A quality not much considered here in the past, how often a work is likely be taken from the shelf, prompts me to put Saskia's Hin's The Demography of Roman Italy Footnote ¹ in first position. For that depends in turn on how reliable, clear, and broad of outlook the chapters are, and where they lead the reader. Though dry and plain it might seem (for all the developing technologies), the subject moves directly towards a hot, polarized topic – ‘the Roman economy’ and its development – with oscillation between extreme positions. It is a particular merit, then, to put forward a fresh view (though previously adumbrated elsewhere) that is not extreme and must be taken seriously. That is where Hin will take historians. But the book is structured in three sections: economic and ecological parameters, demographic parameters (morality, fertility, and migration), and population size. The separate chapters are well supported from a variety of evidence, judiciously treated and well written up. That on climate, with a mildly positive conclusion, needed no apology. If I have a complaint is it about the index: dive into a passage involving ‘Brass modelling’ and you will have to rummage back in the text (111) for hope of identifying it.

The word ‘laminated’ occurred in two ways on feeling the texture of Polybius and His World, edited by Bruce Gibson and Thomas Harrison.Footnote ² First, it began in 2007 as a celebration of an eminent historian, who through technology was able to appear in absentia, and it has gracefully become Essays in Memory of F. W. Walbank, with a penetrating essay on his intellectual and political development by the editors, backed up with John Henderson's hypnotic account of dealings with the Press (Kenneth Sisam, advised by Momigliano and Syme) and, to conclude, a touching and illuminating memoir from Walbank's daughter. Again, there are the core essays, coming from the distinguished members of the conference, European and American. Some are on detailed points, and the variety makes it surprising how much of a unity the volume proffers, but its focus on a great writer and his theme (Roman imperialism, its motivation and impact, an irresistible subject for the past decades) helps to explain that. As the editors point out, too, the volume looks both ways, forward and back; intertextuality is a theme, and Polybius himself between Greece and Rome (there are two worthwhile contributions on Book 6) and in his own imagined Mediterranean. Weighty material is skilfully deployed.

Many works are devoted to Roman encroachments in the east; those on a steady state are far fewer. All the more welcome, therefore, is the set of papers edited by Peter Thonemann in Attalid Asia Minor.Footnote ³ How steady the state was is considered in a tripartite treatment (ideology, economy, coercion). Thonemann's own essay stresses a cellular structure, fiscal and other devolution (in which royal domesticity played its part), benefactions to the Greeks, and the non-absolutist ideology of the cistophoroi in a virtual koinon. John Ma's paper offers an illuminating military history, and Boris Chrubasik considers the continuing (inter-)relationship between Attalids and Seleucids, even after 188 bc. From Chapter 3, readers must note the subtitle, in which money comes first. The remaining five essays consider Rome's attitude to Attalid wealth (Philip Kay), the question of the closed currency system (Andrew Meadows’ very solid contribution), quantification of Attalid and neighbouring coinages (François de Callataÿ), the cistophoric weight-standard outside the kingdom (Richard Ashton), and Attic-weight tetradrachms from Attalid Asia Minor in Seleucid Syria (Selene Psoma). This recital reveals a set of closely argued and scrupulously researched papers (not always easy reading) in which the authors profitably expound and espouse their different theses. The maps are excellent, too.

Now to Rome the dominatrix. Myles Lavan's Slaves to Rome Footnote ⁴ is an invaluable work, and one that should lead him on to others. Using a wide range of Latin literature he convincingly brings out slavery as a prime way for Romans themselves, from the mid-first century bc to the end of the second after Christ, to think about their imperium. Others, though carefully examined, give way to it. That exposes the aims of Roman imperialism and its reception, recently cast in a sunny light. Comparatively few pages are devoted explicitly to that subject; perhaps a main theme is being kept in the background in the interests of the original thesis. But that is necessary, given the solidity of this treatment, using both close reading and a synoptic approach. The first chapter deals with ‘allies’ (for so they remained); it is a particularly beneficial feature that the book exposes inconsistencies in Roman usage, notably Cicero's in the Verrines and defence speeches: readers will develop their own palate. Then comes the core: the language of slavery and the illusion of freedom. Close study of paradigmatic slavishness in Tacitus is particularly rewarding. The last three chapters offer (binding) benefaction and patronage, an idea that the author profitably refines.

Beyond Anatolia and on the boundary of Roman influence, Andrew M. Smith II has a recalcitrant subject, however cautiously titled, in Roman Palmyra. Identity, Community, and State Formation.Footnote ⁵ Fortunately he has two guiding principles: obviously to scrutinize the evidence, especially epigraphic; secondly to deny any rigid differentiation between agriculturalists and pastoralists, allowing himself greater flexibility than some predecessors have enjoyed. He sometimes has to confess himself defeated, and the categories he employs – notably tribalism, family, clan, and the like – demand laborious verbal examination. (Both his principles involve a degree of repetition.) All the same, as he progresses from tribalism through community to Palmyra as a religious and economic centre he establishes a secure footing for his conclusions, unsurprising though some are. We owe him a debt of gratitude for his unvarnished Palmyra with the family ever significant. Given his examination of that, and the subordination of its female members, in spite of financial autonomy and religious functions, the role of Zenobia remains a surprise.

A comprehensive title conceals Jörg Rüpke's original path into Religion in Republican Rome; it is the subtitle that reveals the difficult track we are to follow: Rationalization and Ritual Change.Footnote ⁶ One difficulty is obvious at once: the book is about change and begins in the archaic period. The author's work has been long gestating (since 2002–3) and he has already contributed a number of articles, some ten of which have been adapted or used for the present volume. It is a rewarding approach, with great explanatory power. In fact, once considered, it seems compelling, along with ‘systemization’. But it remains surprising to read that ‘A serious history of republican religion has not been written’ (4). The attendant note refers to works of Mary Beard, John North, and Simon Price which ‘indicate problems and point to mutually exclusive hypotheses rather than attempt a narrative in many instances’, while an earlier work of Rüpke ‘does not offer more than a sketch’. Here is something exclusive, where a generous approach is needed. His own contributions are highly valuable, as well as diverse, whether they work through festivals, writing, the Calendar, the establishment of control, the Lex Ursonensis; specific authors are called to witness: Ennius, Varro, Cicero; and the Greeks. The solidity of what Rüpke is building becomes increasingly clear.

Despite a foolish and misleading main title, designed to get the book off the shelf, there is much of value in Julia Langford's Maternal Megalomania.Footnote ⁷ It is not biography – impossible! – but rather, as the subtitle makes clear, a study of how emperors used wives and mothers to their own advantage. We must not take historians and ‘propaganda’ at face value, but ask what they tell us about the authors and their attitudes to the woman's male relatives, an approach that has rightly won much support since the publication of Catharine Edwards’ Politics of Immorality in Ancient Rome (Cambridge, 1993). For all the empress's visibility, it does not indicate personal control. Grandiose titles, used by populations, ‘show that they were ready to engage [in] ideological negotiations’ (5). Previous scholars have failed to recognize the importance of rhetoric in the sources. That remains a matter of opinion. More important is Langford's painstaking use of numismatic evidence (see the Appendices), in particular for determining what messages were intended for the military, while Domna's piano treatment at the beginning of Severus’ reign represents efforts to hide dynastic plans – which some types nevertheless betray. What Langford brings out is worthwhile but cannot be all: this was a real woman.

Clifford Ando makes the difficulties of his task in producing Imperial Rome AD 193 to 284. The Critical Century Footnote ⁸ quite clear. First it is part of a series, and the subject has been touched by other scholars, such as David Potter. Ando's own references to such predecessors are respectful, earning him additional respect. Then there is the problem of welding together fragmentary narratives and states of an extraordinarily diverse realm, given the sources (Dio's explanation of the citizenship grant is singled out for criticism). Finally, the aged elephant of ‘crisis’ he deftly lassoes with his subtitle and puts on view in the conclusion. Ando has little patience with the wilful campaigning of the Severans as a source of financial and manpower problems, and one must share his attitude. He stresses as a positive factor the way in which Rome's subjects bought into her inherited system. The thematic chapters – ‘Law and Citizenship’, ‘Religion’, ‘Government and Governmentality’ – work well with those on trains of events, so that one arrives at Diocles after a comparatively smooth ride, due in part to the excellence of the writing. Well-spaced-out photos and excellent maps are another help; likewise a chronology and a list of emperors and usurpers.

So we come to a perennially popular subject, but what makes David Potter's Constantine the Emperor Footnote ⁹ especially attractive is its measured text – thirty-three quite brief chapters in eight parts, some with banal titles – and calm presentation: it will be an acceptable read to general readers as well as useful to scholars and students. Potter takes them through the career and reign with lucid explanations of the gritty problems they must meet on the way. There is a shift from focusing on Constantine's Christianity: conversion was ‘a journey over time and in his own mind’ (159). Here primarily is a first-class commander and an emperor preoccupied with dynastic succession and, following the popular morality of the day, with fair dealings for his subjects. For Potter admires the man and (it might be argued) plays down his ruthless ambition and mercilessness towards members of his family. The author, besides displaying mastery of the main subject, offers wide views of the empire, nice aperçus, and a humane approach, with reproof for those who find sources of modern ill in the ancient world. Considering the target of the book, one might have hoped for greater generosity and brightness with the illustrations (even the maps are small-scale). But it is very inexpensive.

We turn back in time to a translation: Rome's Italian Wars, J. C. Yardley's version of Livy, Books 6–10.Footnote ¹⁰ Oxford World's Classics completes its rendering of the history, and is much to be congratulated on doing so. Yardley has also translated two other volumes in the series, providing some consistency; Dexter Hoyos, who introduced Hannibal's War, has written introduction and notes for the present volume too. This book, covering the spread of Roman power over Italy and the struggles of individuals and classes at home (plus ça change), is instructive as well as entertaining, and it has benefited from the availability of Stephen Oakley's commentary (Oxford, 1997–2005). Yardley’ translation is plain and straightforward, an easy read, with only the occasional yielding to exclamation marks, and Hoyos’ introduction and notes – bringing out Livy's difficulties, his strengths and weaknesses – are equally clear. One Valerius Maximus in Tiberius’ reign rather patronizes readers, but they will be glad of the chronology, maps, and glossary.

Readers will like to know that Gordon Kelly's A History of Exile in the Roman Republic has been issued as a paperback; the original was reviewed here in 2008.Footnote ¹¹