Acknowledgments

My aims in this book have been to resituate along its pre–nation- state mold an Adriatic region that does not cohere to current geopolitical borders, and to see how some of its most prominent residents imagined possible futures. To undertake such a project, any researcher would re- quire an enormous amount of intellectual, material, and emotional sup- port; even more so when that historian is not native to any of the four countries and three languages involved. I owe many thanks, and now, af- ter more than ten years of language study, research, and writing, it is time to express my gratitude to those whose help made this book possible. First, in terms of material aid, I must underscore the language preparation I received before beginning my research. After a year of basic training in New York, I was sent to to master Serbo-Croatian’s seven cases. This opportunity came to me thanks to Professor Radmila Gorup, Columbia University’s Harriman Institute, and the Foreign Lan- guage Area Studies (FLAS) fellowship program. That a year of intensive language study in actually succeeded in preparing me for my re- search is thanks to the summer language school, Zagreb University’s Croatian language program, and Dr. Jasna Novak. Acquiring the necessary skills for research and actually doing the research are two different things, however. It is thanks to the continued support of the FLAS fellowship, the German Marshall Fund Fellowship, the Research in the Study of Man (RISM) Landes Award for Field Train- ing in ex-, the Fulbright-Hays Research Fellowship, the Delmas Foundation Grant for Independent Research on Venetian History and Culture, the University of Miami’s Max Orovitz Research Grant in the

vii viii Acknowledgments

Arts and Humanities, and a grant from the Conference Group for Cen- tral European History that I was able to spend 2003–05 and the summers of 2006, 2008, and 2009 in Italian, Slovenian, Croatian, German, and Serbian archives and libraries. Amongst the numerous archives and librar- ies visited, I must make special mention of the unforgettable intellectual generosity of the staffs of the Croatian National Archives in , the Scientific Library in Zadar, the Italian National Library in Florence, the Querini-Stampalia Library in Venice, the Italian National Marciana Li- brary in Venice, and the Croatian National Archives in Pazin. Thereafter, support provided by the Whiting Foundation Fellowship, Columbia Uni- versity’s Institute for Social and Economic Research and Policy (ISERP), New York University’s Remarque Institute, and the Italian Academy for Advanced Studies in America allowed me to concentrate on the data in order to write the pages that follow. I remain incredulous at the level of support I received, and I am beholden to all those who bestowed it. Money, guidance, and time are required, but are not enough. I spent the better part of five years in transit between Florence, Venice, Trieste, Zagreb, Zadar, and , with pit stops in , Pazin, Belgrade, Šibenik, Split, Makarska, and Berlin. It is thanks to new and old friends, some of whom are now like family, that I survived this un- settled existence and had the wherewithal to march into the nineteenth century every day. In Florence, Simone Begani gave me a home: I will never forget his friendship and the hours he spent listening to my latest discoveries. In Venice, Roberto D’Agostino and Laura Bonagiunti encouraged and enter- tained me in so many ways that I can never say grazie sufficiently. Also in Venice, Angelo Sampieri accompanied me to the library every day, coun- seled me through rough spots in writing, and let me beat him at backgam- mon. He was and is my salvation. In Trieste, Paolo Tozzi was real-estate agent, friend, and merciless task master. In Zadar, Mirko Čepo (moj heroj) and Mirela Milat (fritulica moja) basically adopted me. Our library days and sea nights are among my fondest memories from this period. I thank them and their families for making Dalmatia feel like home. In terms of intellectual support, three people stand out: Victoria de Grazia, Istvan Deak, and Annelien de Dijn. I came to Columbia University to work with Victoria de Grazia, one of the best historians of modern Italy and one of the most stimulating thinkers on Europe. What she gave me, however, was much more than I came for. First and foremost, she encour- Acknowledgments ix aged me to think beyond the nation-state, to look at Italy as it related to Europe, and not vice versa. Second, she guided me to focus on two things: primary sources and thinking within my own terms. Third, she has been both a relentless critic and an immutable source of support, always encour- aging me while pushing me to work and think harder. How she managed this, I hope one day to learn. In the meantime, I owe her all. From the first, Istvan Deak transformed academia from a world of study to a world of debate. I have spent countless hours arguing with him. I have spent years admiring him. Aside from his friendship, I am grateful for his counsel, not only on the intricacies of the Habsburg Empire but also on how to make detail interesting and history fascinating. Though I still have a long way to go before I am equal to this master, his example remains an inspiration. Last but definitely not least, my friend and colleague Annelien de Dijn has read and reread drafts of almost everything I have written. Though initially skeptical about my focus on such “backward” places as Italy and Croatia, she has embraced my work and guided me as only a colleague can: she has questioned every sentence, every framework, every argument. This book still has many failings, including numerous adjec- tives, doodles, and biographical sketches to which she took objection, but whatever is of merit in it is largely a result of her tireless gift for critique. This is not to say that intellectual life has been watered by only three fountains. In New York, Volker Berghahn, Samuel Moyn, Mark Mazower, the much missed Tony Judt, William McAllister, Moshik Tem- kin, Alexander Cook, K. E. Fleming, Silvana Patriarca, and Flora Cassen inspired and helped me in unexpected and much appreciated ways. In Miami, not only did the History Department give me a great job when jobs were scarce, but its members have pushed me ahead in my battle to revise and publish. I must make special mention of Mary Lindemann, Michael Miller, Guido Ruggiero, Michael Bernath, Richard Godbeer, and Hugh Thomas, who read, commented on, and encouraged my work and professional development with immense generosity. Also in Miami, Brenna Munro and Merike Blofield were on speed-dial in this book’s fi- nal months, always available to problem-solve and cheer. In Europe, Paul Ginsborg, Laurence Cole, Lucy Riall, and Sven Beckert counseled on what I’d written or invited me to speak. Again, my thanks are inadequate, but heartfelt. This book sits in your hands thanks to Larry Wolff, a fantastic writer  Acknowledgments and insatiable researcher, who first put me in touch with Stanford Univer- sity Press and then spent hours deliberating with me about how to revise, rename, and proceed. I only hope I have not overtaxed his munificence. My outside readers, Alison Frank and Norman Naimark, gave numerous and insightful suggestions on how to improve my book. I was astounded by their intellectual openhandedness and am indebted to them both. As far as the English language is concerned, Martha Schulman made sure that my attempts to resuscitate a bygone world were as clear and vivid as possible. At Stanford University Press, Norris Pope, John Feneron, and Jeff Wyneken carefully navigated my Word documents to the printed page. Finally, I need to thank the friends and family who have weathered the storm that is historical research and writing. In the lonely years of writing, Lia Avant, Krista Bentson, and Tommaso Ortino have been my bedrocks, offering me love and companionship. Pietro D’Agostino first pushed me to contemplate becoming a professional historian, then moti- vated me to center my studies on a sea to which I was increasingly drawn, and finally cheered me on when I thought the endeavor was doomed. I feel very lucky to have met this extraordinary man in the hills outside Bologna. My three stepparents, Ellen Wilson, Rolf Rudestam, and Jenna Gibbs, have cherished me more than most people’s natural ones. I have no idea what kind of person I would be without them; I am glad I will never have to find out. Like so many before me, I have dedicated my book to my parents. While most scholars have tales of mothers and fathers providing support when and where most needed, I am convinced that mine, French Prescott and Peter Reill, did more than most to fulfill their parental duties, and all without ever hinting that it was a duty. Words are insufficient, but here are a few: I love you. We did it. Thank you.