Speaking of ghosts, the second half of this work evokes the spirit of Kaplan’s famous “Balkan Ghosts: A Journey Through History” (1993), which covered much of the same geography. “Balkan Ghosts” received widespread acclaim worldwide, but was less warmly received by professional historians. Among the latter, Kaplan singles out Noel Malcolm, who “wrote a devastatingly harsh review” because “Balkan Ghosts” “didn’t come close to meeting Malcolm’s standards of objectivity and research.” But “my initial anger at the review gave way over time to a deliberate decision to learn from such criticism.” Elsewhere, he writes: “I have quietly decided from now on to examine the best works of academia, both in history and political science.” True to his word, Kaplan uses Malcolm’s own scholarly study of the Bruni and Bruti families from the 16th century (“Agents of Empire”).
But while many academic historians have been critical of Kaplan, he shows nothing but admiration for the best of them. “How I regret not continuing my education after college and toward a Ph.D.…I would like to dig deep and narrow as an archaeologist, to illuminate something both profound and panoramic.” The historical scope of Kaplan’s canvas is enormous, but he is working hard to draw the fruits of modern historical scholarship, which is rare among popular authors and deserves much praise.
In my opinion, as an academic and specialist in medieval and early modern Venice, Kaplan has come a long way to achieve his goal. Academic history is difficult – often written in precise and specialized terms for other historians. Undeterred, Kaplan brings to his reader (in digestible forms) scientists such as Peter Brown, Norman Davies, Deborah Deliyannis, Peter Frankopan, Judith Herrin, Frederic Lane, Philip Mansel, Francis Oakley, Chris Wickham, and others. They enrich his story and enliven his descriptions.
But still. Kaplan’s personal affinity with the Balkans leaves a noticeable blind spot when it comes to Venice. With a few exceptions, all the destinations in this book were once part of the maritime empire of Venice. Venetian architecture, especially in Dalmatia and Corfu, is described, but its implications are not. While Kaplan is certainly right that “most of the output in the humanities is notoriously spoiled by jargon,” there remains an astonishing amount of serious modern scholarship about Venice and its Stato da Mar† This is not thought about. Instead, Kaplan relies on older works by Mary McCarthy, John Julius Norwich, and Jan Morris. Had he taken a look at the State Archives in the Frari or the Marciana Library on the Piazzetta San Marco during his stay in Venice, Kaplan would have discovered a hive of international scholars delving into the fascinating and complex history of this unique republic. . Without those insights, the medieval Venetians of Kaplan are flat, lifeless, and too easy to define. “Pragmatism, of both the ruthless and the enlightened variety, was the guiding spirit of medieval Venice.” Real? Can a people, especially one as diverse as the Venetians, be so summarily dismissed? Realism, Kaplan reports, “was the only true religion of Venice.” Why then did they build more than a hundred churches and monasteries? This is part of Venice’s famous “anti-myth” that the backstabbing Venetians were a nation of Shylocks who always demanded their pound of flesh.
