There seems to be universal assent to the concept that languages shift over time and therefore it would be inadvisable to impose the categories of Homeric grammar upon modern Greek. Greatrex and Elton's edited collection offers a welcome reminder that such fluidity needs to be recognized in other realms as well. The Shifting Frontiers in Late Antiquity series has sometimes suffered in that the conference it is based on has themes of such wide scope that many of the resulting edited volumes feel rather too loosely connected, but this entry, treating shifts in literary and material genre, is more focused than the majority of the previous volumes. The twenty-two chapters are divided into six sections: ‘Homiletics and Disputation’, ‘Ecclesiastical Genres’, ‘Visual Genres’, ‘Procopius and Literature in the Sixth-Century Eastern Empire’, ‘Technical Genres’ and, finally, ‘Other Literary Genres’. As reviews with a broader focus have already appeared (BMCR 2016.04.02, CR 66.1 (2016), 154–6), I will focus in my review on several of the chapters that I believe are especially significant or well argued.

Colin Whiting examines Jerome's Lives of the Illustrious Men, which is typically seen as derivative propaganda in the genre of bibliography. Jerome indicated that his purpose was both to provide Christian bibliography, and an apologetic tool to be used against paganism. Whiting tries to look past what the text says to see how it was read, looking first at the context, noting that both forgery of, and contemporary references to, earlier Christian authors as authorities were becoming more frequent, and also reviewing similar literature of anti-heresy handbooks. He proceeds to the content, noting that Jerome's work included some decidedly non-illustrious entries, as well as characters that he wrote about negatively. Indeed, the format plays a rôle in Whiting's analysis as well, as he argues that the table of contents demonstrates that this was not an argued demonstration of superiority, but a ready reference work. While the final chapter on Jerome himself did seek to show his superiority, it also demonstrated the credibility required to judge the inclusion or exclusion of other authors.

Geoffrey Dunn treats two surviving letters of Bishop Zosimus of Rome from 417–418 and argues that they have been wrongly categorized as papal decretals, letters which command authority, but also render a legal decision with binding regulations. The concept of papal decretals was in place by the fifth century, but Zosimus’ two letters, not intended as such, were so categorized by those collecting the letters in the 430s. Dunn's first example is a letter to Hesychius, the bishop of Solin, who had written seeking input rather than orders. In his reply, Zosimus evidently expected his advice to be obeyed, but not least because it was in accord with previous canonical decisions. The second was a warning to a group of clergy, referencing an earlier group he had excommunicated. His recipients had violated existing canon law by appealing directly to the imperial court. As authoritative as this sounds, it was not an exercise of universal papal authority, but an example of a local bishop dealing with his own clergy. While Dunn must build his case upon relatively few examples, the impact of his argument on the debate regarding the development of papal authority is significant.

Christopher Doyle tracks shifts in genre in the field of numismatics, looking specifically at the genre of ‘victory coins’ in order to trace both the decline of paganism and the collapse of order. While the appearances of most pagan deities on coins declined, Victoria's did not, although she appeared more and more often with Christian symbols such as the labarum and the cross, marking a victory of sorts for Christianity as the genre was infused with new meaning. Victoria played a key rôle through the reigns of Constantine and his relatives, Theodosius and his heirs and challengers, and finally Honorius, as coinage was a more universally distributed medium for celebrating victory over one's opponents than panegyric. She had originally been displayed to commemorate external victory, but with the increasing pace of attempted usurpations, her appearance documented the Empire's slide into disorder.

Ralph Mathisen offers a wide-ranging but careful look at the language of identity, using both epigraphic and textual evidence to challenge the assumption that citizenship and identity were centred only in Roman or municipal citizenship. His research reveals that once universal citizenship was attained in the third century, people were free to redefine their own identity and frequently chose the language of geography and ethnicity to do so. Many in Late Antiquity employed new categories to identify themselves, such as using gens and natio in reference to ethnicity, but they also used existing categories in new ways, using ‘provincial’ in a generic as well as a legal sense, describing themselves as ‘citizens’ of ethnicities, and using natio in association with a city or terrain type. While this extraordinary fluidity is interesting in itself, it also depicts identity as more local and personally self-constructed, which Mathisen links to the disassociation from Roman-ness that contributed to the break-up of the Western Empire.

Procopius focused on Belisarius’ final campaign in Italy in the seventh book of his Wars, and Charles Pazdernik sheds light on Procopius’ crafting of his material. Pazdernik demonstrates convincing parallels between Totila's speech in Procopius’ hands, and Pericles’ speech in Thucydides’. Both Pericles and Totila exhorted their audiences not to be misled by wrath, but rather to use reason and appreciate the sound judgement that put them on their present courses of action. That sustained comparison was surely informed by the contemporary awareness that Pericles’ speech was itself not the appropriate rhetorical response, as noted by Dionysius of Halicarnassus and Aelius Aristides. Indeed, Procopius must have known that Thucydides had been criticized for putting too much of himself into the speech as he consciously used the speech for his own purposes, showing that, while a capable leader, Totila was no Pericles.

Edward Watts begins his study of Himerius by reviewing the genre of monody, which was heavily influenced by the works of Menander and Aelius Aristides, and argues that Late Antiquity was different, an age in which authors were taking established forms and doing new things with them, infusing traditional philosophical and religious categories with new ideas. He highlights Himerius’ talent, offering a new dimension to the self-serving aspect of his character by suggesting that despite the fact that his monody was for his dead son, it was also a tool to get back to Athens. Himerius was in line with the shift in fourth-century oratory, breaking with Menander's rule not to make family the focus of monody, and placing self at the centre of the oration, as Libanius also did with Julian's monody. Watts uses Himerius to demonstrate that late antique oratory was not simply derivative, but interested in stretching genre creatively, rather than creating new categories afresh.

Each of these examples demonstrates not only familiarity with sources, careful research and thorough argumentation, but draws out the relationship to shifts in the wider world of Late Antiquity. This valuable contribution offers a more nuanced and sympathetic view of late antique culture that will be welcomed by researchers in classics, divinity and medieval studies alike.