This translation comes eleven years after B.'s original, with several changes: Parts 2 and 3 are reversed; the old Chapters 3 (‘Il detective è un re: anzi, un dio’), 4 (‘Turno e la rondine nero’) and 8 (‘Come un confetto’) have been removed; the old Chapters 5 and 6 (‘Sosia e il suo sosia’ and ‘Anfitrione prima e dopo Plauto’) have been worked together; and a new chapter on Roman funerals (Chapter 7, ‘Death and Its Double’, a revised version of an essay published in 2005)Footnote ¹ has been appended. Short has undertaken, therefore, not simply a translation, but a revision and re-edition under B.'s direction. But while the text is described as ‘in some places brought up to date’ (p. ix), the bibliography reveals only one title post 2000,Footnote ² the date of the original publication. That the incorporation of new scholarship was not part of the revision seems an opportunity missed.

The book is well laid-out with a table of contents, translator's preface, author's preface, eight footnoted chapters, bibliography and index. The chapters have been grouped into three parts: ‘Mythology’, ‘Social Practices’ and ‘Doubles and Images’.

Chapter 1 considers Hermes as the god of communication, including vocal divination, linguistic translation and mercantile exchange. B. draws on authors as diverse as Hesiod and Rilke to focus attention on the god's association with the mouth and ears, before a detailed and intriguing discussion of the Latin proverb lupus in fabula (pp. 15–26, similar to the English ‘Speak of the Devil’). In a final section, B. discusses the role of ears as loci of memory in Roman society, with ‘reminding’ described variously as ‘stuffing’, ‘weighing down’ or even ‘pulling on’ the ears (pp. 36–9). While each of the sections are, in their own right, learned and interesting, readers may find the unifying theme of Hermes rather tangential.

Chapter 2 is an impressively broad discussion of paradigms of European folklore. B. draws on Homer, Shakespeare, Saxo Grammaticus, the Bible, Russian fables and Firdawsi/Firdousi (spelled inconsistently) to reveal the motif of the protagonist who manipulates others by appearing foolish. The relevance to the volume's main themes is unclear until the final paragraph: while we do not have written sources for Roman folktales, motifs common to later European folktales can be seen to draw on Classical models. This interesting argument may have benefitted from further examples.

Chapter 3 begins with a long meditation on tolerance and cultural relativism centred on the essays of Montaigne and Pindar's maxim nomos pantôn basileus. Most rewarding here is the discussion of mos maiorum, its maintenance, transmission and manipulation. B.'s identification of various, often conflicting, mores according to social group, brings him back to the theme of cultural plurality with which he began, closing a neat and successful stand-alone chapter.

Chapter 4 focusses on real and metaphorical conceptions of the human face. The absence of reading on non-verbal communication is noticeable here, as is that of more recent scholarship on body language in Roman culture. A. Corbeill's Nature Embodied: Gesture in Ancient Rome (2004) would have been a welcome addition to the bibliography, not least in the sections concerned with public oratory. Welcome too would have been a Roman portrait. Rather than citing Pliny the Elder that the Romans set up togate statues (p. 158 n. 111), an image supporting B.'s arguments might have provided more immediate instruction. Students and scholars of the Roman body may feel that this purely philological treatment offers a narrow perspective on a subject which has benefitted elsewhere from interdisciplinary approaches.

Part 3 brings together three studies of ‘doubles’. Chapter 5 examines the literary motif of doppelgangers, and the themes of self-identity and recognition. Its focus is Sosia from Plautus' Amphitruo, although discussion encompasses Freud, Molière, Dostoyevsky, de Maupassant, Poe and others. From Sosia's use of pronouns, B. argues that he identifies as part of his household, rather than an individual. In picking apart Sosia's references to death, B. steers his discussion towards Roman funerary practices, and the extraordinary phenomenon of professional mimics hired to learn an individual's traits in order to imitate him after death. This most striking of socio-historical phenomena receives only brief discussion at the end of the chapter, but fortunately is taken up again in Chapter 7.

Chapter 6 considers the Epirote parua Troia of Aeneid 3, ruled by Andromache and Helenus. In a discussion which comprises Baudelaire, Puccini and Chateaubriand, B. considers the notion of levirate marriage, and of wives adopting their husband's origins. The discussion of the psychology of protagonists is close and sensitive, but largely without reference to authorial agency. B. presents Virgil's characters as interacting according to internally-generated motives and past experiences. With the ancient author almost excised from the discussion, ‘communication’ concedes entirely to the ‘images and identity’ themes of the book's title.

Chapter 7 reprises themes from Chapter 5, introducing the comic procession (complete with performers in satyr costumes) which could parallel the serious cortège of the funeral. B. considers the relationship between honos and the right to imagines, and the seemingly paradoxical Roman love of mockery and imitation on occasions that we might consider ‘serious’. For students and scholars of ancient social history, this is a fascinating discussion of a theme which deserves further examination, beyond funerals (and triumphs, briefly mentioned). What valuable insights into the Roman mind we would gain if we had a detailed study of the ‘tone’ of formal occasions.

In Chapter 8 B. turns to Petronius, Plautus, Cicero, Virgil, Pliny and other Latin authors to investigate the various meanings of the word ‘argumentum’: proof through inference, ‘iconographic symbol’ (p. 247), pictorial illustration of a story (p. 249) or fable (p. 253). The book finishes abruptly here.

There is much of interest in this volume. It is highly readable thanks to Short's sympathetic translation, and B.'s own engaging style. A great deal of literature is covered, and arguments are constructed from close linguistic readings. There are, however, difficulties, not least in the book's description in the title, cover and author's preface. Only on reaching Chapter 2 will the reader discover that the volume is not a synthesised study but a collection of stand-alone essays on communication, images or identity (occasionally combining two of these topics, rarely three). More problematic is the proposed ‘Classical World’. Although Greeks and Romans are mentioned on the cover and author's preface, the content is dominated by Latin literature, an imbalance even more pronounced following the omission of the original chapter on Sophocles. ‘Real’ Romans do appear occasionally (notably in Chapters 5 and 7), but the Classical World presented is largely the fantastical world of Latin comedy and myth. Interestingly, Short is under no illusions about this bias, praising in his preface B.'s ‘unique brand of Roman anthropology’ (pp. vii–ix), and mentioning Greece not once. Readers hoping for a book on, say, ancient visual communication, self-identity in Greece and Rome, or religious communication in Greco-Roman society, all of which might be suggested by the title, may find themselves disappointed. Admirers of B.'s work, students of literature and folktales through the ages, and those who enjoy accessible studies on the origin of Latin words and phrases, will undoubtedly enjoy this volume; but it seems unfortunate that a book in which nuances of language are so scrutinised, and which proposes communication, image and identity as its key themes, should be so ambiguous in its own self-presentation.