When a book is advertised as ‘a rigorous and multifaceted answer to the question, “Why should we still think about the Aeneid?”’ (p. i), any specialist in classical reception will immediately sense the danger of preaching to the choir. Too many publications are written by Classicists for an audience of Classicists. This readership has already formed a positive opinion regarding the qualities of ancient literature – and usually a negative one regarding the developments of classical education and its status in contemporary society. In short, this could have been a book to reassure those already lamenting the neglect of a piece of world literature. Fortunately, the volume largely manages to avoid this pitfall and delivers some truly inspiring new insights and arguments.

The editors’ introduction starts in a rather defensive tone, then quickly jumps to a brief methodological section and the usual summaries of the following chapters. The focus of the book is not so much on classical reception studies in the sense of a comprehensive analysis of reception mechanisms, traditions and impact. Instead, the guiding principle is to highlight the potential the Aeneid has (or could have) for contemporary discourses. This kind of programmatic approach is laudable, but it might have called for a more spirited and probably essayistic introduction. A similar issue – whether to research reception or promote it – recurs throughout the volume, affecting the subdivision, arrangement and emphasis of its contributions.

Part 1 is by far the most extensive one and consists of five case studies of the Aeneid's reception in twentieth-century literature, with a few excursions into the new millennium. Some of the authors discussed such as Rudyard Kipling and Philip Pullman will be familiar to a worldwide audience, others such as the Harlem Renaissance writer Zora Neale Hurston undeservedly less so. If you are not acquainted with the work of Yehuda Amichai or Giorgio Caproni, the chapters by G. Loi and F. Giannotti will hopefully give you a taste and desire for more. These case studies are of a high quality in their own right, and it is easy to see how they can ‘provide the initial evidence for the Aeneid's current significance’ (p. 13). On the other hand, one might ask why this laying of foundations takes up a good two-fifths of the book. One might further ponder the fact that the sample evidence discussed is truly international, but still very much focused on the Western world. (For a first glimpse of the potential evidence available see the contribution by J. Liu on China in: S. Braund and Z.M. Torlone [edd.], Virgil and His Translators [2018] and A. Riddiford's Madly after the Muses [2013] on India.) Finally, one could consider how the frequently declared multi- or interdisciplinary approach to the Aeneid in the modern world is served by so strong an emphasis on examples of literary reception. This should not deter from the fact that the five studies in question are thoroughly worth reading and provide good examples of the variety and complexity of direct and indirect receptions.

Part 2 comprises three very different chapters united by an American background: P. and J. Hay's treatment of multi-artist Christopher Pearse Cranch and his translation of the Aeneid in 1872 is more of a historical study, even if Cranch's text was reprinted until the early twentieth century. T.A. Wimperis presents a reading of ideology and national rhetoric in Virgil, ending with a quick tour of modern analogies from Xi Jinping, Vladimir Putin and Tayyip Erdoğan to Donald Trump's ‘Make America great again’ politics. O'Neill compares the function of the Trojan War mural in the Aeneid with that of the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, DC. While it is entertaining to see, for example, the echoes of the US Civil War in an ‘Americanized’ nineteenth-century Aeneid, the comparative discussion of the war memorials comes closest to the purpose mentioned above: reading the ancient epic helps you to understand better and reflect on the (non-literary) modern political symbol.

Part 3 on trauma and identity continues this welcome concept with three original contributions: D. Bostick outlines the atemporality of traumatic experiences in the Aeneid and combines them with therapeutic insights from the treatment of PTSD victims. N. Ciccone compares narratives of dislocation in Virgil with testimonies of Syrians who fled from the war in their country. G. Saad draws on modern philosophy from Thomas Hobbes to Martin Heidegger to interpret conflicting constructions of the self. At their best moments, these chapters will enrich your understanding of the modern world (e.g. on the role of memory in mental health) while giving you a new respect for the depth of the classical texts. There are limits regarding diachronic comparability, availability of evidence and study length: ten pages are not nearly enough to grasp the impact of the Syrian War on its victims, religious factors play a different role in the modern events than they do in the Aeneid, and Ciccone has to rely heavily on preselected testimonies from other studies and reports. However, this is by no means a criticism of the outcome, but rather an encouragement to realise the full potential of carrying such powerful ancient texts into the present. That said, the positive effects described above need not be limited to scholars analysing the classical and the modern worlds. The work of groups like the Italian non-scuola, who make ancient texts accessible to socially disadvantaged youths and encourage their playful communal interpretation, are hopefully only a first taste of many new forms of active and creative classical reception. (Admittedly, non-scuola is using more Greek drama than Roman epic, cf. http://www.teatrodellealbe.com/non-scuola/ [accessed 11 January 2023].)

The final section opts for different, yet nonetheless noteworthy ways of ‘taking the Aeneid into the future’ (p. 231): F. Foster uses comprehensive data on text usage in Latin classes taught at UK schools to indicate alternative ways to increase the understanding of the ancient epic in – and its impact on – twenty-first-century adolescents. E. Price points out analogies between Virgil's Golden Bough and the Golden Record sent by NASA into space in the 1970s as a message to alien cultures. It is entertaining to imagine the effects of the latter's retrieval and compare this scenario to the ancient narrative. Still, one cannot help but wonder whether a third contribution and/or some sort of coda would have helped round off this rather short section and the volume as a whole.

The book is well produced with very few typos and a reliable general index. If anything is lacking, it is probably an index locorum and more than one illustration. I would have loved to see more interaction between the texts, but I appreciated their overall quality and variety. My main issue is not so much with the individual studies, most of which I thoroughly enjoyed reading, but with some overarching results: despite the editors’ and authors’ best efforts, the combined outcome will probably appeal to a limited section of modern society consisting mainly of advanced students and researchers. This audience will profit hugely from the book; but if we are thinking about public outreach effectiveness, other forms of presentation might have been advisable. The sections could be more balanced and homogeneous, the interdisciplinary spectrum could be wider, as could the Western focus. Then again, it feels almost unfair to put forward this kind of criticism of a book that incorporates so much into a mere 270 pages. Even those who specialise in classical reception studies and/or are interested in how to make the non-specialist part of the world realise the greatness of the Aeneid are unlikely to read the entire volume. If they do, there will be many positive surprises, reflecting both the quality of the book, the necessity of such publications and, above all, the relevance of Virgil's truly timeless classic.