"Reading aloud is the best" in personal essay format. This one is definitely geared toward educated, yuppie parents who want to give their kids a good start in the world, and find that family closeness amid the screens of the 21st century.
Growing up home schooled, other children often told me, "My mom and I would kill each other if we were at home all day together!" Matricide notwithstanding, I wonder if what they were missing in their relationships was the shared language and experience bequeathed by reading aloud, by sharing books together. My mom is a kindergarten teacher, so you can imagine the amount and quality of books/reading aloud present in our home. My brother's two-year-old dramatic "reading" of The Tale of Peter Rabbit is family legend. But even as we outgrew picture books, we continued to share literature as a family, largely though parent/child education, but even beyond that. We listened to Johnny Tremain on a family vacation to Boston, and nothing compares to visiting the historical sights brought to vivid life in the story. In high school, though my mom bore the brunt of teaching, my dad would listen to audiobooks of the literature I was assigned, and we would discuss them in a very grown-up way that flattered my fifteen-year-old self. Even when we had nothing else to talk about in my teen years, we could talk about books, and through them, connect on a deeper level.
Gurdon promotes reading aloud in every way possible. She pulls widely from studies, anecdotes, and her own little experiments. I loved the feel-good stories about non-profits that allow imprisoned and deployed parents to read to their children via video, an autistic boy connecting with his parents through reading, the effects of reading in the NICU, and sharing storytime with elderly Holocaust survivors. Having more than one family member suffering from dementia, I look forward to pulling out a book to read aloud to them when circumstances allow, knowing that it has emotional benefits even if the intellectual ones are uncertain.
Recently, I read How to Raise a Reader, which is more focused on independent reading and giving parents book lists. The books don't need to be pitted against each other, but they are different. The Enchanted Hour is written as a collection of personal essays, combining elements of memoir, journalism, research, and argument. How to Raise a Reader is a collection of bite-size encouragements for parents and lots of recommendations. The Enchanted Hour has book lists (instead of an index, honestly) at the very end. It's not quite as focused on raising title awareness as it is encouraging parents to turn off the TV, God help you, and read to your children.
I'm not exactly the target audience for this book. I'm a reader myself, my husband and I read aloud to each other already, we don't even have a TV (they interrupt my decor, and that's what streaming on laptops is for!), and we aren't planning to have kids anytime soon. Plus, I found myself correcting/expanding plenty of Gurdon's research in my head, because she focused too much on psychological/neuroscientific research and too little on language acquisition research to buttress her argument. Yes, Dr. Abubakar, babies in utero absolutely do hear and even distinguish between their mother's language and other languages when hearing other speech. (p. 49) Babies in utero will also recognize books read to them in the womb when they hear them outside the womb. (Basic research into child language acquisition, which was the subject of one glorious week of my college career, showed me all of this and more. Never underestimate babies' ability to understand language. They are aurally fluent in a language long before they speak it, because speaking is hard!)
This is the type of book I'd give to a bookish friend who was having a baby, along with a stack of good picture books. I doubt it will attract the non-reader parent, honestly, which is the hardest part. Much of what Gurdon promotes really depends on the willingness of parents to read with their children, and their conviction that doing so is important. Thus, some of what Gurdon says can feel classist. Yet, with local libraries abounding and book-centric non-profits a dime a dozen, I hope her work will not go unheeded, and many more enchanted hours established in homes around the world.