Matteo Soranzo's publication corrects a long historical injustice: the scholarly neglect of Giovanni Aurelio Augurello's poem Chrysopoeia (1515), a work that did not fit the Enlightenment paradigm or traditional Renaissance studies. As Soranzo points out, Chrysopoeia was only mentioned as a curiosity in Jacob Burckhardt's foundational Culture of the Renaissance in Italy (1860). As for Augurello, he remained an obscure poet whose main achievement was deemed to be the tutoring of Pietro Bembo (1470–1547). The history of alchemy is currently undergoing a vigorous revival, spearheaded by the works of William R. Newman and Lawrence M. Principe, both of whom are copiously cited in this edition. As part of this revival, the writings of Zweder von Martels and Sylvain Matton have paid renewed attention to Chrysopoeia. Soranzo is clearly supportive of the new framework, but describes his approach as “eclectic” (5).

Soranzo's critical edition contains an editorial introduction, the annotated and commented text of Chrysopoeia and four other Augurello poems, a bibliography, and two indexes. The introduction is chiefly an intellectual biography of Augurello, set in the context of early sixteenth-century Italy, particularly Venice. Soranzo paints the portrait of a talented poet who was, however, relatively devoid of means and often dependent on patronage. Still, Augurello had the good fortune of obtaining the support of Venetian diplomat Bernardo Bembo and pontifical nuncio Niccolò Franco, among others. Augurello also made a living as a private tutor of local Venetian patricians, and, in his later age, became a canon of the cathedral of Treviso. Soranzo does a good job highlighting Augurello's relationships with various Renaissance figures, and paints a vivid picture of the impact of the contemporary political situation on Augurello's livelihood and writings. There is less on Augurello's exposure to alchemy and metallurgy; a discussion of the Venetian alchemy of the period (and its links with metallurgy) would have perhaps been desirable.

Soranzo emphasizes Augurello's annus mirabilis in Florence (1475–76) and the formative influence of Marsilio Ficino (1433–99) on the young poet. The Ficinian influence on Chrysopoeia is, of course, already established in alchemical scholarship. Perhaps less known is the link between Augurello and Ermolao Barbaro (1454–93), professor of natural philosophy in Padua. Barbaro is one humanist clearly deserving more research, if only for his outspoken support for the Pseudo-Lullian alchemical framework at a time when the Venetian Council of Ten condemned alchemy (1488). Soranzo seems well versed in the complexity of Renaissance didactic poetry and humanism. He identifies Virgil as the most influential model for the Chrysopoeia, followed by Lucretius and Horace. The author also places Chrysopoeia in a humanistic trend of engaging with the work of Pliny the Elder—namely, his Natural History.

Similarly, Soranzo has delved into many of Augurello's medieval alchemical sources. He rightfully highlights the impact of Petrus Bonus's influential Pretiosa margarita novella on Chrysopoeia, but also that of Pseudo-Lull's Testamentum, Geber's Summa perfectionis, and Albertus Magnus's De mineralibus. Yet Augurello's use of a variety of medieval sources can obscure the fact that Chrysopoeia advocates a specific type of practice: the extraction of the seed from gold. Thus, it does not share the mercury-alone approach that distinguished Geberian alchemy. Similarly, the solvent that extracts the seed of gold is never actually named “philosophical mercury,” despite the manifest influence of Pseudo-Lull. It is likely that the extraction of the gold seed is done by mercury, but the process itself is unclear.

Editing and translating Neo-Latin poetry, particularly as complex as Chrysopoeia, is no mean feat. Soranzo has clearly spent an impressive amount of effort on Augurello's poem, and the translation generally reads well. The annotations point to a large number of ancient and medieval sources, usually with extensive quotations. The critical apparatus brought to the edition is convincing, with the disappointing exception of the general index, which is underdeveloped.

Soranzo's edition is meant to bring Chrysopoeia back into scholarly attention, and this goal will most likely succeed. Yet, from the point of view of the history of alchemy, Soranzo's commentary suffers from some missed opportunities. For instance, apart from the association of alchemy and humanistic themes, there is no attempt to offer a theoretical discussion of Renaissance alchemy. The introduction only touches upon the influence of Chrysopoeia. The editor's limited engagement with the work of Sylvain Matton on Ficinian alchemy, the absence of a reference to Matton's edition of De Arte Chimica (2014), and the lack of discussion of Augurello's vitalist (even panpsychic) theory curb our understanding of Chrysopoeia's great impact on early modern alchemy. It is perhaps telling that Soranzo, as a literary scholar, seems to appreciate Chrysopoeia primarily as “a masterpiece in neo-Latin didactic poetry” (72) rather than as a work of Renaissance alchemy.