In an earlier volume, Narrative Inquiry in Music Education: Troubling Certainty (Barrett & Stauffer, Reference BARRETT and STAUFFER2009), the editors of the book reviewed here, adopted a tripartite structure: to explore the origins of narrative enquiry, and its ‘resonance’ (Section 1); to give examples of projects by early-career researchers, each coupled with a commentary by an experienced academic (Section 2); and to offer the viewpoints of philosopher Wayne Bowman and Jean Clandinin (Section 3; see Baker, Reference BAKER2009) who has written extensively in this arena (Clandinin & Connelly, Reference CLANDININ and CONNELLY1995, Reference CLANDININ and CONNELLY2000). Narrative Soundings: An Anthology of Narrative Inquiry in Music Education (2012) is a sequel to that book. It adds another, pleasing dimension with its six parts. This time, each section is comprised of chapters on topics such as ‘Lives in music and musical practices’, ‘Being and becoming a teacher’ and ‘Troubling persistent questions’. This text is effective in illustrating the many ways in which narratives are now used to address research questions in music education.

Driven in part by Jerome Bruner's (Reference BRUNER1993, Reference BRUNER2003) assertion that narratives are a distinct way of knowing, coupled with Deweyan educational thought (Reference DEWEY1910, Reference DEWEY1938), ‘storied’ research has emerged as a massive field, which is philosophically complex, interdisciplinary and often personal to its researchers. Its roots lie in humanist approaches in sociology and psychology. There is not one narrative approach or theoretical position, then, but many. Indeed, these approaches have pushed us far from the paradigmatic assumptions and ethical practices of the natural sciences (see, for instance, Dhunpath, Reference DHUNPATH2000). Researchers who partake do so because they consider ‘insider’ experience to be a valuable commodity (Muchmore, Reference MUCHMORE2000); furthermore, the knowledge generated is grounded in social and cultural contexts, it is interactional, subjective and unfolds over time. It can be that respondents’ ‘realities’ are a direct product of the interview transaction too. On that note, Munro (Reference MUNRO1998) suggests that life history texts are, ultimately, the creation of self because: ‘There is no identity outside narrative’ (p. 6). In a sense, ‘one's self is seen less as an anchor and source of narration than a product of it; self becomes discourse’ (Peacock & Holland, Reference PEACOCK and HOLLAND1993, p. 368). Moreover, as Barrett and Stauffer maintain, stories are a valuable way ‘we might trouble certainty, and raise questions about the “taken for granted”’ (p. 1).

Narrative research has become a robust tradition and – seemingly harking back to earlier sociological/ethnographic ‘cousins’, e.g. Shaw (Reference SHAW1930) and Lewis (Reference LEWIS1961) – it sometimes adopts an emancipatory angle with mention of ‘voice’ and the marginalized. Barrett and Stauffer's tome, it seems, contributes superbly to a vibrant research area that continues to gain in popularity.

On reading the opening chapter of Narrative Soundings, it becomes patent that the subject matter is potentially challenging, or maybe esoteric for the uninitiated, but, regardless, it is covered in a highly-accomplished manner. The editors helpfully reaffirm narrative enquiry as ‘resonant work’ here (pp. 7–13); they provide a framework for quality with necessary bedrocks of being ‘responsible’, ‘rigorous’, ‘respectful’ and creating ‘resilient’ works. As Gates et al. (Reference GATES, CHURCH, CROWE, Cole and Knowles2001) observe, ethical practice is the ‘binding matrix’ of biographical research and this, undoubtedly, applies to all narrative enquiry.

Part 1 is entitled ‘Lives in music and musical practices’: Contributors describe how they have learned through their research, from the fieldwork and analysis to its interpretation. Jean Cape and Jeananne Nichols's piece is a good case in point. It concerns the stories of women military band musicians. As they observe, women's contributions to military music are difficult to locate in written histories (p. 24); and so, through understanding them, we connect with a metanarrative ‘of women in the twentieth century demanding more of society and claiming new ground’ (p. 30). However, giving ‘voice’ to their respondents, Doris and Pat, also necessitates grappling with issues such as: whether or not one testimony is inherently better; and which reflects a truer narrative ethic. This is no easy matter and raises uncertainties regarding power:

In ‘Singular stories and master narratives’ (Part 2), Martina Miranda and Jeananne Nichols ‘trouble the certainty’ of educational practices by looking into kindergarten music and home-schooling respectively. Here we see the interaction of lives and policy. Miranda, in this vein, mentions an unfortunate platform of ‘formal instruction’ and a ‘pushed down’ early-childhood curriculum in the USA (also refer to Kagan & Zigler, Reference KAGAN and ZIGLER1987; Katz & McClellan, Reference KATZ and McCLENNAN1997, on fostering children's social competence). With an absorbing description of Sam and his teacher, Jenny, she rightly emphasizes the importance of thoughtful personal interaction for young children's social development. The author uses multiple perspectives, with some powerful data cited, to elucidate the impact of preconceptions on Sam's development within his classroom community. Interactions between children and their ‘responsible adults’ are an intricate and delicate matter; this is exceptionally well-handled by Miranda. She writes:

‘Narrative lessons’ (Part 3) turns briefly to Rishma Dunlop's ‘lyric essay’ on engagement with music. This artistic product is ‘a hybrid form that incorporates elements of poetry, poetics, and prose, as a vehicle for scholarly writing’ (p. 129). It tends to be organised in a fiercely individualistic manner; lyric essays are fragmentary, evocative and can be rather ethereal. They are fabricated to maximise contemplation from their audiences. Dunlop's submission certainly does that – a convergence of art and the social sciences; perhaps it is best for those more familiar with this art-form to make their own judgements on its quality.

In accord with the pedigree of narrative enquiry, Parts 4 and 5 form a substantial portion of the book: Part 4, ‘Being and becoming a teacher’, supplies readers with insights into the perspectives of pre-service specialist and generalist teachers; ‘Stories of selves’ (Part 5) then explores the experiences of early-career and veteran teachers. Alison Reynold's account of elementary music teachers and professional development (pp. 275–286) envisions the ‘ways in which the spark of feeling like a music teacher is kindled during in-service years, how professional development and . . . [practitioners’] experiences as teachers fan (or do not fan) the flame, and how they keep an eye on the fire’ (p. 276). It is a topic to which many of us relate. Her own reflections on the implications of professional development and ‘being’ a music teacher are included in this interpretation. There are substantial portions of data from her respondents also, which enliven the portrayal greatly.

The final part, ‘Troubling persistent questions’ (Part 6) entails various writers turning the investigative lens on themselves. In doing so, they address questions such as: ‘How do we know?’; ‘Do these findings or theories still hold?’; and ‘Is there another story to be considered?’ (p. 289). Thus, philosophical, theoretical, methodological and, sometimes, even pedagogical themes are touched upon. For example, Beth Ann Miller tells us about composition in her piano teaching; she recounts the ‘behaviourist’ approach of her own past wherein learners were passive receptacles of knowledge to, later, her embrace for ‘constructivism’, with learners as interactive, reflective thinkers (p. 306). Miller writes of the transformative potential of narrative, too, to examine her personal beliefs. For this author, ‘narrative inquiry is well suited to on-going endeavours like . . . [a] studio teaching setting where there is no final outcome, but a chronological, fluid, and continuing story of teaching and learning’ (p. 311). Undeniably, for those embarking on a narrative adventure for the first time, Part 6 will be indispensable; it will also be read by those wishing to develop new research ideas from rich, fertile ground.

Narrative Soundings takes the reader on a highly worthwhile journey across that fertile ground: through the philosophical underpinnings of the discipline; via numerous research examples (with only a few mentioned in this review); and on to narrative enquirers’ reflections on the research process. Its audience will be broad and, as a satisfied traveller, I recommend the book wholeheartedly.