This volume by C. – who left us suddenly before she could put the finishing touches to this splendid work – is a valuable book not only for specialists in ancient philosophy but also for anyone interested in the history of education in the ancient world. The volume does not attempt, as H.-I. Marrou did in Histoire de l’éducation dans l’Antiquité (1948), to reconstruct the classical education system, nor is it confined to the well-known and widely accepted statements of P. Hadot (Exercices spirituels et philosophie antique [1993]) on the relationship between the teaching of philosophy and the practice of life. C. seeks to open a window onto an aspect of education in the Graeco-Roman world by examining life in schools from a new and interesting perspective: as the subtitle of the volume, Notes on Notes, suggests, the focus is on the relationship between listening, education and the publication of classroom lessons. The book is divided into three parts (1: ‘Ancient Annotations in Context’; 2: ‘The Voice of Epictetus’; 3: ‘Recording Lectures of Philosophers’) and ten chapters preceded by an introduction and followed by a conclusion. It is easy to read and well structured. C. constructs a study of education not by discussing teaching curricula or the strictly philosophical content of the notes, but by observing the evolution of the practice of note-taking with excellent historical contextualisation.

In Part 1 C. reconstructs the many ways in which notes can be taken and for what purposes. Attentive to the historical and social context of the Graeco-Roman world, as well as to epigraphical and papyrological evidence and the distinction between rhetorical and philosophical education, C. offers readers a nuanced picture – not only of the schools of philosophy, but also of how philosophy arose as a teaching practice. For example, she discusses the fascinating hypothesis that the Nicomachean Ethics and the Eudemian Ethics may derive from notes taken by Aristotle’s students, although this remains unproven, as the available evidence suggests that students were generally passive recipients of instruction. It is not until Porphyry that we find clear evidence of students actively engaging with their teacher’s lectures.

Therefore, while focusing particularly on authors from the imperial and the late antique periods, C. does not fail to discuss the ancient world, always offering interesting reconstructive hypotheses. C. attributes to Plato the use of the term hypomnemata – already attested in Thucydides – with the meaning of ‘annotation’ and ‘commentary’. Hypomnemata is the key term in this volume, which covers the period from the third century bce onwards and encompasses history, rhetoric, medicine and philosophy. C. meticulously reconstructs the technical features of note-taking (e.g. shorthand, a system invented in the final decades of the Roman Republic or the early years of the Empire), the emergence of specialised terminology, the geographical diffusion of these practices, the archaeology of the schools (see references to the site of Kom el-Dikka) and the identities of both the authors and the intended recipients of these notes.

From Part 2 onwards C. offers new insights into the long-standing question of the authenticity of Epictetus’ Discourses. She compares Arrian to Galen, noting that the texts of both circulated in an incomplete, abridged and inaccurate form, without final revision. Although Arrian’s notes were not his own but were taken from Epictetus’ lectures, they were not intended for publication either. Nevertheless, they were circulated as the only surviving record of Stoic pedagogy. Commenting on the content of some of the Discourses, C. attempts to ascertain whether Arrian reports Epictetus’ parrhesia and the various lessons in their entirety, along with the students’ questions and reactions. C. reconstructs the ‘therapy’ of Epictetus’ school, which involved a harsh approach towards students. The philosopher denigrated them as beings to be awakened from intellectual lethargy, calling them ‘slaves’, ‘weaklings’ and ‘stones’. In this phase C. identifies Epictetus’ efforts to counter his students’ attempts – likely shaped by prior rhetorical training – to appropriate ready-made cultural material without grasping its deeper meaning or practical usefulness. Rhetorical schools trained students with stylistic exercises that had nothing to do with philosophy. According to Epictetus, who was known for never resolving issues in a purely theoretical way, philosophy touches the heart and mind in order to morally transform students. In this context C. prefers to translate the term melete as ‘meditation’, to emphasise that the moral transformation of students can be achieved through daily training against desires.

At this point C. draws a parallel between Socrates and Epictetus via Plato. Their shared disdain for written communication is evident in a passage from the Protagoras (329a), where books are portrayed as inert and unable to respond or be questioned. While the parallel is interesting, I am not convinced by C.’s subsequent use of it to justify the production of hypomnemata in Neoplatonism. I do not believe that Proclus’ refusal to write a commentary on the Orphic poems, prompted by Syrianus’ ghost in a dream, can be traced back to Socrates, nor that the paraphrasing of the master’s texts can be interpreted as a general strategy for writing hypomnemata. Plato’s criticism of writing and the ‘aporia’ of the dialogues are overcome by juxtaposing Plato’s writings with the concept of demiurgic creation (see Anon. Proleg. 13, 18–29), which allows us to recognise the fundamental importance of Plato’s written legacy in relation to his oral legacy.

In Part 3 C. focuses on three philosophers who wrote hypomnemata: Philodemus of Gadara (first century bce), Didymus the Blind (fourth century ce) and Olympiodorus of Alexandria (sixth century ce). The aim is to illustrate the different ways in which this ‘genre’ was characterised over the centuries. In relation to J.R. Stenger’s volume Education in Late Antiquity. Challenges, Dynamism, and Reinterpretation, 300–550 ce (2022), and thanks to her choice of these (somewhat questionable) three case studies, C.’s book succeeds in reconstructing a dynamic picture of complex postclassical education: the notes testify to lively lessons and to books that are not canonised but still in the process of formation. Focusing on Philodemus is useful for reconstructing the differences between syngrammata (complete works) and hypomnematika (incomplete works) as well as between scholia and hypomnemata. However, the enigma of the material authors of these various Herculaneum notes remains unsolved. The school of Didymus the Blind is presented and analysed, since the notes produced there highlight ancient Christian teaching and learning, along with the differences from pagan education. C. hypothesises that a scribe copied the notes after their initial writing, without correcting imperfections, thereby preserving the vital authenticity of the Alexandrian pedagogical environment.

To introduce Olympiodorus and his Commentary on Alcibiades, C. first briefly reconstructs the complex philosophical and scholastic context of Alexandria. In doing so, C. cannot avoid referring to the school of Athens, as the two schools are linked despite their differences. The general picture that emerges is that of greater organisation of the apo phones commentaries, which is linked to the (sometimes explicit) selection of the best students by the teachers, who allow them to compile and circulate their lessons under their own names. While I do not agree with the comparison of Olympiodorus’ Life of Plato to a simple rhetorical exercise (pp. 234–5; see my discussion in ‘The Life of Plato in Introductory Schemes: The Preface to Olympiodorus’ Commentary on the First Alcibiades [in Alc. 1.1–3.2]’, in: A. Joosse [ed.], Olympiodorus of Alexandria. Exegete, Teacher, Platonic Philosopher [2021], pp. 31–54), I find C.’s insights into the structure of Olympiodorus’ comments – divided into lexis and praxis – particularly illuminating. Although the examples discussed are relatively few, this structure could indeed trace the origin of the lexeis back to the students’ direct involvement. Even the errors in the Commentary on Alcibiades – such as misunderstood words, phonetic spelling and incorrect ancient verses – can be attributed to students. However, as C. points out, these mistakes do not exclude the possibility that, in some cases, Olympiodorus himself may have been the source of the confusion. After all, the best students were chosen to take notes, and in any case, we are dealing with texts that reflect lessons – sometimes cycles of lessons on the same text, as shown by the double praxeis on Alc. 126c–127e – and pedagogical methods that, rather than representing a fixed form of teaching or a definitive text, shed light on life in ancient schools. C. brilliantly restores the characteristics of collaboration and creativity that define the dialogue between teacher and student.