This book, combining introductory essays, translations and philological commentaries, is the first of its kind to be devoted to the Pindaric scholia. Together with the volumes of essays on this corpus recently published by the same authors, it makes a significant contribution to our understanding of Pindaric scholarship in antiquity, and by treating the Lives and the scholia together allows readers to form a usefully synoptic view of Pindar's ancient reception.

Not the least of the book's achievements is to render the scholia more accessible. The introductory remarks contain numerous valuable points about the aims and contexts of the commentaries from which the extant scholia derive, together with an analysis of the manuscript tradition. Especially helpful are the discussions of the oral origins of scholiastic discourse (p. 17), and the emphasis on the dialogic ‘horizons d'attente’ created by the processes of commentary (pp. 18–20). In relation to Ol. 1 in particular, the authors illustrate the similarities and differences between ancient scholars and their modern counterparts, drawing attention to the scholia's lack of interest in parallels between Hiero and Pelops, and in the question of ‘unity’ which in different forms has been so central to modern approaches (pp. 183–4). The commentary also sheds much light on the minutiae of scholiastic language: the discussion of the vocabulary of writing employed by the scholia, for instance, distinguishes between uses of γράφειν referring to the activity of the author and that of the copyist (pp. 217–20). There are also helpful analyses of relatively simple terms such as νοῦς (pp. 228–30), and those such as νῦν (pp. 245–7) and ἐξόθεν (pp. 339–40) the meanings of which are more opaque. The discussions of paraphrase, which bring out its subtlety as an exegetical tool (see e.g. pp. 352–3), are also of considerable interest.

In explicating individual lemmata, the commentary assembles comparative material from a wide range of sources, citing parallels for uses of particular terms and interpretative procedures from Plutarch, Dionysius Thrax and a wide variety of other late Hellenistic and Imperial authors. Perhaps the book's most important contribution, however, is its demonstration of philosophical, and especially Aristotelian, influence on scholiastic exegetical procedures. Ethical formulations in the scholia often bear traces of philosophical debate, ranging from straightforward terminological parallels, such as the use of καλῶς ζῆν at Σ Ol. 1.1f and τὸ ἄκρον at Σ Ol. 1.20b (discussed on pp. 238–9 and 282–3), to situations where ethical philosophy has had a more developed impact on interpretations: a notable example of the latter is the set of readings recorded at Σ Ol. 1.159a–g, which the authors argue were shaped by the Aristotelian notion of προαίρεσις (pp. 422–6). Aristotelian influence is also visible at the level of rhetorical analysis, as evidenced by Σ Ol. 1.20g, where Pindar's use of ἀγλαΐζεται δέ in relation to the rest of the sentence is glossed with the phrase ἐπαγωγικῶς ἀπὸ τῶν καταριθμηθέντων: the authors comment that ‘l'emploi de l'adverbe ἐπαγωγικῶς prête à Pindare un raisonnement inductif’, a mode they proceed to connect with Aristotle's analysis of ἐπαγωγή (‘induction’, pp. 287–8). As well as being of local importance, such observations are part of a trend that has seen scholars pay increased attention to the relationship between Aristotle and the Hellenistic commentators (see e.g. R. Nünlist, The Ancient Critic at Work [2009]; M. Fantuzzi, ‘Tragic Smiles: When Tragedy Gets Too Comic For Aristotle and Later Hellenistic Readers’, in R. Hunter, A. Rengakos and E. Sistakou [edd.], Hellenistic Studies at a Crossroads [2014], pp. 215–33).

Given the range and difficulty of the subject matter, there are some places where more could have been said about particular issues, or analyses taken in different directions. For example, the discussion of the Pindaric apophthegm in which the author is asked why he composes but cannot sing, and responds καὶ γὰρ οἱ ναυπηγοὶ πηδάλια κατασκευάζοντες κυβερνᾶν οὐκ ἐπίστανται (‘well, shipbuilders who make rudders do not know how to steer’), rightly relates the metaphor to occurrences of maritime imagery in Pindar's poetry (pp. 123–4). The authors do not, however, refer to the variations on the steersman metaphor that occur in Plato, where it is used in relation to individuals' control over their thinking, as at Clit. 408b1–2 (καθάπερ πλοίου παραδόντι τὰ πηδάλια τῆς διανοίας ἄλλῳ, τῷ μαθόντι τὴν τῶν ἀνθρώπων κυβερνητικήν) and Alc. 1 117c9–e6 (for further examples and discussion cf. Slings's note on the Clitophon passage). One aspect of the apophthegm's function may be a deft appropriation of this imagery, reapplying it to a subject ironically out of kilter with its Platonic uses.

One of the most difficult scholia to interpret is Σ Ol.1.5g. The scholium concerns Pindar's technique in constructing prooemia, and explains why he employs ‘an image demonstrative of superiority’ in the midst of his comparisons. The scholium's generalising explanation for this technique is ποιεῖ δὲ τοῦτο θερμός τις ὢν καὶ πολύνους περὶ τὰ νοήματα. The authors argue that the final phrase ‘implique l'art d'exprimer beaucoup de pensées … en peu de mots’, and translate the above clause as ‘il procède ainsi en homme ardent, avec l'intelligence de la multiplicité de significations’. Yet while the notion of expressive brevity in rhetoric is a common one (e.g. Arist. Rhet. 1407b–1408a, Dion. Hal. Ad Amm. 2.2), their interpretation of πολύνους περὶ τὰ νοήματα, effectively applying πολύ- to νοήματα, is not definitively supported by the rest of the scholium, nor by some other uses of πολύνους and its cognates (e.g. Democritus B 65 DK [= F 204 Graham] and Dio Cass. 52.41.1, where the emphasis falls on multiplicity of thought in a fashion that parallels Quintilian's famous rerum uerborumque copia, Inst. Orat. 10.9.1). Their initial suggestion that πολύνους refers to ‘nombreuses manières d'exprimer … pensées’ (p. 256) is more likely to be on the right track. Regardless of how the phrase is interpreted, however, it would have been worthwhile to have compared it to other places in the scholia where similar issues are discussed, such as Σ Ol. 2.153a–c and Σ Pyth. 9.134a, and to the passage in Eustathius' Prooemium where Pindaric πολύνοια is explicitly related to brevity of expression (Eustath. Pro. 20: cf. G. Bitto, Lyrik als Philologie [2012], p. 380 for discussion and further references).

While the treatment of primary material is usually thorough, there are numerous occasions where important scholarship is not cited, with the result that readers are presented with a misleadingly limited picture of the state of opinion in relation to particular questions. I was surprised to find no reference to M. Negri's treatment of the editing and ordering of the epinicians by Aristophanes of Byzantium in the authors' note on the topic (p. 149; cf. M. Negri, Pindaro ad Alessandria [2004], pp. 16–43), although her book is cited elsewhere; likewise wanting was a reference to D. Fearn's discussion of the relationship between dithyramb and the ‘circular chorus’ (p. 82; cf. D. Fearn, Bacchylides [2007], pp. 165–225). The commentary on Σ Ol. 1.91a discusses the story that Tantalus was a ϕυσιόλογος, explores the connections between Tantalus and Prodicus in Plato and Aristophanes (pp. 370–2) and offers an explanation of why Tantalus became a symbol of sophistic practice, yet does not mention the similar arguments made by C. Willink in his treatment of this material (‘Prodikos, “Meterosophists” and the “Tantalos” Paradigm’, CQ 33 [1983], 25–33). Similarly, the discussion of sigmatism (p. 324) would have benefited from engagement with the articles by A. D'Angour and J. Porter that bear on this topic (respectively ‘How The Dithyramb Got Its Shape’, CQ 47 [1997], 331–51, and ‘Lasus of Hermione, Pindar and the Riddle of S’, CQ 57 [2007], 1–21). These shortcomings do not, however, detract significantly from the book's considerable, and very welcome, scholarly achievement.