Acknowledgments

THIS WAS a project many years in the making, and its completion owes more than I can say to the colleagues, friends, and family whose generous help made the process both possible and enjoyable, and the finished product far better than it would otherwise have been.

I am deeply grateful to everyone at the University of Virginia Press. My special thanks go to Eric Brandt, J. Michael Dash, and Ellen Satrom for their enthusiastic support and to the anonymous readers for their sharp and thoughtful feedback.

Material support for this project came from a Princeton University Library grant, which in 2016 provided the means for extended access to their collection. Two summer stipends awarded by Loyola University Chicago similarly enabled me to visit various archives and attend key conferences at which I received helpful advice from a number of scholars. Among them I particularly thank Susan Gillman, Lucy Evans, Maria Cristina Fumagalli, and Víctor Figueroa.

Early versions of two portions of this book appeared previously as “Words as Weapons: Gossip in Junot Díaz’s The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao” in MELUS 42, no. 3 (2017): 55–83, and as “Gossip and Nation in Rosario Ferré’s Maldito amor,” in Chasqui: Revista de literatura latinoamericana 45, no. 1 (2016): 65–78. I thank the journals’ editors, Gary Totten and David William Foster, for allowing their inclusion herein.

At Loyola University Chicago, Scott Hendrickson’s support deserves special mention. Susana Cavallo also provided beneficial guidance at various stages of this project. Clara Burgo, David Posner, and Maria Robertson-Justiniano have been valued and supportive friends and important sounding-boards as I have worked on this book. I am deeply grateful to my mentor, Deni Heyck, whose warmth, endless kindness, and sound advice have been enormously important to me throughout my time in Chicago.

A number of other friends were also generous with their time and energy, and put a tremendous amount of care into reading the evolving manuscript. Michael Wood and Sylvia Molloy were enthusiastic from early on, and their support helped propel this project forward. Maria DiBattista has been a devoted mentor and friend, one to whom I owe much more than she knows. Nuria Sanjuán Pastor was an energetic, sharp, and generous reader; so too was Nathalie Bouzaglo, on whose support and advice I have so often relied. I am especially honored to have benefited from Peter Hulme’s friendship and good-humored critical eye. María Gracia Pardo, Natalia Pérez, Víctor García Ramírez, and Eliana Vāgālāu were valuable interlocutors and helped improve various portions of this book. Allyson Doorn’s focus and dedication helped rectify oversights and rid the manuscript of typos and inconsistencies.

Other friends and family have accompanied me on this journey and given me much-needed support of various kinds, from advice and encouragement to food and childcare. I thank Vivian Auyeung, Ganesh Gandhi, Valerie Keller, Mada Leanga, Anne Moffitt, Roberto Martínez Bachrich, Nadia Mufarregue, Chente and Chabela Navas, Michele Simeon, and Michael Wachtel. My love and gratitude also go out to my wonderful siblings, Daniel, Vanessa, and Alessandra.

My late father, Ricardo Mario, was the first to teach me to love and to engage with the complexities of the Caribbean. My parents “in love,” Jeanette and Eric, and my wonderful mother, Rosa Matilde, believed in me and provided practical support cheerfully and frequently so that I could pour myself into this project. This book would never have been written without them; more importantly, I am lucky they are part of my life.

Finally, my daughters, Elena and Beatriz, have been incredibly tolerant of the countless intrusions that come with a project such as this, and have filled my life with love and joy along the way. And no words can ever come close to conveying my love and gratitude to my husband and partner, Ben, who is always there, full of radiant love and a degree of support that is truly extraordinary. This book is as much their accomplishment as it is mine.