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ix This book has been in the works for a long time, and I owe a debt of gratitude to more family, friends, colleagues, administrators, and students than I can possibly list here. However, I would first like to thank the Milwaukee thieves who spirited away the computers and all the backup DVDs containing the first, almost complete draft of this book when they burglarized our home in June 2009. There is no doubt in my mind that it is better for having once been lost irrevocably and rewritten from memory and moldy printouts (though I wish they hadn’t stolen my great grandmother ’s engagement ring). Aside from these kind souls, none of the individuals and institutions named here bear responsibility for this book’s shortcomings and failures, and the views expressed in it do not necessarily represent their own. My wife, Elena Zakharova, has lived with this book almost as long as I have, and I could not have finished it without her patience and good humor. My friend, collaborator, and mentor Igor Pil’shchikov, who broke much of the ground tread here, has been incredibly generous with comments, advice, corrections, instruction, and pep talks over the years. Alyssa Gillespie read a draft of the manuscript and provided invaluable feedback as well as a great deal of moral support. My teachers at the University of Wyoming and the University of Michigan – Lewis Bagby, Deborah Keller-Cohen, Michael Makin, John Mersereau, David Porter, Omry Ronen, Andreas Schönle, Serge Shishkoff, Pavel Sigalov, and Andrei Zorin – inspired, nurtured and guided the project at its very earliest stages. Many librarians and archivists here and abroad showed me exceptional kindness while I was conducting the research for this book. Among them, I would like to single out for special thanks the staff at the Institute for Russian Literature (Pushkin House) in Saint Petersburg, and particularly Tatiana Krasnoborodko, the head Pushkin archivist, whom I have to thank for making possible all my work on the Green Lamp. My colleagues at the University of Wisconsin–Milwaukee are also due my sincerest thanks. Without their unflagging support for the nascent Russian program here and without their scholarly counsel, I would not have been able to see this project through. The UWM Classics Program faculty, with whom I am privileged to share a corridor, were regular and enthusiastic guides to my classical subtexts. Lorena Terando of the UWM Translation Program assisted me with translations from the French. I would especially like to thank Ruth Schwertfeger of the UWM German Program, who commented on early drafts and guided me through the publication process. It was her constant encouragement that gave me the gumption to try to get this book published and the fortitude to overcome all manner of setbacks. Acknowledgments x Acknowledgments I am eternally indebted to my heroic copyeditor, Marlyn Miller, and the wonderful collective at the University of Wisconsin Press. Series Editor David Bethea has been remarkably supportive of the project throughout. I am also grateful to Gwen Walker, Sheila McMahon, and their associates at the press for all their kindness and help. The research and writing of this book were supported by grants and fellowships from the American Council of Teachers of Russian, the Fulbright-Hays Program, and the National Endowment for the Humanities, as well as the Rackham School of Graduate Studies and the Center for Russian and East European Studies at the University of Michigan. I also received generous support in the form of travel funding and teaching releases from the Department of Foreign Languages and Literature, the College of Letters and Science, and the Graduate School at the University of Wisconsin–Milwaukee. This book is dedicated to my grandfathers. I have in my possession two artifacts that were always near to hand as I wrote it. First is Dr. Daniel Peschio’s stethoscope, which he used to listen to many a human heart. Second is a silver cup that belonged to Richard Daly. It is inscribed with a cryptic graphic that reads “SBC,” as well as the words “Dick Daly, President.” My discovery that “SBC” stands for “Stupid Bastards Club,” a familiar society that he founded in the 1960s, was my first bit of research on such societies. I am grateful to my grandfathers for a great many things and can only hope that, were they still alive, they would not hesitate to nominate me to the ranks of Stupid Bastards for having written such a book. ...

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