The great Greek philosopher heads to Delphi on the hunt for a kidnapped heiress in this series of “witty, elegant whodunits” (Times Literary Supplement). 330BC: Alexander the Great has sacked Persepolis and won the greatest fortune the world has ever known. The night of the Silent Dinner, when Athens placates the spirits of the dead, passes with a creeping mist accompanied by eerie portents and a strange disappearance. Stephanos and his teacher, the philosopher Aristotle, are about to be drawn into solving the perplexing abduction case of Anthia, the heiress of a prominent silver merchant. All that is known is that the abductor and the heiress are on the road to Delphi and its ancient oracle—whose help may be needed when a murder complicates the case in this follow-up to the “eminently enjoyable” Aristotle Detective (Colin Dexter, author of the Inspector Morse Mysteries). “Why did no one think of this before?”—The Times (UK)

In it, Aristotle offers an account of what he calls "poetry" (a term which in Greek literally means "making" and in this context includes drama - comedy, tragedy, and the satyr play - as well as lyric poetry and epic poetry). They are similar in the fact that they are all imitations but different in the three ways that Aristotle describes: 1. Differences in music rhythm, harmony, meter and melody. 2. Difference of goodness in the characters. 3. Difference in how the narrative is presented: telling a story or acting it out. In examining its "first principles," Aristotle finds two: 1) imitation and 2) genres and other concepts by which that of truth is applied/revealed in the poesis. His analysis of tragedy constitutes the core of the discussion. Although Aristotle's Poetics is universally acknowledged in the Western critical tradition, "almost every detail about his seminal work has aroused divergent opinions."

Howard J. Curzer presents a fresh new reading of Aristotle's Nicomachean Ethics, which brings each of the virtues alive. He argues that justice and friendship are symbiotic in Aristotle's view; reveals how virtue ethics is not only about being good, but about becoming good; and describes Aristotle's ultimate quest to determine happiness.

When Plato wrote his dialogues, written texts were disseminated primarily by performance and oral recitation. Literacy, however, was spreading, and Frank is the first to point out that the dialogues offer two distinct ways of learning to read. One method treats learning to read as being led to true beliefs about letters and syllables by an authoritative teacher. The other method, recommended by Socrates, focuses on learning to read by trial and error, and on the opinions learners come to have based on their own fallible experiences. In all the dialogues in which these methods appear, learning to read is likened to coming to know, and the significant differences between the two methods are at the center of Frank's argument. When learning to read is understood as a practice of assimilating true beliefs by an authoritative teacher, it reflects the dominant scholarly account of Plato's philosophy as authoritative knowledge and of Plato's politics as, if not authoritarian, then at least anti-democratic. Rulers should have such authoritative knowledge and be philosopher-kings. However, learning to read or coming to know by way of Socrates' method, leads to quite a different set of conclusions. Professor Frank resists the claim that Plato's dialogues seek to endorse or enforce a hierarchy of knowledge and politics. Instead, she argues that they offer a philosophical education in self-authorization by representing and enacting challenges to all claims to expert authority, including those of philosophy.