In the few years that have elapsed since its publication, Floris Bernard's book has proved its value. It has been widely referenced, discussed and debated in the subsequent bibliography. Methodologically, Floris Bernard in his investigation of eleventh-century poetry follows in the footsteps of literary scholars such as Margaret Mullet and Marc Lauxtermann, who advocate the study of literature in context and/or bridge the gap between the study of literature and social sciences. Context is essential for Bernard, who calls on the assistance of the sociologist Pierre Bourdieu to explain the world that created and used literature in Byzantium.

The book developed from Bernard's doctoral thesis with the intriguing title ‘The Beats of the Pen: Social Contexts of Reading and Writing Poetry in Eleventh-Century Constantinople’ (Universiteit Gent, Faculteit Letteren en Wijsbegeerte, Vakgroep Latijn en Grieks, 2009–10). The content of the book is divided into an Introduction (Chapter I) and seven more chapters. Chapter 2, ‘Concepts’, is about defining literature in Byzantium. Chapter 3, ‘Readings’, explores the performance and transmission of poetry in the eleventh century. Chapter 4, ‘Collections’, is connected to the question of transmission as it deals with collections of literature. The next two chapters deal with the use of poetry for the purposes of social advancement (Chapter 5, ‘Ambitions’) and the function of independent schools in the intellectual life of the eleventh century (Chapter 6, ‘Education’). Chapter 7, ‘Competitions’, argues for the crucial role of poetry in intellectual debates; and Chapter 8, ‘Patronage’, investigates the material returns for the craftsmen of verses. Bernard's suggestions and understandings are based on arguments built firmly on the attentive reading of texts in prose and verse and acute observations about their multiple meanings. Bernard also deserves praise for the structure of the volume, since the summary notes at the beginning of each chapter help the reader to navigate through a very dense book.

I have only two minor quibbles with a book and (earlier) thesis that have influenced my own work. The first is related to the survival of the texts from which Bernard was able to quarry his arguments. Most of the poetry has survived in manuscripts dating from after the eleventh century. The process of selection by later copyists partly limits modern attempts to reconstruct medieval contexts. The impression of the eleventh-century literary reality we have access to depends partly on the choices of medieval literary communities, who decided what to preserve and what to forget. Luck is a second factor that has influenced the survival of the material – take for example the main manuscript with Christophoros Mitylenaios’ poetry (Grottaferatta ZaXXIX) that has been half-eaten by mice. My second reservation is related to the shape of the field – one of the best expressions of which is this book. I simply wonder whether by trying – quite rightly – to contextualize texts in their contemporary literary, social, and historical environment, we forget to appreciate their allure (which is what drew most of us to this field in the first place). Bernard (p. 4) notes that Byzantine texts address aesthetic values beyond our modern horizon of expectations. Could it be, however, that the current neglect of Byzantine literature in a globalized world is a consequence of the lack of translations and public engagement, rather than a reflection of the relevance of its aesthetic value? If experts rarely appreciate or feel confident about the beauty of Byzantine texts, how would a general audience ‘take the bait’?

As stated above, this book is a valuable contribution to the field and a must-read for anyone interested in the middle Byzantine era. A further major contribution of this book is that it makes accessible the world of Byzantine literati to anyone interested in the study of pre-modern literature in any language.