This volume contains a powerful avowal: eight leading interpreters of Greek tragedy join forces to demonstrate that ‘archaic Greek thought is an indispensable aspect of the interpretation of Greek Tragedy to which researchers must now return’ (p. ix). The why and the how this is done are clearly stated in C.'s extensive introduction, in which this collective effort is accurately placed within the interpretative history of the genre. As an interpretative study of Greek tragedy itself, this book does not advocate a return to the lost golden age of great nineteenth- and twentieth-century scholarship. Rather it reclaims its right to ask questions that are ‘rooted in tragedy's origins in and responses to its traditional background’ (p. x) and that have been progressively marginalised to works of intellectual history. It is not a matter of dismissing the fruitful and varied approaches that developed since the 1980s and that focused mainly on the plays' political and anthropological contexts, but of integrating their findings with new responses to old questions: questions that were asked through post-Enlightenment filters and which assumed a linear and progressive development of ideas; questions that it is now time to reiterate and answer in our own contemporary terms.

After the editor's introduction (and his ‘test case’ of atê in Sophocles’ Antigone) follow eight papers – three on Aeschylus, four on Sophocles and one on Euripides – of varying length and scope. Each grapples with prominent questions such as the role of gods and fate in human action, the nature and possibility of divine justice, fortune and alternation, human choice, suffering and happiness. Some papers concentrate on specific key concepts such as hybris and atê; others, adopting broader outlooks, focus instead on wide-ranging topics such as the relationship of tragedy with Presocratic philosophy or with fifth-century ethical and political thought.

Aeschylus is approached from three very different angles. In Sommerstein's paper, which focuses on the semantic history and polyvalence of the notion of atê from Homer to Aeschylus, it is shown how the development of the term cannot be regarded as a linear process of secularisation. One of Sommerstein's major conclusions is that atê retains in Aeschylus the same ‘semantic duality of cause and consequence’ (p. 12) that it had since Homer. Very different is Seaford's paper, which tackles a much-neglected aspect in Aeschylean scholarship: the relations between Aeschylus’ tragedies and Presocratic thought. Developing further his interpretation of the action in the Oresteia as a movement ‘from the Herakleitean unity of opposites to their Pythagorean reconciliation’ (p. 17), Seaford concentrates in particular on the significance of the number three in early Pythagoreanism and in Aeschylus. Lastly, Herrmann's chapter focuses on the central scene of Aeschylus' Seven against Thebes, which famously presents Eteocles embracing his fate to fight his brother Polynices. The long-debated question of when and how the defenders of the city are chosen is revisited in the light of considerations relating to Eteocles' role and character, his knowledge and his motivations, the staging of the scene, and the patterns of archaic Greek thought within which Aeschylus operated. Many parallels are drawn with other works and particular emphasis is placed on two specific points of comparison with the Iliad: it is Herrmann's contention that the character of Eteocles is modelled on that of Hector and that the action on stage during the assignments of the defenders to the gates echoes the scene of Agamemnon's helmet in Iliad 6.161–99.

All four articles on Sophocles debate great overarching questions: each in turn addresses anew issues that can be regarded now as core in the history of Sophoclean interpretation. C.'s paper, which focuses on Oedipus' downfall and the role of the gods in OT, represents a clear case in point: by taking the move from Dodds' ‘On Misunderstanding the Oedipus Rex’ (pp. 120ff.), C. highlights at the outset of his article the shortcomings and inadequacy of what is in many respects still regarded as a classic in Sophoclean scholarship. Various passages and key notions underpinning the plays' plot such as ‘fate’, ‘free will’, ‘over-determination’ and ‘divine agency’ are shrewdly discussed and located in the wider nexus of archaic Greek thought. C. offers a reconstruction of what he regards as a ‘plausible account of the picture of human beings' place in the world that is presupposed by the text’ of the OT (p. 160). By placing the central paradox dramatised in Antigone against the backdrop of fifth-century Athens, Liapis's paper revisits the dynamics and the significance of the clash between Antigone and Creon. Liapis's central thesis is that ‘Antigone defies easy taxonomies' (p. 107). If Antigone and Creon are not to be perceived as static characters and their dialectic conflict eschews polarised interpretations, the tension between the gods and the state they embody is portrayed as an insoluble deadlock. The article offers a nuanced reconstruction of the play's dramatic evolution and of its characters' complexities; in particular an interesting case is made for the progressive assimilation of Creon into the Labdacids and their inherent self-destructive traits. Allan's chapter focuses on the theme of Oedipus' guilt in OT and OC in order to oppose the traditional view that the difference between the two Sophoclean plays can be explained according to a ‘developmental model’ (p. 173). Indeed, as Allan himself is willing to admit, the two plays depict the hero's attitude to his past in profoundly different terms: whereas OT insists on Oedipus' acceptance of culpability, OC presents the hero in his repeated plea of innocence. Yet Allan argues in favour of a fundamental continuity between the two plays and explains their variances in the light of their different dramatic ends. Through a close reading of the constellation of issues surrounding Oedipus' crime, Allan defies a progressivist approach to the OC: first by showing how the gap between Oedipus' ignorance and his responsibility is equally central to the OT, then by showing that, far from endorsing a vision of moral progress, the OC is set in a world in which traditional notions of guilt, blame and responsibility persist. In the last paper dedicated to Sophocles, Easterling examines the tragedian's evocation of Silenus' saying, ‘best not to be born’, and its significance in the context of the OC. Starting with a textual analysis of the specific passage (OC 1224–7) and proceeding with a reconstruction of the vast web of intertextual references which the saying evokes, the study analyses the way Sophocles re-casts it in his own distinctive way. As an embodiment of contradictory extremes – Easterling powerfully concludes – Silenus captures the ‘Dionsysiac truth on which tragedy is founded’ (p. 202). The last paper is dedicated to a prominent theme in Euripides' plays: the mutability of fortune. In a parallel fashion to that of C., Lloyd begins his inquiry by engaging with some of Dodds's influential stereotypes and proceeds with a critique of the traditionally accepted view of a ‘modernist Euripides’ (p. 207). By examining the ‘mutability theme’ in relation to the network of archaic ideas embedded in the fabric of Euripides' tragedies, Lloyd discusses aspects generally underestimated by Euripidean scholarship.

Addressed to experts, yet accessible to all kinds of audiences, this volume is in many ways a precious work kit. Those approaching Greek tragedy for the first time will undoubtedly be plunged into the heart of the subject: they will get a sense of the intricacies of the issues at hand but they will also find plenty of reassuring and extremely learned surveys of scholarly trends and debates. Experts in the field will appreciate the vast use of primary sources (tragic texts are constantly brought into relation with each other but also with archaic and classical non-tragic texts) and secondary literature; they will appreciate the wealth of innovative stimuli and original approaches. Whilst the variety of topics covered guarantees a lively reading, frequent cross-references between chapters nevertheless leave the reader with a general sense of cohesiveness. Undoubtedly successful in its bold aim, this important volume will be recognised by the perceptive reader as laying down the foundations for a radical shift in the study of Greek tragedy. Not so much because its contributors investigate the tragic texts through unorthodox questions, but rather because classical questions are reframed afresh.