Procopius of Caesarea has long enthralled, puzzled and in some cases even irritated the readers of his works. As a – if not the – major commentator on Justinian's regime (527−565 ce), the author is often used as an avenue through which to understand the imperial office, the conventions of historical writing, diplomatic and political interactions and many other aspects of life in the late-antique Mediterranean. As such, Procopius’ writings have attracted significant scholarly attention over the past century. In fact, this interest has only increased in recent years, as is particularly evident in the recent efforts to provide commentaries on aspects of the author's oeuvre, such as G. Greatrex's forthcoming volumes on the Persian Wars and the Prokop und die Sprache der Bauten project, led by G. Brands and M. Horster. The volume under review is a welcome guide to and through this Procopian quasi-Renaissance. The Companion will certainly help many students and researchers to understand the complexities of the writer's corpus, but this book is more than its modest title suggests. Featuring a roster of established late-antique and Byzantine scholars, the Companion goes beyond engaging with the current communis opinio by offering inventive approaches to the author and important reconsiderations of his major outputs.

Alongside a brief introduction by Meier and Montinaro as editors, a general bibliography and an index, the volume's body is divided into five thematic sections: ‘Approaching Procopius’; ‘Reading Procopius’; ‘Procopius as a Historian’; ‘Imperial Themes’ and ‘Procopius as a Writer’. This division effectively splits the Companion into two unequal parts, with the first two thematic sections providing in-depth overviews of the author and his works and the remaining three exploring the writer's complementary authorial personas of historian, commentator and story-teller.

The first thematic section, ‘Approaching Procopius’, provides the context to Procopius’ writings. H. Leppin offers a masterful summary of the historical context, in particular concerning imperial and international politics as well as the looming shadow of the sixth century's natural disasters. B. Croke deals with the literary context, beginning with the perennial issue of how to harmonise the differing tones and objectives of the Wars, the Buildings and the Secret History. Over the course of his discussion, Croke deftly explores the authorship and composition of Procopius’ works, alongside the reception of these writings from the author's immediate successors to the modern day. Although not all scholars will agree with the point, a crucial argument in this chapter is that scholars should not be so quick to assign one of the three sources as a reflection of ‘the real Procopius’. Indeed, Croke sounds an important call-to-arms for researchers to reconsider the interconnectedness of the entire Procopian oeuvre. Taken together, the contributions of Leppin and Croke act as an extended introduction to the rest of the volume and thus usefully equip readers to plunge headfirst into Procopius’ corpus.

The second section, ‘Reading Procopius’, builds on the first by focusing on the writings themselves. In nine succinct pages G. Greatrex provides an overview of what we currently know about Procopius’ life and expands on the chronology of his works introduced by Croke. In turn, the works are discussed further in the next three chapters, which examine the scope, content, composition, publication and objectives of the Wars (P. Rance), the Secret History (R. Pfeilschifter) and the Buildings (M. Whitby). Owing to the differing lengths of and relative scholarly attention paid to each of these sources, it is no surprise to find that the Wars receives the longest chapter: fifty-one pages, compared to sixteen for the Secret History and fifteen for the Buildings. As with the previous section, there is little with which to disagree. The contributors have made these chapters accessible and engaging, but also detailed, in tune with currently held scholarly opinions, and even prescient of the directions in which the field seems to be heading. I have no doubt that this section in particular will become a mainstay in university teaching for years to come.

The third section, ‘Procopius as a Historian’, moves from writings to author by focusing on Procopius as a historian. The opening and closing contributions are worth singling out as they bracket the discussion by situating the author in the tradition of writing history. B. Bleckmann explores the developments that occurred in late antique historiography and does an excellent job of providing an overview of an expansive genre. M. Jankowiak continues this overview by considering historical writers who in some way used Procopius’ works. Concentrating on Agathias, Evagrius Scholasticus and Theophanes Confessor, Jankowiak reveals Procopius’ influence on Byzantine historiography as a source of inspiration, a bank of information and, surprisingly, a point of criticism. Importantly, this chapter emphasises that, unlike modern scholars, Byzantine writers rarely appreciated the complexity of the Procopian corpus and instead often preferred to engage with the works of other late antique historians. The other chapters in the third section all focus on aspects of Procopius’ approach to history, by exploring his sources (L. Mecella), his perceptions of the historiographical genre and its conventions (D. Brodka) and the thorny issue of Christianity's impact on his works (T. Stickler). With the essays of Bleckmann and Jankowiak, this triad reaffirms the need to understand the author's writings as carefully crafted interactions with the shifting contours of the historian's art.

Nuancing this conclusion, the fourth section, ‘Imperial Themes’, broadens the focus to consider Procopius as a social commentator who explores themes of imperialism, warfare and foreign powers. C. Pazdernik demonstrates Procopius’ contrasting judgements of Justinian's efforts to conquer the West; the Secret History is overtly negative, the Buildings is overtly positive, but the Wars can often be read either way. One significant area of overlap is the need for peace, and it is the achievement of this goal which, Pazdernik convincingly argues, Procopius treats as the ultimate measure of rulership. H.-U. Wiemer and H. Börm consider the author's knowledge of foreign peoples. Wiemer focuses on ethnographic tropes used to describe the so-called ‘barbarians’ of the West and notes the military or political dimension to the majority of these descriptions. Börm primarily considers the East and interactions with the Sasanian regime, emphasising, like Wiemer, the frequent use of negative topoi to characterise foreign parties. Crucially, both chapters argue that, although we should pay heed to Procopius’ ethnographic tendencies, his works frequently provide accurate information and are not solely inimical to ‘barbarians’, who were sometimes used to slip in some anti-imperial invective. We are reminded that, just as the historian was attuned to shifts in the conventions of historical writing, so, too, was he responsive to changes in the military and political landscape of the late antique world.

Bringing the volume to a close, the final section, ‘Procopius as a Writer’, examines the author's story-telling. On the heels of chapters that demonstrate that Procopius was not solely reliant on historiographical conventions, A. Kaldellis emphasises the frequent presence of literary and philosophical ‘classicisms’ in the writer's oeuvre. While not all will agree with Kaldellis's conclusions, this essay ably underlines the network of intellectual influences that need to be taken into account when attempting to understand Procopius’ writing. Recognising that we cannot take the author's narratives to be entirely accurate representations of Justinian's regime, U. Roberto explores the characterisations of important actors in the Wars, alongside occasional considerations of the Buildings and the Secret History. In doing so, Roberto underscores that Procopius’ characters, who were typically exaggerated reflections of their real counterparts, were carefully constructed to emphasise the rhetorical aims of his narratives. The final essay remains on the theme of narrative by analysing the entire Procopian corpus from a narratological perspective. Providing a brief summary of the theoretical frameworks utilised, O. Gengler and É. Turquois explore the writer's use of narrators (primarily in the Buildings), time (principally in the Wars) and focalisation (predominately in the Secret History). Through this innovative approach, Gengler and Turquois offer another way for the fruitful comparison of Procopius’ works with each other and with the writings of other authors.

As has been made clear over the course of this review, there is a lot to praise in this volume. However, lest I be mistaken for a panegyrist, the Companion does have some issues. While there are generally few mistakes, there are several minor typographical errors. Additionally, owing to the volume's delayed publication, some chapters are more up to date than others, with the result that various important publications have been used in some, but not all, essays: for example Wiemer uses L. Van Hoof and P. Van Nuffelen, Fragmentary Latin Histories (2020), but the work is absent from Bleckmann's survey of late antique historiography, where some discussion of this publication would have been most relevant. Furthermore, students may also be confused by some of the conflicting arguments expressed in the volume, for instance those concerning whether we can identify Procopius’ actual thoughts across his works. Such differences of opinion are unavoidable, but are not often so evident in companions and handbooks pitched as accessible introductions. That said, these divergences, which are well explained and typically flag up the assertions of other contributors as counterpoints, are an important part of Procopian research and will certainly help students to understand the variety of interpretative approaches possible.

These very minor issues aside, the Companion is an excellent work that will be of considerable use for both research and teaching. In line with the typical standard of Brill's Companions to the Byzantine World, the book is nicely produced and eminently readable. Besides the merits outlined above, the editors should also be lauded for putting together a collection of essays that are largely complementary and represent the cutting edge of the field. Going beyond the tendency of companions to reflect the current state of the scholarship, most chapters – in particular, those of Rance, Pfeilschifter, Whitby and Gengler/Turquois – reflect new and emerging strands of inquiry. While readers of handbooks might tend to pick and choose individual essays for use according to their needs, I recommend reading the work as a whole, or at the least piecing together related contributions. The essays in Part 4, for example, synergise especially well with Leppin's introductory piece and Roberto's exploration of characterisation. In sum, despite their acknowledgement of ‘the intrinsic vanity of any project aiming to produce a lasting reference on such a hugely popular author’ (p. 4), the editors have given us a resource that will surely be the standard introduction to Procopius for the foreseeable future. Although I disavowed any claim to be a panegyrist, I cannot help but end this review by paraphrasing the conclusion of the Buildings: There can be no dispute, but it will be abundantly clear to all readers that Meier and Montinaro have strengthened the field of Procopian scholarship.