Is it in any way possible to dedicate one's own energy, even life, to study something that one does not love or like? Could one reach a continuous, indomitable, need to learn without being mesmerised by the object of one's study? The beginnings of classical philology seem to be telling us that it is not. Pursuing classical studies is more than dry professional calculus: it holds the promise of transforming oneself to the liking of the seemingly perfect model of humanitas antiqua. Or at least it should do so according to some of the founding fathers of the discipline. In her book on late eighteenth- and nineteenth-century German scholars who have laid the foundation of what is presently referred to as classical philology, G. proposes as methodological principle an epistemology of emotion, arguing that the historical interest in antiquity of the forerunners of classical philology was underpinned by a unusual excess of feeling. G.'s aim is nothing less but to reshape the genealogy of the discipline – advocating thus for a revaluation of the primary impetus in German classical scholarship. Taking the literature of German scholars as primary sources, G. focuses on texts in which these first classicists engage in affectionate conversations with antiquity in such a way that antiquity becomes personified. Indeed, it is precisely this type of engagement that seems to be the selection criterion for the analysed sources. Another ingredient in G.'s study is to look at the biographies of early classicists as penned by their earliest biographers, as ‘narrative extensions’ of this romanticised relation to antiquity (C. Justi's biography of Winkelmann [1866–72] and W. Dilthey on Schleiermacher [1870], and also G. Misch's History of Autobiography [1907]).

The book, the result of a long-standing interest of G., is made up of six chapters (predominantly in chronological manner), some of them revised and rewritten materials already published. Particular attention is given to authors such as Winkelmann, Herder, Wolf, Schleiermacher, Boeckh, Thiersch, Wilamowitz, Nietzsche and also to lesser known figures such as F. Ast, J.G. Hamann or K.F. Hermann. Similar to Renaissance humanists who thought that ancient sculptures were exempt of colour, we still tend to think that the pioneers of Classics were rational, positivist and enlightened, and that they perceived the past without projecting any ‘colours’ on it. By revisiting them through the ‘language of love’, G. argues that German scholars did not perceive and represent the past as objectively or rationally as they were usually praised for, and their relationship to antiquity was one of complicated excitement and longing. Feeling, affection and love seem to operate as necessary conditions in activating the desire towards antiquity. If one does not have a personal relationship to the past, one's access to its intimacy is limited. For some of the German scholars addressed by G., the encounter with antiquity triggered an esthetical rendezvous, in which seduction played an important role. Their reading of Greek antiquity is highlighted by the unambiguous use of amorous imagery and love rhetoric, under the influence of specific paradigms of yearning: the legendary figure of Pygmalion or the example set by the daughter of a Corinthian potter who traced the outline of her resting boyfriend (illustrated on the book's dust jacket) or Alcibiades’ exuberant love for Socrates. By deconstructing the language of love behind this initial interest, the beginning of classical philology in Germany could be understood as another facet and adaptation of the love-driven pedagogical model of Plato's Symposium.

Love – one of the most problematic pedagogical concepts of European culture from Plato onwards – is revisited by German scholarship, in its most sublime ramifications, to the point that scholars emulated an Alcibiadian love towards antiquity. Plato's personality and the way in which he depicts his teacher, especially in the Symposium, appear as leitmotifs that shaped the very discipline of classical philology. By reconsidering the epistemological concept knowing by love, G.'s contribution could be taken also as a chapter on the complicated nature of love. G. brings into light a history of love from the perspective of the learned, which directs the researcher towards a complex formation of the self: Bildung. A problematic term for which it is difficult to provide a perfect English equivalent and whose closest comparable concept is the Greek paideia. Bildung is at the core of both the ancient and the studied German scholars, as a formation project that links the individual with the universal. Herder states that Bildung is realised through the study of the Hellenic past and, in G.'s analysis, the language of Bildung and that of love overlap for a ‘sentimental Bildung’.

This is a refreshing radiography of German scholarship in several respects, whose contribution could be understood as a neo-romantic approach to the romanticism of Classics. It is a history of an important period of classical scholarship, not written by a historian or sociologist, but by a classicist. The author herself looks upon a subject matter with a passion that is part of her own object of study. The student of the foundation of German classical scholarship will find here an original enterprise, full of thoughtful remarks prudently evaluated. Throughout reading it, I could not help the feeling that this is an introspective effort of present classical philology to understand its youth and its coming of age, in the same way that psychoanalysis looks at infancy in order to explain adult behaviour. The notable difference is that G. does not venture to relate the present state of Classics to the ‘trauma’ of the past. Others have engaged in that and found dangerous connections between the philological emulation of the classical past and the rise of German National-Socialism. But then again it is a psychoanalytical endeavour that finds the language of love at the formation of any personality, be it also a humanistic discipline; thus, one could ask whether this is the case for classical philology alone or what G. develops here is the prototype of a theory that can be applied to other disciplines as well.

The writing style of the book falls prey every so often to this passionate approach, edging at times between poetic essay and argumentative prose. It would have been illuminating to contrast the analysed writings with examples from more extreme positivistic approaches of the mentioned authors or other contemporary figures. Unfortunately, the book lacks an analytical table of contents that would help the reader navigate more systematically through it. To some extent, this is compensated by the headers, which cover each section, and an index.

There is another side effect of the book. Beyond its historiographical achievement, its direct effect is on the affect. After reading it, one has the impression of falling in love with the classical world (if one has not already), due to the intense engagement with early scholars in their fierce love and desire to embrace antiquity. Their love is contagious, such as Plato's love for wisdom was for the German scholars, who eventually translated philo-sophia into philo-logia.