Taut in argument, eloquent in exposition and well-controlled in its overall organisation, this book makes an important contribution to the study not just of Seneca’s Natural Questions but also of his oeuvre more generally: ‘and beyond’ in the title perhaps undersells the implications that Chiara Graf’s study has for many parts of the Senecan corpus beyond those that she treats in chs 4 (‘Wonder and Exemplarity in the Epistulae Morales’) and 5 (‘Hope, Fear, and the Future in Seneca’s Troades’) after shedding new and valuable light in chs 1–3 on various aspects of the Natural Questions, with a special focus in ch. 2 on Books 3 (the flood) and 6 (earthquakes), and in ch. 3 on Book 7 (comets). Rooting her approach in affect theory, G. is ‘interested in the friction that arises between philosophically sanctioned, cognitive emotions, and imperfect and irrational affects’ (9). For G., the basic Stoic commitment to the rational control of emotion is tested and complicated by Seneca’s exploration of the reconcilability — often the tension-point — between the subjective, para-logical claims of the emotions on the one hand, the protocols of Stoic therapeutic self-discipline on the other. By focusing on ‘the didactic importance of this affective surplus in Seneca’ (14), and through the various case-studies in which she explores the textual expressions and consequences of that surplus, G.’s undertaking is strikingly original in approach and ambitious in its aims. To this reviewer, the readings G. offers of her featured Senecan texts are often persuasive but sometimes more suggestive than compelling; but they are consistently insightful and provocative, and much of the book’s value lies precisely in its interrogation of settled attitudes on the Natural Questions in particular.

Given the phoenix-like rarity of the Stoic sage, that serene cosmic voyager whose emotions are held in check, how is the less elevated Stoic proficiens to navigate the world? The model of a hierarchical ascent in the Natural Questions from ‘low’ to ‘high’, or from the uncertainties of meteorological events and phenomena to the calm consistency of the planetary/celestial plane, is accompanied by an implied ascent from the lowly world of affect to that of emotional restraint and (self-)control. For G., however, that model is challenged by the different valorisation of affect that she detects at the lower end of the hierarchical scale. In the notorious case of the sexually supercharged Hostius Quadra late in Book 1, for example, the reflections he conjures in his hall of mirrors (magnified excitement through magnification of his member) are a perversion of internalised, philosophical reflection in the ‘higher’ sense. But, for G., his character ‘reminds us of an alternative form of affective engagement, which dances across the surface of images without concern for the truths that underly them’ — ‘an affective stance that will be taken up … by a surprising array of figures throughout the Natural Questions’ (51).

G.’s subsequent elaborations on this ‘affective stance’ elsewhere in the Natural Questions yield powerful results. So e.g. stupefaction and anxiety (articulated by G. through Sianne Ngai’s concept of ‘stuplimity’, 56–70) create a form of flattened non-responsiveness when the cataclysm, say, strikes in Book 3, or the earthquake reverberates in Book 6; this non-responsiveness offers a beneficial form of solace, ‘though it is a counterfeit of true Stoic apathy’ (57). In the case of comets in Book 7, ‘“common” miratio’ (i.e. not informed by learned insight) is similarly in tension with its ‘elevated’ opposite (92); but ‘this flawed feeling imparts to Seneca’s readers quasi-Stoic forms of understanding’ (93). This approach is extended to G.’s treatment of Ep. 120 and Troades in chs 4 and 5, respectively, and it could doubtless be applied to many other Senecan works and episodes that are untreated in her book. In this respect, her delineation of this quasi-philosophical impact of affect opens up a valuable pathway for further Senecan research.

But the approach is not without drawbacks and opportunities for pushback. G. seems to envision a split Senecan readership: while the Stoic proficiens strives ambitiously towards the cosmic viewpoint, the less philosophically attuned reader can still take solace in the numbing comfort supplied by the ‘affective surplus’ generated by Seneca’s pen. When an earthquake strikes, ‘the cosmic viewer securely laughs at his fragility from above’ (78) even as more ordinary types feel their fragility in their quaking bones. ‘Nevertheless,’ asserts G., ‘the ethical benefits of both perspectives are similar: the human subject is invited to detach from his earthly self’ (78; emphasis supplied). To this reviewer, the stress on similarity here is potentially diluting in effect: why strain for the edifying cosmic viewpoint if the numbness of resignation to the shocks of the physical world is no less comforting? G.’s vision of similarity between an affective numbness and a ‘higher’ philosophical detachment is perhaps more superficially apparent than a truly substantive equivalence that Seneca emphatically endorses. That said, G. has achieved much in opening up a welcome new perspective on Seneca and affect, and in providing a foundation on which future scholarship can productively build. The implications of this book reach far across the Senecan corpus, and in this respect G. embarks on a storyline whose end has yet to be reached.