Three recent volumes indicate a growing appreciation of the significance and complexity of Plato's account of mousikē in the Laws. Anastasia-Erasmia Peponi's edited work, Performance and Culture in Plato's Laws,Footnote ¹ collects fifteen diverse chapters by prominent scholars in Greek literature, philosophy, and culture to produce an immensely rewarding and original range of perspectives on Plato's treatment of performance and poetics in the Laws. As Peponi notes in her brief introduction, the complexity of the cultural background that Plato manipulates and appropriates in the Laws, as well as the intricacy of the Platonic appropriation itself, combine to present a very real challenge to any scholar seeking to understand them. In addition, it is hard to see that any robust treatment of the Laws’ political theory can avoid getting to grips with the fundamental connections between politics and performance established within the dialogue. Any reader with an interest in either Plato's political philosophy or his poetics will be well rewarded by time spent with this volume. The chapters are divided into four sections, which focus in turn on issues of cultural identity (‘Geopolitics of Performance’), the role of the choruses in Magnesia (‘Conceptualising Chorality’), the Laws’ treatment of genre (‘Redefining Genre’), and the later reception of the Laws’ poetics (‘Poetry and Music in the Afterlife of the Laws’). In the second of the volume's two chapters on cultural identity, Ian Rutherford considers the Laws’ representation of Egypt as a culture that successfully resists political and moral decline via a commitment to stability in mousikē. Setting Plato's account against the external evidence, Rutherford suggests that the Laws offers a partial fiction of stable Egyptian mousikē, useful not least for the implications of its possible critical connection to Dorian culture. In the last of five chapters on the Laws’ interest in the civic apparatus of choral performance, Peponi demonstrates the singularity of choral performance in the work. Whereas the Laws treats most types of performance as producing pleasure in the spectator, in the case of choruses, the emphasis is on the pleasure and experience of the performers. Peponi argues that this shift in focus represents a Platonic attempt to ‘de-aestheticize’ the chorus. In this way, Plato seeks to rehabilitate mousikē by divesting it of the psychological and aesthetic flaws identified in the Republic’s extended critique. However, as Peponi notes in conclusion, the Laws is not altogether comfortable with this sort of performative pleasure. In the first of five chapters on genre, Andrea Nightingale discusses the Laws’ manipulation of generic diversity in service of the unified truth represented by the law code at its heart. Nightingale presents a fascinating and original analysis of the law code as a written text rather different in character from that criticized in the Phaedrus as a pharmakon that destroys our memory of truth. Rather, it serves to encourage the internalization of truths by obliterating the citizens’ memories of previous unwanted cultural norms. In the volume's final chapter, Andrew Barker turns to Aristoxenus for help in making sense of Plato's suggestion that music can be assessed as ‘correct’ or ‘incorrect’, or as ‘good’ or ‘bad’. Contrasting the Platonic focus on mimesis and ethical correctness with Aristoxenus’ assessment of music ‘by the standard of its own intrinsic values’ (413), Barker suggests that, of the two treatments, Plato's is the furthest removed from general Greek opinion. These varied and illuminating chapters are representative of the scope and quality of the volume, which not only serves to open up new directions for research on the Laws but also makes plain that the Laws is at least as important as the Republic for a thorough understanding of Plato's views on art and culture, and their relation to politics.

Lucia Prauscello's Performing Citizenship in Plato's Laws,Footnote ² shares many points of interest with several of the chapters in Peponi's volume, not least a central concern with the civic role of choral performance within Magnesia. Prauscello presents a careful and detailed account of the performative mechanics by which citizenship is shaped and entrenched within Magnesian society. By contrasting the psychology of the Laws with that of the Republic and the institutions of civic performance in Magnesia with those of contemporary Athens, she develops a nuanced and compelling account of Plato's position in the Laws. She provides a particularly useful analysis of the manner in which Plato co-opts the Athenian rhetoric of the ‘erotics of citizenship’ to establish desire as a fundamental force for civic unity. In this respect, Plato's Laws has much more to say than the Republic about the role and nature of ordinary citizenship, as opposed to the ideal civic action of the philosopher-king or statesman. Prauscello emphasizes that, for Plato in the Laws, citizenship is an activity rather than a status, publicly enacted and reinforced by repeated performances of civic discourse, particularly choral performances. The book is divided into two parts. The first (‘Performing Ordinary Virtue in Plato's Utopias: Citizenship, Desire and Intention’), comprising two chapters which discuss citizenship in Callipolis and Magnesia respectively, sets out to establish the ethical and psychological foundations for ‘ordinary citizenship’ in the Laws. Prauscello notes that the Republic has a complex account of erōs, in which genuine erōs is restricted to philosophers and the affective ties between citizens are primarily discussed in terms of philia. In the Laws, however, Plato ‘seems to be more willing to harness erotic desire (erōs) as an acceptable (under due qualifications) emotional and cognitive disposition available to every citizen to promote civic virtue’ (11). As Prauscello sees things, Plato is rehabilitating erotic desire as an effective motivational force to encourage civic participation. This does not, she suggests, imply that Plato has abandoned either the psychology of the Republic or its suspicion of desire per se. What it does show is that Plato is willing to consider ways in which desire for the right object might usefully be instilled as an ally for reason. It also allows Plato to maintain a model of citizenship by activity and, importantly, as a matter of volition, setting up significant contrasts with contemporary notions of citizenship as a status achieved irrespective of civic participation. In the second part (‘Citizenship and Performance in the Laws’), Prauscello investigates the ways in which Plato appropriates various modes of persuasive civic discourse to enhance and reinforce the unity of Magnesia's community. The role of choral performance dominates the first two chapters of this section, as Prauscello considers the way in which the pleasure inherent in choral performance forms the means by which those choruses can represent and fortify civic norms, particularly political unity. In addition, the chorus can itself be used to train younger citizens in the appropriate experience of pleasure and pain, with the same goal of unity in mind. A fifth chapter investigates the way in which comedy is introduced as a performative discourse that allows citizens to further strengthen their collective identity via a rational engagement with what is ‘other’ (in terms of both content and performer). Throughout the discussion, Prauscello offers some particularly useful analysis of the cultural and literary resonances of Plato's account of appropriate civic and choral discourse in the Laws. In a brief but useful epilogue, she sets the Laws within the context of contemporary forensic and public oratory in order to emphasize the significance of Plato's insistence on understanding citizenship as a matter of practice rather than status. This is a deeply learned, enjoyable, and persuasive monograph. It does a particularly good job of demonstrating the significance of the Laws’ interest in performance for our appreciation of Plato's politics and psychology.

With The City and the Stage,Footnote ³ Marcus Folch adds yet another voice to the discussion of the social and civic role of poetry and performance within the Laws (his fourth chapter is a reworking of his contribution to Peponi's volume). Folch shares Prauscello's concern to consider the Laws within both its philosophical and its cultural contexts (if we think that these are separable). Like Prauscello and the contributors to Peponi's collection, he is also rightly committed to reading Plato's treatment of mousikē as fundamental to the Laws’ political endeavour. Folch is particularly interesting on what he takes to be the self-reflexive nature of the Laws’ poetics, not only as engaged with earlier Platonic dialogues but also as presenting itself as philosophical doctrine in a ‘hybrid of poetic and rhetorical forms’ (2). A useful introduction provides both a map of the arguments to follow and some helpful introductory background. The rest of the book is divided into three parts, on ‘Performance’, ‘Genre’, and ‘Gender’ respectively. The two chapters on ‘Performance’ detail the ways in which Plato's reassessment of poetry, performance, and mousikē represent a revised moral psychology. In the first chapter, similarly to Prauscello (but in less explicit detail), Folch assesses the manner in which the Laws’ particular psychology enables the rehabilitation of choral performance as a means of civic habituation via its appeal to pleasure. The second chapter develops an account of the ways in which Plato unites philosophy and a rehabilitated mimetic art by entrenching the central civic role of literary criticism. Both chapters point to the fact that Plato is committed in the Laws to the view that certain harmonies and rhythms are appropriate for use in civic training because of their explicit truth value. It is for this reason that philosophical training serves as a qualification in politically useful literary criticism. Given the significance of Plato's commitment to ‘correct’ music in Folch's account, it would be useful to have a more detailed discussion of the mimetic underpinnings of this claim. The two chapters on ‘Genre’ navigate the complex and diverse sections of generic analysis and restriction found throughout the Laws. Folch first surveys the adoption and adaptation of certain traditional genres within Magnesia's civic discourse, noting that the Laws establishes itself as the ‘final poetic authority in light of which genres are to be deciphered and composed’ (186). Folch then turns to Plato's treatment of un-ideal genres, including comedy and tragedy. He argues that Plato makes room for these genres only in the context of specific performative restrictions (so, for example, only non-citizens may perform laments) that allow him to put them to use precisely in defining the boundaries of citizenship. For Folch, it is in the emphasis on the context and social value of performance that the Laws breaks most significantly with the Republic. The first of the two chapters on ‘Gender’ sets out to establish the position of women in Magnesia, with a focus on their role in civic performance and mousikē. Surveying the vast literature on this topic, Folch concludes that the Laws represents a Platonic aspiration for women to be trained to participate fully in the polis, even in the context of admitting the pragmatic limitations on the realization of such an aim. In the Laws, political office is once more limited to male citizens, and the prospect of philosopher queens fades into the distance. In perhaps the most original chapter in the book, Folch argues that, despite reinstating these limitations on female civic participation, the Laws sustains an interest in the political significance of women's artistic performance in the city. Plato presents ‘a program to transform women's ethical and social lives through mousikē’ (265). Folch reads the Laws as incorporating Athenian civic performative structures into Magnesia to critique their exclusion of women as potential participants in civic virtue. The book ends with a useful synoptic reflection, supplemented by a discussion of the Laws’ own generic innovation, namely law codes and preludes, which emphasizes again the fundamental connection between the poetic, political, and performative.

There is some obvious and predictable overlap between Peponi's collection and Prauscello's and Folch's monographs. Yet each offers a distinct and valuable contribution. Peponi, as the editor of a collection, presents the greatest diversity. Prauscello's treatment is perhaps the most detailed and tightly focused. Folch offers a broader perspective than Prauscello and is perhaps more accessible for a reader just starting to think about the Laws.

Moving away from mousikē, in Divine Law and Political Philosophy in Plato's Laws Mark Lutz approaches the Laws as ‘first and foremost, an inquiry into divine law’ (3).Footnote ⁴ He argues that, in offering an account of the role of the philosopher as ‘guiding divine law’, Plato's dialogue is relevant to current debates about the relative influence of rationalism and claims of divine law in contemporary political discourse. Lutz explicitly represents his discussion as inheriting a concern with the ‘theological-political problem’ (5) identified by Leo Strauss. Lutz takes the Minos as the starting point for his approach to the Laws, arguing that, whether it is Platonic or Plato, it introduces the possibility that reasoning appropriately about divine law may provide the solution to the failure of laws to achieve universality. In the next two chapters, Lutz offers an interpretation of the opening of the Laws as establishing a focus on divine law via the views of ‘serious citizens’ (52). This serves as a first step towards establishing the philosopher's authority in offering rational interpretation of divine law. Since both Megillos and Clinias demonstrate that they regard good laws as both divine and subject to rational assessment, they offer the first hint of the significance of the political philosopher as a rational guide to divine law. Lutz moves on to survey what the Athenian Stranger has to say about laws on education, suggesting that they provide further insight into the connection between divine laws and virtue. Towards the end of this fourth chapter, Lutz turns to a worry about the practical political value of an education in astronomy and the like as providing insight into divine purpose in law-making. On the topic of erotic restrictions, Lutz argues that the Laws introduces the possibility that divine laws actually stand at odds with reason, insofar as they require virtuous obedience rather than reasoned compliance. The apparent limitations of divine laws are considered in further detail in the next chapter, on divine providence and justice, and, in his final chapter, Lutz reconsiders once again the question of the relationship between reason and divine law. Insofar as even divine laws are limited in their ability to achieve virtue as a whole, it will fall on the legislator to reason about the application of these laws to produce individual virtues that contribute to the whole. In fact, it is the legislator's use of intellect to produce laws for the sake of virtue that renders those laws divine: ‘by relying on his own reason or expertise in the political art, he can establish a code of law that is recognized as divine by those who have been raised believing in the divinity of the law’ (178). Lutz concludes that the ‘divine’ lawgiver discerns laws without relying on practices such as divination. At this point, the divinity of the laws starts to appear to be rather more a matter of rhetoric than anything else. Even if we agree with this reading of the Laws, we are entitled to ask what it has to offer to our contemporary debates about reason in opposition to divine authority. Will champions of divine law be satisfied with the deification of reason (as opposed to the rationality of divinity)? Central to Lutz's argument is his claim that the common reading of Plato as identifying the divine as rational is not justified. Given this claim, it is a pity that he does not have anything to say about the Timaeus, not only because this dialogue would appear to offer strong evidence for Plato's commitment to the rationality of the divine, but also because that dialogue makes a connection between a rational cosmos and political understanding. Equally, the lack of any sustained discussion of the Statesman’s account of lawgiving is surprising in the context of Lutz's concern with the lawgiver's relationship to universal laws.

In Plato, Politics and a Practical Utopia,Footnote ⁵ Kenneth Royce Moore offers an intriguing attempt to ‘put flesh on the bones’ of the Laws’ second-best city, arguing for its explicit practicality. Moore is particularly keen to emphasize the significance of Plato's project for us as an example of a relevant, practical utopia, although the specifics of its relevance are not set out in any detail. His first chapter sets the theoretical founding of Magnesia against the backdrop of the development of Greek city-states and their ideological frameworks. In a chapter on the ‘economics’ of Magnesia, he extrapolates the details of the arrangements set out in the Laws to estimate Magnesia's population, size, and so forth, setting these estimates against recent research on the development of ancient poleis. Where specific details are missing, Moore is happy to hypothesize the practicalities, for example in imagining bureaux de change for metics arriving in Magnesia. Moore's conclusion on the basis of his speculative analysis is that Magnesia ‘has as much potential for being a success as any other colony founded in Plato's era’ (40). Likewise, his chapter on military service sets the Laws’ institutions, particularly those around women, in both historical and cultural context. It reaches the potentially interesting conclusion that, by harnessing the military resources of women, Magnesia puts itself in a superior position of strength to most real states. A fourth chapter discusses the rehabilitative penal system of Magnesia, noting the ways in which it seems to revise Athenian procedures and institutions and calculating the practicalities of jury numbers and the like. Moore notes the distinct similarities between the Magnesian prison system and its Athenian equivalent, except in the former's distinctive preference for rehabilitation over retribution. He does not go so far as to suggest that the intricate justice system of the Laws is practical, but does moot the possibility that there may be value for contemporary society in reconsidering Plato's psychology of criminal behaviour. In the following chapter, Moore notes the hybrid nature of the Laws’ polity, combining participatory democracy with secret surveillance and control. He notes the significance of the political background against which Plato may have formulated these ideas. In the final chapter, he asks us to imagine ourselves visiting Magnesia, offering a description of its potential sights, sounds, and experiences. Throughout his discussion, Moore suggests that there are benefits in not simply considering whether Magnesia looks feasible, but even in considering it as if it were a real state. What are these benefits? Towards the end of his penultimate chapter, he expresses the view that ‘There are many aspects of Magnesian society that are applicable today, such as careful town planning, quality education, fiscal responsibility, gender equality and an informed electorate’ (94), before noting that there may be even greater lessons in its ‘potential for dystopia’. What Moore does not really explain is how or why we should engage with these ideas as they are presented in Plato's dialogue. If one wants to reflect on the merit or otherwise of gender equality or fiscal policy in today's society, what specifically is useful in reflecting on Magnesia's gender politics or economics rather than those of any other (real or hypothetical) state?

Roman Reflections. Studies in Latin Philosophy is a volume edited by Gareth D. Williams and Katherina Volk and based on a 2012 conference on ‘Latin Philosophy’ held at Columbia.Footnote ⁶ As the editors note in their useful introduction, the emphasis is very much on philosophy in Latin rather than philosophy in Rome. Epictetus features only in Mann's chapter on the representation of Helvidius Priscus; Marcus Aurelius does not even make it into the index. The chapters adopt variously philosophical, literary, and historical approaches to texts, authors, and figures spanning from Cicero to Augustine. The editors position their volume as, in some sense, an heir to the two hugely influential volumes of Philosophia Togata edited by Miriam Griffin and Jonathan Barnes and published in the 1990s. The aim of Williams and Volk is, in part, to extend the study of Latin philosophy beyond the chronological limits of those volumes by developing a broader account of Imperial philosophy in particular. Only one chapter (Hine on the history of the Greek loan word philosophus) offers a truly general overview of ‘Roman philosophy’ as such. The twelve other chapters provide what the editors themselves describe as a ‘series of chapter-by-chapter snapshots, all of which diversely contribute to our exploratory vision of what is Roman about Roman philosophy’ (2). In the end, in fact, the reader is left to do the work of constructing their own account of what they take to be characteristic, and characteristically Roman, about the philosophies and philosophers represented in this volume. Some of the observable tendencies and trends that emerge are perhaps not surprising: a tendency towards an interest in exempla, a focus on ethics, a self-aware concern with doctrinal orthodoxy and innovation, and a related concern with shaping a Roman philosophical identity against both Roman and Greek predecessors. The latter is manifested in a provocatively diverse range of ways. We see Roman philosophoi (Hine), Pythagorases (Volk), Latinizers (Reinhardt and Fletcher), Epicureans (Graver), Platonists (Fletcher), and Sceptics (Vogt). The chapters are divided more or less chronologically, and it is notable that Seneca dominates the volume, not least by featuring in two of the four section headings: ‘Orientation’, ‘The Late Republic’, ‘Seneca’, and ‘Beyond Seneca’. Stacking up against the five chapters on Seneca are two dedicated to Cicero and one shared between Cicero and Lucretius (who features significantly in only one other, as foil for Seneca), in addition to chapters on Apuleius, Augustine, and Epictetus. As one would expect, even the ‘snapshots’ offered by different chapters on the same author provide usefully stimulating variety. So James Zetzel's chapter scrutinizing the reality of Cicero's self-representation as a philosophical trailblazer (‘Philosophy is in the Streets’) argues that Cicero partially misrepresents earlier Roman philosophers in a manner that minimizes the significance of practical ethics aimed at the man on the street. Zetzel's Cicero is in some sense deliberately isolating himself from certain philosophical traditions. Gretchen Reydams-Schils (‘Teaching Pericles: Cicero on the Study of Nature’), meanwhile, argues that there is rather more continuity between Cicero and certain philosophical traditions than is often recognized. For while Cicero does negotiate and question the connection between ethics and physics in Stoicism, he does not sever the two as completely as is sometimes suggested. In fact, Reydams-Schils argues, he demonstrates a particular interest in the study of nature as a route to understanding social virtue. The volume makes the case for new directions of study (for example, in Volk's treatment of Roman Pythagoras, Riggsby's application of cognitive linguistics to Seneca's use of metaphor, and Fletcher's reconstruction of Apuleius’ translation of the Phaedo). It also presents innovative contributions to established debates. In the last chapter in the Seneca section, Margaret Graver approaches the question of Seneca's attitude towards and use of Epicurus in the Epistulae Morales. She argues persuasively that Seneca is particularly attracted to the educative methodology of Epicureanism as valuable for the protreptic agenda of the Epistulae, even if he does not accept the ethical message of Epicureanism. In the final chapter in the volume, Katja Maria Vogt represents Augustine as both concerned with an earlier tradition of Academic scepticism and in debate with a more novel ‘external world’ sceptic, partly of his own creation. Augustine translates and shifts the focus of the critique of scepticism. In doing so, he places himself at the start of an enduring debate about the relation of the mind to itself and to everything else. He also perhaps has a role in the resulting minimization of the normative questions typical of ancient scepticism. The editors rightly note the practical limitations that prevent them from offering comprehensive coverage of the multitude of philosophical figures and positions one might be tempted to place under the heading ‘Latin Philosophy’. Nevertheless, this volume presents a selection of enjoyable and varied approaches to the vast array of material available and will be sure to offer something of value to any reader with an interest in the specific authors covered or in the development of ancient philosophical traditions in general.

As scholarship on Neoplatonist philosophy continues to thrive, it is likely that more novices in the field will find themselves looking for material to help them situate themselves in what can sometimes appear a dauntingly vast and unfamiliar area of ancient philosophy. With All From One. A Guide to Proclus,Footnote ⁷ editors Pieter d'Hoine and Marije Martijn bring together leading scholars on Proclus and Neoplatonism to produce an immensely useful state-of-the-art guide to Proclus’ thought. The volume offers comprehensive coverage, with chapters on general issues, such as Proclus’ biography, relation to the Platonic tradition, and legacy, alongside treatments of specific areas of his thought, including ontology, psychology, epistemology, ethics, and aesthetics. The individual chapters provide useful and learned orientations in these different areas and the volume as a whole would be of value to anyone with an interest in Proclus or Neoplatonism in general, including undergraduates and general readers. Two appendices supplement the volume. The first tabulates Proclus’ metaphysical and theological systems as they are presented across his different works. The second provides an extremely useful guide to Proclus’ works and their availability (in translation or otherwise).

The ‘Ancient Commentators on Aristotle’ project continues to produce its hugely valuable translations, rendering accessible, and introducing a new readership to, a multitude of philosophical texts from late antiquity. The 103rd volume in the series is Michael Griffin's translation (with useful introduction) of Olympiodorus’ On Plato First Alcibiades 10–28,Footnote ⁸ completing the work of Griffin's 2015 translation of the first nine lectures and Life of Plato. The project's 104th volume is a collaborative translation of Priscian's Answers to King Khosroes of Persia.Footnote ⁹ This is a remarkable work of scholarship, based as it is on a relatively confused Latin translation of the lost Greek work. The translators have had to work hard to reconstruct the sense of the original Greek in translating the Latin translation. The availability of Priscian's text in translation is particularly welcome, representing as it does one of the first works of Greek philosophy written for another culture.