This book, with its very attractive title, Italy and the Balkans. The History of a Proximity, may be considered a continuation, from a new perspective, of an old series inaugurated by the older generations of Italian scholars. I have in mind the studies of Carlo Battisti, a linguist to whom we are indebted for many profound analyses of the old cultures of the Mediterranean, not to mention many other studies and books written by various authors in Italy and elsewhere, including in those areas that are usually labeled the “Balkan countries.” Alberto Basciani has a most interesting book referring to the “difficult union,” that is, the complicated and tortuous situation of Bessarabia in the context of Romanian history. Egidio Ivetic is, of course, another such author, in this case the coauthor. Both are known as historians whose activity has been dedicated to the history of the Balkans and/or southeast Europe, the Adriatic zone, Italy, and Romania. With such references for the two authors, it is high time to examine their recent book.As indicated in the introduction, the two authors have divided their work in distinct chapters, without interfering with each other. Therefore, the introduction and the first two chapters have been written by Ivetic, whereas Chapters 3, 4, and 5 are written by Basciani. From the beginning, the old and inevitable links between Italy and the Balkans are explained; ultimately, Italy and the area of former Yugoslavia had been neighbors for millennia, and their cultures intermingled between the Slovenes and the Croatians, as it continues to do. On page 7, the reader is warned about the complex meanings of the Balkans, a region in which the authors also include Romania. But the Balkans are an “umbrella concept” (un concetto ombrello), a situation compared to that of Scandinavia, whereas ‘‘Italy is Italy’’ (p. 8). It is declared, in this context, that the analysis is based on a “aspetto determinante anche se non deterministico” (a decisive aspect even if not deterministic) and also on Geschichtsregion, a region that creates history (p. 9). The case of former Yugoslavia is also briefly mentioned in the final part of the Introduction. One first conclusion is that Italy represents the center of the Mediterranean (p. 12).The first chapter is an attempt toward defining the historical regions of Europe. It begins with a reference to Woodrow Wilson and Tomáš Garrigue Masaryk (two outstanding pillars of the first decades of the twentieth century) and the situation after World War I, a period once characterized as the “New Europe.” It was a period defined by, on the one hand, the huge territory of the Soviet Union as it was developing after the revolution and, on the other hand, what is usually labeled “Western Europe.” The case of Yugoslavia could not be avoided, of course, for this period. Further, Romania (la grande Romania) and Hungary (amputata) were also integrated into a mental map of Europe. The author correctly notes that with the exception of Czechoslovakia, practically all the Balkan states and many other states located in Central and Southeast Europe (the Balkans proper, Romania, Hungary, etc.) had the clear tendency toward developing dictatorial regimes, some of them under the direct influence of Germany. It is the period when, mainly under the influence of German historians, the concept of Südosteuropa, as opposed to Mitteleuropa (Southeast Europe vs. Central Europe), was developing (p. 17ff.) The chapter develops other visions of Europe between the two world wars, but also after World War II, with a peculiar reference to Hungarian historian Jenő Szűcs’s Les Trois Europes (the three Europes) and then to the Yugoslav conflict of the early 1990s (p. 22ff.). The complex situation in Southeast Europe, in a larger context, in Ukraine and in other parts of another “new Europe,” is developed in the final part of Chapter 1 (p. 26ff.), with the (at least) interim conclusion that Italy and the Balkans are neighboring regions but entirely different (the epithet “diverse” is used, in fact, on p. 35).The second chapter (p. 37ff.) is dedicated to the problem already presented in the very title of the book: the historical proximity of Italy and the Balkans. The chapter begins with a reference to the year 1544, when Sebastian Münster’s Cosmographia was published, again referring to Italy as the center of the Mediterranean. The chapter continues with ample historical references to the age of Carolus Magnus (Charlemagne) and even to previous centuries, the period of migrations, when the Slavs emerged in history as a distinct ethnic group (p. 39). References to the Islamic world, Spain, and other parts of Europe make up part of this chapter. The authors abruptly jump to the interwar period (p. 43ff.), to the Croatian nobility (p. 50), as well to various other historical periods analyzed in random order or without any order at all. This is, perhaps, the most unorganized part of the book.The last three chapters belong to the other author, Alberto Basciani. The third chapter begins with a direct reference to the Italian unification and the Balkans, from the year 1861 and onward. A new European state was emerging—or, if the reader allows, was re-emerging—after a tortuous medieval history. It was, in fact, a period when many European states were evolving from a complicated medieval and early modern history, and of course, these movements were welcomed with much sympathy, even if the Italian state, as noted by the author, was feeble, with its only power consisting of its demographic structure of twenty-two million inhabitants—a considerable figure for those times. Garibaldi’s name was already known, and he called for the independence of other European regions as well. The author also refers to the complex relations between Romanians and Hungarians (p. 58ff.). The fragility of the new Italian state is analyzed in a larger European context, as the coming decades witnessed complex evolutions, for example, the Congress in Berlin, which de facto canceled the recently concluded Treaty of San Stefano (p. 63). But as things went on, the foreign policy of the Italian state was developing a peculiar attention to the Balkans (p. 68), noting the ambitions of Bulgaria toward a Greater Bulgaria (p. 71). The final part of this chapter is dedicated to the prewar period, that is, the end of the nineteenth and beginning of the twentieth centuries, noting also the complex problems of Austria-Hungary and, again, the complex situation in Transylvania and Hungarian–Romanian relations. The Albanian question could not be avoided, of course (p. 74ff.).The last two chapters are dedicated to the very dynamic interwar period, followed by World War II and the Iron Curtain (p. 89ff.). The creation of Yugoslavia represented a major change because it included most South Slavic nations, as well as the pending relations between the Albanians, the Serbs, and the Italians, which represented a complicated issue even in the Serbian/Yugoslav–Italian relations (p. 93). The chapter refers to many unknown or lesser-known details of diplomatic contacts between Italy and the other countries of the region that were still in an unstable situation. The Treaty of Trianon reflected this complex situation, in which the old state of Poland was revived (p. 98). The creation of Yugoslavia (initially with a different name: the Kingdom of the Serbs, Croatians, and Slovenes), which included, as the name shows, ‘‘the country of the South Slavs,’’ or Yugo-Slavia (with several spellings, depending on the language in which this new name was adapted), was sent or felt as a trauma by the liberal leadership, with the contribution of Woodrow Wilson, a partisan of the South Slavic cause (p. 99–100). Some polemical considerations with “Anglo-Saxon historians” are also included (p. 101). In this context, a modus vivendi between Italy and Yugoslavia had to be identified (p. 105). Nevertheless, the rise of the Fascist movement, with its strong anti-Slavic feelings, which took place all over Europe, was a major impediment in finding a compromise and, in fact, was the premise of World War II (p. 107ff.) The final part of this chapter is dedicated to the rise of fascism in Italy and represents, perhaps, one of the best-written parts of the book.As expected, the fifth chapter is dedicated to the postwar period. The author finds that at the end of World War II, Italy was a completely defeated and humiliated country (p. 125). The author dedicates several pages to the relations with Yugoslavia, which represented the most important problem for Italy in those times. Issues included disputed territories, the extensive border region along the Adriatic, and of course, the rise of a Communist regime in Yugoslavia, as well as the rise of communism in all of the Slavic countries of the area and, by direct influence, in non-Slavic countries like Romania and Hungary. The social mentality had to solve the cruelty of the Italian occupation in parts of Yugoslavia (p. 127), which directly affected the fate of the Trieste (Trst; p. 128) and other territorial losses (from the perspective of Italy, pp. 131–132). The final part of this chapter and of the book is dedicated to the Cold War and very recent history. There are no general conclusions.The book is, beyond any doubt, a most interesting read—even if some parts seem unordered rather than following a plan, it is to show the reader how the actual history unfolded. The first two chapters (Ivetic) are seemingly less organized than the other three chapters (Basciani), with the final part being, if my perception is correct, clearer and better organized. All those wishing to learn more about the relations between Italy and the Balkans and, by and large, between Italy and other parts of Europe would benefit from reading this book. The book is mainly a view on political and diplomatic issues, rather than the social aspects of these relations; therefore, its target group is mainly historians and politicians, specifically, those interested in the political conflicts in Europe in the area under scrutiny (Italy and the Balkans). Some considerations are (very) debatable, but they ultimately represent the charm of the book, not necessarily a flaw.