S.’s volume presents a continuous commentary divided into nine chapters, one for each book. The long introduction has the title ‘Literary History’, which discloses at once the prevailing interest of the volume. It is not clear for what kind of reader the volume is intended to be most useful; it is too ambitious for beginners, and it might prove to be challenging to others. S.’s enthusiasm for Herodotus is evident throughout, he has read widely in the vast scholarly literature, and he has brought his interest in literary theory into the discussions.

Much of S.’s industry goes into summarising and explaining earlier work on Herodotus. The section of the introduction titled ‘Herodotus the Historian’ touches on A. Momigliano, F. Jacoby and C. Fornara on its first page and goes on to cover much other familiar ground. The next section, ‘Herodotus’ Sources and Methods’, also shows that S. is up to speed on the problems as he sketches the range of analyses and solutions that the literature offers. The level of exposition that he wants to strike is unclear, however. Sometimes his tone is elementary (‘Herodotus travels the world and takes notes of differences in lifestyles and mindsets among the different groups of peoples he encounters’ [p. 29]). But elsewhere he aims higher (‘Culture becomes an inclusive field and embraces aspects of the animal world, especially where there is interaction between human and non-human worlds’ [p. 27]).

In the section of the introduction on ‘The Histories as Literature’, S. keeps pointing out, even celebrating, the variety of stories in Herodotus that can be enjoyed as literature directly. On the other hand he strives to explain the large-scale, long-term project in which the stories are embedded. Literary theory comes into play, particularly narrative theory. Reading Herodotus appears to entail finding the ways in which divergent goals (literary excellence, transmitting history) can be reconciled. The critical stance that emerges is not identifiable with a single school, and S., here and throughout, is cheerfully eclectic. He is generous with his own quick insights, suggestive analogies and cross-cultural allusions. His introduction, then, serves its purpose. His case for Herodotus as literature is hard to follow and unpersuasive. For example, the genesis and context of the Histories are rather unfamiliar in important ways, but they certainly have some of the features of a performance, eliciting feedback from a live audience, perhaps competing with others for attention. S.’s approach often seems to wander from the fabric of the text.

The commentary sets out to follow the text from the first page to last. Its highest value as a guide is perhaps in the most basic sense; it keeps the reader on track, moving through the multiform, highly-detailed narrative. But at the same time there is abundant explanatory material, serving as a guide to analysis, interpretation and especially digests of the vast backlog of publications on Herodotus. As a sample of how the commentary works one might choose the abduction-sequence that opens Book 1 (1.1–5), after the Prologue. S. presents his own guide to the text both in a kind of evaluative paraphrase and in a box on the same page. He follows this with ‘scholarly disagreements over the correct way to interpret 1–5’. The abduction-sequence may be pure invention or garbled myth, a parody of Hecataeus or sophisticated comedy, a proleptic statement of the revenge-motif or an adumbration of Herodotus’ on-going concern with the philosophical idea of reciprocity in various forms. This inventory of scholarly interpretations is then followed by a substantial discussion in which S. draws out ever wider implications of the sequence as he sees them: Herodotus questioning sources, staking out his historical stance and so forth. Only then does he turn to the next section.

The commentary employs these ingredients in various combinations throughout: pointed paraphrase of Herodotus’ text, inventory or summary of scholarly opinions and the author's own ideas as they arise. There is an advantage in the abundance of ideas and points of view that have been pulled together, but there is a major deficit of organisation and discrimination. A first-time reader of Herodotus is likely to be intimidated.

S.’s treatment of the so-called Constitutional Debate in Book 3 (3.80–3) provides another sample of his method (pp. 122–4). The setting of the debate is summarised rapidly: the end of the false Smerdus, the luck of Darius, the success of the coup. The problems arising from the debate are then broached, especially, of course, its authenticity and Herodotus’ self-aware statement (‘incredible to some Greeks, ἐλέχθησαν δ’ ὦν’). Then comes S.’s digest of scholarly opinions on this question. One of them is given most space in the main discussion (M. Ostwald 1969), while more recent work (D. Lateiner, et al.) is merely mentioned in a footnote. In another footnote P. Cartledge's argument is summarised in some detail, while another crisp judgement of his is quoted back in the main discussion. Certainly there is no completely right way of dealing with earlier scholarship that fits all occasions, but here, and throughout the commentary, the review of scholarship is ponderous, the reader uncertain of priorities. S. adds a paragraph of his own remarks on the logical interplay of the three speakers, and here he sounds confident and is helpful.

Conceiving Herodotus as a literary historian runs the risk of the strange consequence that Herodotus becomes a stranger in his own book. The commentary, arriving at the great set pieces, falters and finds an obstacle. S. on the Salamis-narrative, for example, makes a great deal of the preliminaries and a very great deal of Artemisia. The battle-narrative is dealt with in a footnote (p. 281), essentially a list of authors and books in the bibliography that deal with the topic. S.’s general stance on this point is reflected in a remark introducing the Marathon-narrative (p. 185): ‘As with the Ionian revolt, the cause of the Marathon campaign is well covered by historians of the ancient world and the present emphasis is more on aspects of Herodotus’ account than the historical events themselves’.

There are 40 ‘boxes’ distributed throughout the Guide, differing in size from a full page or even two pages to a half-page or so. The material varies widely, including outlines of the narrative and timelines of the historical dates. Some of the boxes collect references from the text on a particular topic, for example ‘Egypt. Sources and Verification (2.1–98)’. They are not especially well integrated into the main discussion and seem like an afterthought.

S.’s own prose style is very uneven and ultimately rather discouraging. He often launches into long sentences that are simply verbose and tedious. When his goal is to explain complex interpretations and theoretical insights, the result, too often, is verbal overload, obscurity and roadblocks unsuitable to a Guide. Another smaller difficulty is that S. has a strange indifference to maps. There are none in the Guide, although he suggests (p. 133) that ‘readers will benefit by consulting maps when following the expositions on Scythia's geography’ and (p. 202) ‘it helps the reader following the journey of the Persian expedition to consult maps’. Connected to this perhaps is his tepid appreciation of catalogues, although they are a prime generic marker of early Greek literature. The great catalogue of the rivers of Scythia (4.47–58) is ‘a challenge to the reader’, and ‘the reader is in danger of being lost’. But the guide more or less leaves it at that.