The main questions about Latin loanwords in Greek are raised, with the help of a passage from Athenaeus, and the evidence that will be used to answer them is explained.

Chapter 9 synthesizes certain leading themes of the book and discusses some opinions of ancient intellectuals who reflected on the purpose and pleasures of music in convivial settings. The topics include musical self-display and public honor, social music as play, and the purpose of a symposion and its music. The chapter examines the philosophical opinions of Aristotle, Xenophon, Diogenes of Babylon, Philodemus, and Plutarch about various aspects of these topics, and concludes with a look at musical figures in the introduction to Athenaeus’ Deipnosophists (Learned Banqueters).

Chapter 19 of The Cambridge Companion to Sappho takes the narrative into the culture of fifth and fourth-centry Greece, showing Sappho’s immense and varied significance, made e.g. into a typical figure of fun on the comic stage, but also Plato’s praeceptor amoris in the Phaedrus.

‘Miscellany’ is not an ancient genre name. When scholars use the term, they are often vague about the definition and boundaries of the genre, and rely on well-known ‘examples’ that are treated as paradigmatic. Two scholars have sought to define the ‘miscellany’ more closely: Teresa Morgan gave a broad, inclusive definition grounded in the history of educational praxis; William Fitzgerald gave a narrower definition, focusing on the rhetorical characteristics of an elite, literary strand of miscellany-making. Fitzgerald's approach shall be our starting point as we investigate how and why Clement artfully deployed rhetorical tropes, imagery and metatextual observations to thematise his intentional participation in a wider discourse of learned literary miscellanism. But we must also situate his work in relation to particular examples of early imperial prose miscellanies, otherwise we risk lapsing into generalities about an irreducibly diverse group of texts. Plutarch’s Table Talk; Pliny’s Natural History; Gellius’ Attic Nights and Athenaeus’ Deipnosophists are introduced alongside Clement’s Stromateis,as appropriate for comparative study.

The reigns of Nerva, Trajan, and Hadrian are notable both for the technical and aesthetic developments in architecture, as well as the significant amount of building work undertaken in Rome and across the empire. However, as far as can be determined, this activity was not accompanied by a surge of interest in architectural writing among Latin authors of the second century CE, who give little attention to such matters. This chapter aims to demonstrate that while there were shared frameworks for how Roman writers received and commented on buildings, the most important connection between them is what they do not say. This argument is developed through considering the apparent difference with Greek literature of the period, which includes conspicuously more complex discussions of buildings and attention to architectural detail. The case is made that this contrast is not due to a lack of interaction, but is rather a deliberate opposition between how Latin and Greek authors handle the subject. Arguably, this disconnection that is observable in literature also reflects the differing perceptions of architecture in the respective societies more widely.