‘He was so good at moulding and assimilating himself to others that he made the octopus seem useless by comparison, and every person who encountered him thought that they saw a likeness of themselves. People who experienced this said that he was a picture or an impression in wax of every kind of different character’ (Eunap., VS 395). Such was the judgement that Eunapius passed on the prominent orator and teacher Libanius, whose long life had spanned the vast majority of the fourth century. Despite his many public appearances and his vast circle of correspondents and acquaintances, the man himself remained mysterious and masked, constantly changing his public face to suit every fluctuation in circumstances. For modern scholars, however, Libanius might seem to offer more potential for character analysis than most ancient figures, since his enormous extant oeuvre encompasses sixty-four speeches (including an ‘autobiography’), more than fifteen hundred letters and a host of educational materials. As Heinz-Günther Nesselrath and Lieve Van Hoof describe in their fascinating chapter on his reception (160–83; also discussed by Cribiore at 10–17), Libanius has been frequently reinterpreted, enjoying great popularity as a model for Byzantine authors and being mythologized as a friend and teacher of important bishops, or even as a convert to Christianity, in the medieval tradition, before falling out of favour from the eighteenth century onwards.

In an important re-evaluation Bella Sandwell, in her Religious Identity in Late Antiquity (2007), rejected the idea of Libanius as the representative of a ‘pagan party’ in his home city of Antioch, instead seeing him as someone who chose to invoke or downplay religion in his writings dependent on the context. Important advances have also already been made by both Raffaella Cribiore and many of the contributors to Lieve Van Hoof's excellent edited collection, particularly in terms of methodologies for reading and analysing Libanius’ texts. This concern is evident in both volumes under review here: H. declares that his works demand ‘a more sophisticated approach, combining a literary and a historical perspective, having attention for text and context, and taking into account production, publication and reception’ (315); C., who possesses an impressive knowledge of his vast corpus, expresses a similar view, stating that ‘an awareness of both history and textuality is essential to interpretation’ (5), and stressing that we should pay attention not only to context and audience, but also to the varying conventions and expectations of different literary genres in the ancient world. Libanius’ works are not to be ‘left to the historians’ to be mined for information, but nor are they to be studied in some form of literary isolation, only interacting with other texts; instead, these scholars are in search of the texts’ functions within late antique society, as well as cautiously using them to re-evaluate earlier portraits of Libanius himself.

This rejection of earlier approaches, which are regarded as too literal or positivist, is particularly evident in the emphasis on Libanius’ self-fashioning, especially in his orations. The first chapter of each volume (H. 7–38; C. 25–75) contains a sophisticated exploration of Or. 1, often called the Autobiography or Life, which has always been a major source for understanding Libanius’ public and personal experiences. After discussing the debates about the text's complicated composition process, H. looks at the shaping of key episodes and argues that it forms a more coherent whole than is sometimes acknowledged, standing as an example of subtle self-praise with an overarching narrative of Libanius’ success, despite challenges and setbacks. While maintaining the view that the second part of the text has a different character to the first, C. also argues that it was intended for public consumption. C. then surveys the late antique biographical tradition, especially pagan and Christian accounts of ‘holy men’, to argue that Libanius drew on such literature for his rhetorical self-presentation, and may even have been directly influenced by Athanasius’ Life of Antony. Literary self-fashioning in Libanius’ other works is also discussed elsewhere in the edited volume: Ed Watts explores Libanius’ rhetoric of suffering (39–58), especially in response to the earthquake at Nicomedia in 358 and the death of the emperor Julian in 363, arguing convincingly that we should not simply label Libanius as ‘an emotionally and physically fragile character’ (56). C. also contributes a chapter on the school of Libanius (59–78), looking at rhetorical education in the East, the practicalities of admitting and teaching students and the ways in which Libanius altered the tone of his remarks about education between his orations and his letters.

More broadly, caveats about paying more attention to literary context are present throughout these two volumes: Heinz-Günther Nesselrath provides a clear guide to Libanius’ employment of earlier and contemporary literature (241–67), including detailed discussion of Orations 5 and 17, to demonstrate how the orator varied his use of literary references for different contexts and purposes. C.'s second chapter, on Libanius’ invective (76–131), also explores how he drew on classical examples, especially sexual slanders from Demosthenes and Aeschines, to give force and colour to his speeches; as well as giving an excellent survey of the orations, with discussion of each of them in turn, Pierre-Louis Malosse's chapter (81–106) also examines how Libanius shifted his approach to take account of the audience for a particular speech. In addition, Malosse provides a salutary reminder that the use of established rhetorical topoi should not be taken as a sign of the author's insincerity. A concern with highlighting literary responses to changing circumstances is also present in Hans-Ulrich Wiemer's discussion of Libanius’ attitude towards emperors and empire (187–219), although this chapter is keener than some others to attempt a reconstruction of his personal views on a particular subject. Wiemer's methodology also distinguishes sharply between orations and letters, arguing that the latter ‘give access to aspects of Libanius’ activity that are distorted or concealed in the speeches because the letters furnish strictly contemporary and direct evidence on the networks of patronage that Libanius was trying to build and maintain’ (188).

In fact, these volumes reveal greater scholarly disagreement about approaches to the letters than the orations. C. provides a nuanced argument, acknowledging the rhetorical aspects of much of Libanius’ correspondence, but emphasizing differences between the ancient genres of epistolography and oratory, which she regards as responsible for modern interpretations of Libanius as inconsistent. In particular, she argues that Libanius’ letters were less ‘public’ than is often assumed by providing examples of ancient authors expressing concern that their letters not be distributed beyond their intended recipients. C. also takes the view that Libanius did not organize his letters into any kind of collection for ‘publication’ and that this process took place posthumously, while Bernadette Cabouret, in her chapter on the letters (144–59), argues for much more direct authorial responsibility, not only in organizing the letters for 355–365, but also in not retaining those from 365–388, either for ‘self-preservation’ or ‘self-presentation’ (150). For Cabouret, ancient letters, whether individual or grouped into collections, were not strictly private, since recipients often shared them with their friends. This chapter therefore highlights the social functions of letters as ‘vehicles of friendship’, as well as a vital medium for Libanius to increase and maintain his pool of students and provide recommendations for his friends. These themes are also explored further in Scott Bradbury's piece on epistolary networks (220–40), which includes insights into Libanius’ use of the language of shared paideia and his fluctuating influence as a ‘broker’ (240) for patronage across different imperial reigns.

Both Bradbury and Cabouret therefore envision Libanius not as a retiring, scholastic figure, but as a man who could get things done, with Cabouret arguing that ‘by politely attributing praise and blame, he can hope to influence decisions and recruitments, and to fight against injustice, corruption and nepotism’ (159). Jan Stenger's sophisticated chapter on Hellenism (268–92) also views letters as vitally important for allowing Libanius to exhort his correspondents to embody particular values, thereby not only creating a shared identity, but also establishing his own authority as ‘a self-appointed arbiter of Hellenism’ (288). This emphasis on the social function of literature is also present in the pieces by Robert Penella (107–27) and Craig Gibson (128–42), on Libanius’ Declamations and Progymnasmata respectively. Both chapters provide useful guides to the tradition, theory and content of these educational works, along with the debates about the authenticity of some of the extant corpus, while also arguing that these schoolroom exercises helped to instil shared values, such as sophrosyne, in élite young men.

Libanius’ position as a representative of traditional, upper-class values is also key to Peter van Nuffelen's fascinating chapter on religion (293–314). This moves away from Sandwell's interpretation in order to see Libanius as a man very much alive to religious differences, who carefully altered his approach for different contexts: ‘This is not a matter of principled flexibility, but rather a case of treading sensitively but decidedly in matters of religion’ (297). Religious activity was therefore central to Libanius’ élite outlook, but his self-confident position meant that he did not feel the need to emphasize it frequently. Van Nuffelen follows this with an innovative reading of Or. 30, the famous defence of pagan temples, arguing that it is actually concerned not with protecting religious freedom, but rather with a more mundane desire to prevent the confiscation of élite estates. Libanius thus emerges from this chapter as simultaneously more and less concerned with ‘religion’ than he has often been depicted. The second half of C.'s volume (132–237) is also concerned with Libanius’ attitude towards the gods and criticizes Sandwell for treating the letters and orations as equally ‘public’. C. discusses the relative paucity of Libanius’ comments on his own involvement in cult practice before calculating the fluctuating frequency of references to the gods in his letters, dividing them into the categories of ‘formulaic’, ‘significant’ and ‘literary and educational’. She also looks at which particular gods are mentioned in his works, noting that, in contrast to the earlier works, only Zeus is invoked by name in the letters from 388–393. C. suggests that this could be a sign of a move towards henotheism, although she recognizes that any conclusions must remain tentative. Importantly, she also provides a vision of late antique religious identity that is not neatly polarized into ‘pagans’ and ‘Christians’, or even populated by other categories such as incerti and demi-chrétiens (172). Rejecting such labels, she emphasizes that we need to recognize not only change over time, but also many ‘different shades within the substantial gray area’ (173).

As both of these important volumes demonstrate, the recent resurgence of interest in Libanius is producing a similarly complex range of nuanced interpretations about not only his ‘religious identity’, but also the nature of his self-presentation, the audience(s) for his writings and his rôle in late antique politics and society. He remains, like the octopus, a fascinating and enigmatic figure.