07/08/2024

“Dialogue is happening all around us,” according to this lyrical blend of memoir and science. Novelist Rosner (Survivor Café), the daughter of German- and Polish-born Holocaust survivors, recounts growing up in a multilingual household in Upstate New York, where her parents’ accents marked them as outsiders. Recalling how she and her parents have struggled to listen to each other, Rosner describes how when she was a child, she covered her ears and chanted “English” whenever her mother tried to sing Russian lullabies, and contends that her parents coped with trauma from WWII by yelling at her. Though her mother died suddenly at age 70 before Rosner had a chance to make amends, she suggests that her relationship with her father improved toward the end of his life and offers a poignant account of listening with him to the audiobook of Survivor Café, which Rosner wrote about his experiences at Buchenwald. Interspersed with the personal narrative are passages about sound’s role in the natural world; for instance, Rosner explains that humpback whales “compose ever-changing songs to communicate,” and that elephants can “talk” by making rumbling noises other elephants detect through their feet. Rosner justifies the unlikely juxtaposition of personal recollections and animal trivia by suggesting that both demonstrate how, in the words of naturalist David G. Haskell, “to listen... is to be open to the vitality and creativity of life.” This soothes the soul. (Sept.)

Literary Hub, A Most Anticipated Book of the Year

"A lively, perceptive book about how and what we hear." —Bethanne Patrick, Los Angeles Times

"Pay attention. That’s the core message of the Berkeley writer’s brisk, collage-like book, a blend of memoir, her interviews with attentive people from various professions and findings from scientific studies . . . This book exudes an irresistible brand of eagerness—for knowledge, for the perspectives of strangers, for tomorrow and the day after. As quoted by Rosner, a scientist who works with endangered elephants says the animals 'need more people to care about them.' Caring, in Rosner’s appealing formulation, is indistinguishable from listening." —Kevin Canfield, San Francisco Chronicle

"[Rosner's] expansive, fluid meditation on so-called third-ear listening—a deeply attuned, intuitive way of perceiving the world that transcends the physically audible—is rooted in personal experience, but the contemplative vignettes explore our sonic universe . . . This poignant exploration of the hidden depths of the soundscapes around us reveals the importance of listening with more than just our ears." —Dana Dunham, Scientific American

"To masterfully blend memoir with science writing is to create one of the most compelling kinds of book—one whose insights are both cerebral and emotional." —Jessie Gaynor, Literary Hub

"Deeply sourced, devotedly researched, and refreshingly candid, Rosner’s searing observations on the various ways this crazy world can be navigated, appreciated, and understood open new avenues for thought and exploration." —Booklist (starred review)

"A book packed with perceptions and revelations. Science and art meet in this eloquent study of the aural world around us." —Kirkus Reviews (starred review)

"[A] lyrical blend of memoir and science . . . This soothes the soul." —Publishers Weekly

"Deep listening found here. Connecting our collective soundscape with her own, Rosner reveals a spirit and depth of insight few have shown in this realm. Listen to just one of her paragraphs and your future footfalls will never sound the same." ––Edie Meidav, author of Another Love Discourse and Lola, California

“There is a world of knowledge of listening floating around us, in sound and on the page. No one has connected these stories to their own life and memories better than Elizabeth Rosner. I thought I knew this material after years of swimming in it, but she has revealed depths of sonic purpose through the unique connections she draws. This is a rare and profound book.” ––David Rothenberg, author of Whale Music and Secret Sounds of Ponds

"Elizabeth Rosner asks us to consider how listening can profoundly shape who we are, long before we really understand what it is we've heard." —Bonnie Tsui, bestselling author of Why We Swim and American Chinatown

“Elizabeth Rosner’s Third Ear should be required for the entire human race. Rosner is one of the greatest writers and thinkers of our time—with insight into this century’s difficult socio-political and ethical questions. With clarity and intimacy, Rosner renders a sonic universe in which reciprocity connects all of life through deep listening. We are one small part of a large, delicate ecosystem—from the soil bioacoustics to the toxic pesticides we use, from the extinction of different species to the threat of our own. Third Ear gives us a second chance to look inside ourselves and find something human in us.” —E. J. Koh, author of The Liberators and The Magical Language of Others

“Third Ear: Reflections on the Art and Science of Listening is a marvel—a beautifully-written, meticulously researched, and fascinating exploration of the transformative power of listening. If you’re anything like me, your copy will be dog-eared and underlined, like all of your favorite books.” —Adrienne Brodeur, author of Wild Game

★ 2024-08-02
A gentle essay on the world’s soundscapes, many of which often go unheard.

An elephant, writes novelist Rosner, gestates with its feet next to the lining of its mother’s womb, receiving information “at infrasonic levels inaccessible to our ears.” When it emerges, it listens with its feet as well as its ears. Human babies hear high-frequency sounds much more clearly than do adults, which adults accommodate by heightening their vocal pitch when talking to them, which in turn “makes babies feel safe.” And who knew that a baby’s babbling might be a “way of processing stress”? Well, babies have plenty to be stressed about, and so too adults, one reason why it’s restful to read of Rosner’s immersion in a placid sea surrounded by a pod of chattering dolphins. She writes that she first became aware of the meanings of both words and silence in the speech of her multilingual parents, survivors of the Holocaust, who cloaked sensitive discussions in languages inaccessible to their children’s ears. “Maybe this prepared me for a life of eavesdropping on the world, listening with all of my senses, reaching toward sources of interconnection,” she writes. Without ever losing coherence, her narrative skips around to many topics: on one page she’s writing of the linguistic abilities of a beloved dog, which she’s convinced could pick out her toys by name, while on another she recalls a culture more revealed by a Cheyenne writer who would not “jump in” to a conversation, but instead waited to be invited to enter it, understanding that, that way, she would be heard. Horse whispering, telephones for calling the dearly departed, the terror of hearing loss in old age, “the holiness of birdsong”: This is a book packed with perceptions and revelations.

Science and art meet in this eloquent study of the aural world around us.