Quodvultdeus of Carthage is the nearly man of late ancient Christianity. Figuratively, in that he is an understudied witness to the transformation of the fifth-century Roman West, and literally, since his authorship of a substantial textual corpus – perhaps thirteen sermons and a massive exegetical treatise, the Book on the promises and predictions of God – remains a matter of debate. As a rare English-language monograph devoted to Quodvultdeus, David Vopřada's book on Christian formation in the bishop's sermons makes several meaningful contributions. After a historical excursus (ch. i), ch. ii provides a shrewd and lucid introduction to the bishop of Carthage and his works, including a strong (though still inevitably speculative) case for the validity of this attribution as against recent agnosticism (including mine). Ch. iii similarly summarises what we know of pre-baptismal procedure in North Africa, largely from Augustine. Part ii then walks the reader through the stages of preparation – the catechumenate (ch. iv), renunciation of the devil (ch. v) and baptism itself (ch. vi) – setting each individual pre-baptismal sermon in its specific liturgical context. These discussions will be required reading for historians keen merely to skim these texts for references to life in 430s Carthage. Part iii discusses Quodvultdeus’ use of typology to collapse Old and New Testament time and the rites which the candidate was undergoing in the here and now (ch. vii), and the bishop's attacks on religious rivals in these sermons (ch. viii). Vopřada seeks to defend Quodvultdeus' violent rhetoric as explained by the sermons’ educational purpose. He is right that the dehumanisation of heretics, pagans and Jews was primarily a means to shape the candidates as Nicene Christians, but I am not convinced that this should stop us from calling these sermons ‘polemical’ or their preacher a ‘polemicist’. In this chapter, as in the epilogue, the author's deep sympathy for his subject and his teachings is obvious; it is made explicit at p. 46, with the claim that a theologian's pursuit of revealed truth requires them to ‘choose sides as [they find] one or other form of doctrine part of the “rule of faith”, or not’. Partly as a result, recent developments in historical scholarship are acknowledged, but held at arm's length: Arians really were Arians and the Vandals really were violent persecutors (pp. 46–56). Likewise, although the book brilliantly evokes the intense dramaturgy of Christian initiation in 430s Carthage, its desire to present the bishop's construction of a Christian community as a success story (for example, at p. 307) rather shuts down interpretive possibilities (for example, at p. 150: ‘these rites … must have left a deep and remaining impression on the candidates’). The possibility that some might have been reluctant or going through the motions is acknowledged – both by Quodvultdeus and Vopřada – but safely contained. How might we read Quodvultdeus’ approach in these sermons if we imagined a more sceptical audience or a less effective ritual setting? This book is (of course) not intended as a full treatment of bishop and community – currently sorely lacking – to set alongside the many recent biographies of significant fourth- and fifth-century episcopal authority figures. Whoever does take on that challenge will benefit greatly from Voprada's patient study – as will many other historians of fifth-century North Africa and late antique Christianity.