How To Choose a Book to Read Aloud, or, Parley for All Ages

The joy of reading aloud, especially at busy holidays, has been mentioned. (It also features prominently in this our philosophy). Books that possess this capability are more than simply accessible, they are enthralling. For, at heart we are an oral species still--tho' the days of cultural identities passed from mother-to-child or elder-to-group before a fire are, for a large percentage of the world, over, we instinctively relate to the cadences of the human voice.

But how to choose the perfect book?

When reading to a mixed audience, it is good to know what the attention level is. One wouldn't want to be stuck on the B section of Dr. Johnson's Dictionary, just to choose an example at random, if there are squirming children around the table, or squirming businesspeople at a meeting. The trick is to select a book that holds an appeal for everyone, even if it requires a slight alteration of the text. (If little Xanthis is currently obsessed with pirates/vampires/Norsemen/aliens/zombies/Roman Senators/talking animals, perhaps a little tasteful editing is in order). Best of all, a book that has everything.

Jerome K. Jerome is a good place to start, for the last idea mentioned. The classics are really underrated for humour--try Dickens' Our Mutual Friend, or a Jane Austen novel. Vikings may not be period, but with a little dexterity, it may be possible to work them in. The undying Complete Sherlock Holmes is another good place to start.

Another option, rather than subjecting the children to adults' books, is to subject the adults to children's books. Eva Ibbotson and Joan Aiken hold much for the discerning reader, regardless of age.

Just be sure that whatever book you choose contains no 'bathroom humour'. It isn't that funny, really. Really.

Suggestions: good books for reading aloud? Please do submit as comments, or join our discussion here.

A Holiday Scene, Or, How To Snare Even The Most Attention-Deficient of Relatives

It is the evening of a holiday.

You are all clustered 'round a table laden with the remains of a feast. Only a few derelict pieces of sponge cake remain; everyone's glass is nearly empty. Conversation flags. The children are somewhere beneath the table--you can feel them, tugging at your feet, and plucking at Great Aunt Meredith's shoes.

What to do?

All new news has long since been exhausted, and your relatives have started in on their favourite subjects--you respond, drearily, the with the same noncommital phrases they have heard time and time again, and still cease to understand. Old tensions rise. Old arguments stir. Sensibilities rankle.

What to say?

There is only another hour or two until you can righteously turn them out--time for a board game (only the rules are missing)--or, should you resort to turning on the television?

How differently things would go, if only you had a book to read aloud!

Reading aloud over a dinner table--an antiquated, funny old notion, from the bygone days when people would cluster around a piano in the tiny parlor, to be entertained. An adventurous notion, requiring relatives to put on their spectacles, crank up their character voices, and fall into the tale.

The children have crawled up from under the table; they wish to be involved. Little Alfred's chapter may take forever, but he feels proud at its end, for having navigated words such as 'pecuniary' and 'Herculean'. If it is a humorous book, all the better--the ice is instantly broken! No-one minds about Aunt Agatha's creaky voice, or Cousin Matthias' inability to differentiate between the female characters and the male.

When the evening is done, you may rest assured, they will come again. And leave their arguments behind.