I just have to say that to start. I had a hard time getting into it at the beginning. Because it was weird. But once you get past that, this novel is amazing.
The story is about Abraham Lincoln visiting his son's grave the night after the funeral, told from the perspective a few of the spirits haunting the cemetery. Saunders drew the narrative from a historical tidbit about Lincoln actually visiting the grave several times.
It's written like this--half of it is historical quotations from books (more on that in a moment) that set the scene, the other half dialogue attributed to dozens of characters that come and go with really no rhyme or reason.
I know it sounds insane and hard to follow. And it is. But after about forty pages you find the rhythm of the story, and it all just makes sense.
So those historical notes from other books. Some of them are real. Most of them are fiction, written by George Saunders himself. But they're so well done that you can't tell the difference. Maybe the most entertaining is a section where several different "historical" accounts describe the moon on the night of Willie Lincoln's death. Almost every account describes the moon differently, which is something you'd expect from real historical accounts. But Saunders made them up.
And then the other half of the book. It's told by these spirits. You get a paragraph or more of their voice, and then an attribution below it so you know who is talking. That's it. Like I said earlier, it's a little weird when you begin reading. It's hard to figure out what's going on, and who's talking. But eventually you settle into the structure, and it actually becomes a fast read.
So then there's Saunders' writing. I'll only use one example, but man, there are a few lines in this novel that will take your breath away, that will make you weep. Such as:
"His mind was freshly inclined toward sorrow; toward the fact that the world was full of sorrow; that everyone labored under some burden of sorrow; that all were suffering; that whatever way one took in this world, one must try to remember that all were suffering (none content; all wronged, neglected, overlooked, misunderstood), and therefore one must do what one could to lighten the load of those with whom one came into contact; that his current state of sorrow was not uniquely his, not at all, but, rather, its like had been felt, would yet be felt, by scores of others, in all times, in every time, and must not be prolonged or exaggerated, because, in this state, he could be of no help to anyone and, given, that his position in the world situated him to be either of great help or great harm, it would not do to stay low, if he could help it."
And:
"I was in error when I saw him as fixed and stable and thought I would have him forever. He was never fixed, nor stable, but always just a passing temporary energy-burst. I had reason to know this. Had he not looked this way at birth, that way at four, another way at seven, been made entirely anew at nine? He had never stayed the same, even instant to instant.
He came out of nothingness, took form, was loved, was always bound to return to nothingness.
Only I did not think it would be so soon.
Or that he would precede us.
...I am not stable and Mary not stable and the very buildings and monuments here are not stable and the greater city not stable and the wide world not stable. All alter, are altering, in every instant."
This book is riddled with passages like those above. It's really beautiful.
Take the time to read this novel, because it's worth it. It'll be a struggle at first, but it's worth it in the end.
