Third Ear is a thought-provoking exploration of the power of deep listening, blending personal narrative with scientific inquiry in a way that is both enlightening and profoundly moving. Rosner’s unique upbringing in a multilingual household, shaped by the legacies of her Holocaust-survivor parents, provides a rich backdrop for examining how language, sound, and silence influence our relationships and our understanding of the world. Drawing from a diverse array of voices—from acoustic biologists to spiritual leaders—this book offers a holistic view of how listening deeply can foster empathy, bridge divides, and even transform communities. The blend of memoir and scholarly insight makes it an engaging read, urging readers to reconsider not just what they hear, but how they listen, and how this skill can unlock greater connection to both people and the natural world.

This was my first Rosner book, and it makes me want more of her writing. I studied communication disorders in college, and this book brings me back to communication past just the words we say. It also looks at communication between other species and how even over time their communication has changed. The final chapter brought tears to my eyes.

Elizabeth Rosner’s book, Third Ear, is a poetic and often illuminating meditation on not just sound and hearing, but on her own life experiences. This blend of memoir and study of one of the five senses is at its best when weaving stories about sound over time. As the author calls upon us to differentiate between hearing and listening, or notes the way language sounds in different tongues (and how people differ when speaking languages they inherently know), it’s deeply enthralling. I could have read another 200 pages of Third Ear discourse.

By contrast, the memoir passages are less compelling, as the stories are hers but they are also well-trodden. The wistful moments when grief touches the tales do elevate the work, however, as Rosner weaves her sonic theme in to fine effect. Yet, there are also significant passages where the ear doesn’t get much attention in the telling of the author’s misgivings about her religion’s treatment of women. The art is less here, but it’s not enough to derail an enjoyable and thoughtful read.