city in Italy. The fractures caused by the Austrian occupation created divisions within families that continued long after the empire fell. Then, the rise of fascism and the enforcement of racial laws—early in Trieste compared to the rest of the country—exacerbated these divides. The city has always had a complicated relationship with its past, and this is why I call it an “island.” It has been isolated in both a historical and cultural sense. Trieste has a history that’s not shared with the rest of Italy, and many residents still carry the scars of that legacy.
Your book doesn’t shy away from the darker moments of Trieste’s past, particularly the war and post-war periods. How do you balance historical reflection with storytelling?
De Filippo: I was very cautious when writing about certain aspects of Trieste’s history, especially because the city has a tendency to try to forget some of its darker chapters. But I felt it was necessary to include these moments. You can’t talk about Trieste without acknowledging the impact of World War I, the fractures it caused within families, and the legacy of fascism. Vincenzo encounters these aspects through the stories people tell him, particularly the Istrian woman. Her experiences as a refugee highlight the pain that still lingers here. That said, I didn’t want the book to be solely about history. For most of the narrative, I tread carefully, but toward the end, I allowed myself to dive into more action, almost like a Tarantino film. I wanted to reflect not only on the past but also on the energy and resilience of the city today.
Speaking of today, Trieste continues to evolve. What do you see for the future of the city?
De Filippo: Trieste is at a crossroads. It has always been a place of transition, and that hasn’t changed. The city is looking toward the future while still grappling with its past. What’s important is that it doesn’t lose its sense of identity. Trieste thrives because of its uniqueness—it’s an island in spirit, but that isolation has allowed it to cultivate something truly special.
As our conversation wound down, de Filippo gazed out at the sea that has shaped so much of Trieste’s history. “It’s the city’s connection to the water, to the borders and the horizons,” he said, “that makes Trieste an island, in every sense of the word.”
