History of the Adriatic

This History of the Adriatic is a wonderful book, and its author, one of the most prolific scholars of the region, has accomplished a truly magnificent feat: Egidio Ivetić has written a thoughtful, lucid, and magisterial synthesis of the Adriatic, which he calls “the Mediterranean Sea on a smaller scale” (2). Originally published in Italian under the title Storia dell’Adriatico (Bologna: Il Mulino, 2019), for its English translation—a masterpiece of that craft accomplished by Geraldine Ludbrook—Polity Press and the Società Dalmata di Storia Patria are to be commended for rendering this volume available in English. Ivetić’s account provides an up-to-date history of the Adriatic that, once considered together with the dense French-language Histoire de l’Adriatique (Paris: Seuil, 2001) edited by Pierre Cabanés, serves as the go-to standard textbook of the region.The book itself is organized into an introductory segment (1–11), in which Ivetić contextualizes his account and places it in the wider framework of the field. Apart from the (inevitable) consideration of Fernand Braudel, the more recent conceptual contributions by Peregrine Horden and Nicholas Purcell, as well as by David Abulafia are discussed too. As such, the introduction also functions as an essay on and in Adriatic history and historiography. Chapter 1 (12–35) furnishes the reader with essential geographic and hydrographic information, “zooming” in and out and providing detailed information about what Ivetić insightfully labels the “system of regions” that constituted the subunits of the Adriatic (18–26). Rounding off this chapter are several reflections on the “Adriatic world” (26–35), which functions like a bridge to the chronological account of the sea’s human history.Each of the successive chapters deals with ever-shorter periods. Chapter 2, entitled “The Upper Sea,” focuses on the long timespan from 1000 BC to AD 500 (36–75). Chapter 3, interestingly labeled “The Third Antiquity,” takes the narrative from AD 500 to the turning of the first millennium (76–108), covering the (re)turn of Roman rule in the wake of emperor Justinian’s (482–535) conquests and discusses developments until the establishment of Venetian domination. Chapter 4 discusses the turbulent high and late Middle Ages from 1000–1500 (109–59), and chapter 5 takes the reader through the early modern era, whose end point is marked by the Napoleonic conquest of the Republic Venice in 1797 (160–210). From thence onwards, the pace quickens: Chapter 6, detailing the dichotomy of “imperial borders” and (vs.) “national frontiers,” covers a seemingly Hobsbawmian “long” nineteenth century that lasted until the cataclysms of World War I (211–57), and the final chapter 7 takes the narrative up until 2018 (258–312). A very helpful list of the region’s plurilingual toponyms in English, Italian, Slovenian, Bosnian/Croatian/Montenegrin/Serbian, and Albanian (313–19); several maps (347–58); and a detailed index (359–86) round off the publication.As any scholar working on the area knows, really good surveys that masterfully bridge the gaps—truly, chasms—between local/central and social/political developments are far and few between. Ivetić’s History of the Adriatic is as well written and exemplary in this regard as it is a wonderful example of how to craft a transnational and interregionally comparative account of what was, is, and remains, above all, and “despite its borders and conflicts . . . [a] sea of convergence” (vi). And this premise brings me to the one pertinent critique of the volume: while I greatly enjoyed reading every page, this synthetic account is extremely conventional in its periodization. Sure, textbooks and overviews tend to follow established conventions, and there are editorial and related considerations to adhere to—but the discrepancy between “the Third Antiquity” proposed in chapter 3 and the pressganging of the Adriatic’s more recent history into what is essentially a distinctively West European chronology renders the volume a bit disjointed. There is nothing new or innovative in using the time-honored chronological markers of the end of the Republic of Venice (1797) and the beginning of World War I (1914), and this critique is not intended to discount the validity of doing so. But it is striking that in doing so, the volume’s main argument is somewhat discounted. Moreover, both dates are problematic, as their importance only emerged in their aftermath—as a hypothetical, we may ponder the notion of “what if . . . ,” for instance, the Napoleonic order had endured, or how the “imperial borders” and “national frontiers” would have looked had the Central Powers emerged victoriously or, at the very least, not disintegrated in 1918.Yes, history is always written by the victors, and this is not an exercise in counterfactual fables, but it is very interesting to observe that East European Studies appears to be—finally—moving away from its post–Cold War incorporation into what, for all intents and purposes, may be labeled “The Rise of the West” narrative. Ivetić’s account, though, sits somewhere, and somewhat uncomfortably, in between. On the one hand, Ivetić comes out strongly in favor of the Adriatic’s distinct “forma mentis” (vi); yet at the same time, he presses especially its more recent history into this kind of Western master chronology. The contrast between these two tendencies could not be greater when considered in light of the equally masterful synthesis of late medieval and early modern (“feudal”) Eastern Europe’s social and economic history offered by Markus Cerman in his Villagers and Lords in Eastern Europe, 1300–1800 (Basingstoke: Red Globe Press, 2012). Perhaps the Adriatic as considered by Ivetić is and remains an area of transition between, or coexistence of, East and West and North and South. Yet, this discrepancy between the volume’s premise and its shifting trajectory is never resolved, and in the final pages, Ivetić introduces yet another theme: the Adriatic Sea itself is “a constant of the past,” which means that all peoples, “civilizations, empires and states . . . are the protagonists of this history, of this sea and of a common cultural patrimony.” It almost seems as if, “like the Mediterranean,” the Adriatic was (is) everything at once—or nothing at all (both quotations at 312).These quibbles notwithstanding, Ivetić’s volume is the result of decades of scholarship, and its author is to be commended for this accomplishment, as is Geraldine Ludbrook for the wonderful translation. If there is one thing that bothers this reviewer, it is that Ivetić, while firmly taking a stance with respect to the Adriatic’s distinctiveness, has not gone far enough as regards the implications of this premise. Perhaps this will be remedied in future editions

Ancient history · Archaeology · Civilization · History · Maritime and Coastal Archaeology

• On the natural border

  Open Access•Matteo Proto, Francesco Buscemi•Transactions of the Institute of…•2025

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