Lincoln in the Bardo
by George Saunders
On This Page
Description
February 1862. The Civil War is less than one year old. The fighting has begun in earnest, and the nation has begun to realize it is in for a long, bloody struggle. Meanwhile, President Lincoln's beloved eleven-year-old son, Willie, lies upstairs in the White House, gravely ill. In a matter of days, despite predictions of a recovery, Willie dies and is laid to rest in a Georgetown cemetery. Newspapers report that a grief-stricken Lincoln returned to the crypt several times alone to hold his show more boy's body. Willie Lincoln finds himself in a strange purgatory, where ghosts mingle, gripe, commiserate, quarrel, and enact bizarre acts of penance. Within this transitional state, called, in the Tibetan tradition, the bardo, a monumental struggle erupts over young Willie's soul. show lessTags
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CGlanovsky Especially the final graveyard scene.
Also recommended by streamsong
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by anonymous user
kewing Conversations among the community of the dead in a graveyard.
benjclark A collection of fascinating, well-written tales that weave into a whole. Amazing!
whitsunweddings Similar "very sad magical realism civil war deaths" vibe.
Member Reviews
Can I do a whole novel of Saunders? I had doubts, and of course there was so much hype that I had doubts. But this was beautiful and moving and challenging and comforting. It's like a Bosch painting. The method and style were intrinsic to the content. Moment stick in my head even months later. Too bad I may never get back the copy I loaned out ...!
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 show more situated him to be either of great help or great harm, it would not do to stay low, if he could help it.
Not surprisingly, George Saunders's first novel expanded the already beautifully articulated themes of his short stories―the internal struggle to do the right thing, the battle against pettiness, the shared struggles of those simply trying to be. The above passage serves as a thesis statement of sorts for much of Saunders's work. In the particular instance of Lincoln in the Bardo, these themes are explored in a Dante-esque circle of purgatory―beings avoiding their next step by denying their condition. Among them, Willie―Abraham Lincoln's recently deceased son.
Told both in excerpts from historical accounts (fictitious and real), as well as through inner observations from those in this liminal realm, the novel follows a trio of jaded bardo denizens as they take it upon themselves to help Willie transition into whatever comes next after observing President Lincoln's powerful sorrow at the boy's tomb. The revelations and surreal encounters that follow are a testament to the necessity of compassion as a means of understanding another person. Evidently, the struggle to be decent continues into the afterlife, but Saunders tells us that one can be of great help if one is so inclined. Such a message could hardly be more timely. show less
Not surprisingly, George Saunders's first novel expanded the already beautifully articulated themes of his short stories―the internal struggle to do the right thing, the battle against pettiness, the shared struggles of those simply trying to be. The above passage serves as a thesis statement of sorts for much of Saunders's work. In the particular instance of Lincoln in the Bardo, these themes are explored in a Dante-esque circle of purgatory―beings avoiding their next step by denying their condition. Among them, Willie―Abraham Lincoln's recently deceased son.
Told both in excerpts from historical accounts (fictitious and real), as well as through inner observations from those in this liminal realm, the novel follows a trio of jaded bardo denizens as they take it upon themselves to help Willie transition into whatever comes next after observing President Lincoln's powerful sorrow at the boy's tomb. The revelations and surreal encounters that follow are a testament to the necessity of compassion as a means of understanding another person. Evidently, the struggle to be decent continues into the afterlife, but Saunders tells us that one can be of great help if one is so inclined. Such a message could hardly be more timely. show less
This is a book that really challenged the way I read and interpret fiction. Written in verse, this book made me slow down, soak up each sentence and take my time. There is a lot to savor in Lincoln in the Bardo – passages that were funny, disturbing, deeply poignant; all begging to be re-read again and again. Take this passage, for example, when a spirit is contemplating what his death meant to those left behind:
"What I mean to say is, we had been considerable. Had been loved. Not lonely, not lost, not freakish, but wise, each in his or her own way. Our departures caused pain. Those who had loved us sat upon their beds, heads in hand; lowered their faces to tabletops, making animal noises. We had been loved, I say, and remembering us, show more even many years later, people would smile, briefly gladdened at the memory."
That’s just one of many passages I marked and dog-eared to return to and contemplate. Easily my favorite read of the month! show less
"What I mean to say is, we had been considerable. Had been loved. Not lonely, not lost, not freakish, but wise, each in his or her own way. Our departures caused pain. Those who had loved us sat upon their beds, heads in hand; lowered their faces to tabletops, making animal noises. We had been loved, I say, and remembering us, show more even many years later, people would smile, briefly gladdened at the memory."
That’s just one of many passages I marked and dog-eared to return to and contemplate. Easily my favorite read of the month! show less
Where to start with George Saunders? You don't have to be a fan of the classic film "Truly, Madly, Deeply" to appreciate the humour of "Lincoln in the Bardo," but it helps. The plot of this story takes place in a cemetery in Washington, DC. Abraham Lincoln has lost his son Willie to infection. His son is buried in a tomb in the cemetery. Lincoln goes late at night to the cemetery to mourn his son. The cemetery is home to a number of the spirits of the departed seemingly in a hiatus on their way to heaven or hell. The spirits take pity on the dead child and try to help him connect with his still living father. They fail of course, but their compassion is addictive.
The spirits in turn narrate the story, and their stories, and Saunders show more amplifies the story with live accounts of Lincoln, his White House, and the death of his child. The spirits appear almost as a Greek Chorus to the immediate tragedy, if not the tragedy of the age, and the serial tragedies of American history including the divided society, slavery, the abuse of women, and political nihilism.
So many ghosts in the story bring to mind Hamlet, the Gates of Hell in Dante's Inferno, and the funny, funny stream of consciousness of Finnegan's Wake, or Joyce's great Ulysses monologues.
As with so many of Saunders' stories the prose soars. With the hopelessness of death comes the promise of re-birth and redemption. That goodness and brotherhood will somehow confound all the killing appears with the dawn. So plaintively in the background is the voice of William Faulkner's "As I Lay Dying." There is futility and there is hope. And there is layer upon layer of irony.
So much of this story seems to be built on the cult of the President, in this case a tired, sad man in whom the ghosts build their hopes for redemption even while he orders tens of thousands of Union youth to their early graves. He leaves the cemetery to resume the killing in the hopes of a brighter day. His "White House" is a sepulchre.
It may be too early to call this work a classic. I would and should read it a few more times first. show less
The spirits in turn narrate the story, and their stories, and Saunders show more amplifies the story with live accounts of Lincoln, his White House, and the death of his child. The spirits appear almost as a Greek Chorus to the immediate tragedy, if not the tragedy of the age, and the serial tragedies of American history including the divided society, slavery, the abuse of women, and political nihilism.
So many ghosts in the story bring to mind Hamlet, the Gates of Hell in Dante's Inferno, and the funny, funny stream of consciousness of Finnegan's Wake, or Joyce's great Ulysses monologues.
As with so many of Saunders' stories the prose soars. With the hopelessness of death comes the promise of re-birth and redemption. That goodness and brotherhood will somehow confound all the killing appears with the dawn. So plaintively in the background is the voice of William Faulkner's "As I Lay Dying." There is futility and there is hope. And there is layer upon layer of irony.
So much of this story seems to be built on the cult of the President, in this case a tired, sad man in whom the ghosts build their hopes for redemption even while he orders tens of thousands of Union youth to their early graves. He leaves the cemetery to resume the killing in the hopes of a brighter day. His "White House" is a sepulchre.
It may be too early to call this work a classic. I would and should read it a few more times first. show less
George Saunders transitions from short stories to a novel and the resulting book is truly phenomenal.
Lincoln In The Bardo is about the death of Abraham Lincoln's 11 year old son, Willie, who died of typhoid fever (Bardo was an unfamiliar word to me before this book - it means a transitional zone for souls after death).
The book is narrated by the various ghosts who don't know they are dead (nor do they recognize Lincoln), and who occupy the same cemetery as Willie. These ghosts represent various Americans from all social classes and even though they are dead, I found their stories to be rather interesting and I did not want to put down this book until I had figured out why exactly everyone was still hanging around the Bardo.
Throughout show more the book, we see Lincoln struggling with his own personal loss while at the same time understanding that the gravity of his Presidential decisions would mean loss and sorrow for others (but the means would hopefully justify the end). It's a dual look at loss - that loss which you have no control over - and the loss which may affect others as a result of your decisions.
Saunders is a master satirist and he deploys his skill cleverly here. He also takes his writing to a new depth by depicting humanity with such empathy, not by manipulating our emotions, but by writing genuinely and with such heart as to make us actually feel the sorrow of Lincoln's loss. This book made me think a lot about how we get trapped within our own former selves and can't move on; personal loss by way of natural events and by way of others; the complications of measuring grief; and how we can rise up to the challenges that we each face when they come amidst such grief and sorrow.
Lincoln In The Bardo is a reminder that Lincoln was in a league of his own as a President and for that matter, so is Saunders as a writer.
Many thanks to Random House and NetGalley for allowing me to read an ARC in exchange for an honest review. show less
Lincoln In The Bardo is about the death of Abraham Lincoln's 11 year old son, Willie, who died of typhoid fever (Bardo was an unfamiliar word to me before this book - it means a transitional zone for souls after death).
The book is narrated by the various ghosts who don't know they are dead (nor do they recognize Lincoln), and who occupy the same cemetery as Willie. These ghosts represent various Americans from all social classes and even though they are dead, I found their stories to be rather interesting and I did not want to put down this book until I had figured out why exactly everyone was still hanging around the Bardo.
Throughout show more the book, we see Lincoln struggling with his own personal loss while at the same time understanding that the gravity of his Presidential decisions would mean loss and sorrow for others (but the means would hopefully justify the end). It's a dual look at loss - that loss which you have no control over - and the loss which may affect others as a result of your decisions.
Saunders is a master satirist and he deploys his skill cleverly here. He also takes his writing to a new depth by depicting humanity with such empathy, not by manipulating our emotions, but by writing genuinely and with such heart as to make us actually feel the sorrow of Lincoln's loss. This book made me think a lot about how we get trapped within our own former selves and can't move on; personal loss by way of natural events and by way of others; the complications of measuring grief; and how we can rise up to the challenges that we each face when they come amidst such grief and sorrow.
Lincoln In The Bardo is a reminder that Lincoln was in a league of his own as a President and for that matter, so is Saunders as a writer.
Many thanks to Random House and NetGalley for allowing me to read an ARC in exchange for an honest review. show less
This was a book-club selection that I was afraid to start reading, because from the descriptions I read I thought it would be the kind of chilly experimental fiction I usually avoid. I was so wrong. After a rough start, during which I just had to resign myself to being confused, I found it one of the most moving books I've read in years. For those who don't know, the premise is that a distraught President Lincoln comes to visit the crypt housing the body of his young son Willie, who died of typhoid. Unbeknownst to Lincoln, the graveyard is populated by residents of the Bardo, a concept from Eastern religion but essential a kind of purgatory or halfway house for the dead who have refused to transition. Willie himself, after the first show more visit from his father, decides to stay in the Bardo, and all the others band together to help him leave, knowing that children in the Bardo meet a gruesome fate. I know this all sounds strange, but the book was sometimes very funny, sometimes grotesque, often poignant and sad. When people make the decision to leave the Bardo, their exit was beautiful, and for all the grief, regret, and anger expressed by the Bardo residents, there is a thread of love and hope that makes the book an oddly uplifting read. show less
In February 1862, President Abraham Lincoln's eleven-year-old son, Willie, caught a cold. Assured by his doctor that it wasn't serious, Lincoln tried to carry on with his normal routine. It quickly turned to typhus, however, and Willie died. Heart-stricken, the President had him interred in a borrowed crypt, until such time as he could be moved to a cemetery in Illinois next to his brother. Newspapers of the times reported that Lincoln then went back to the crypt and held his dead son. From this snippet of alleged history, George Saunders created an extremely inventive and moving novel exploring the nature and limits of grief.
In Buddhism, a bardo is a transitional state between life and rebirth. According to Wikipedia, "the Tibetan Book show more of the Dead is a text intended to both guide the recently deceased person through the death bardo to gain a better rebirth and also to help their loved ones with the grieving process." Saunders choses to set his novel in this liminal space and people it with a wide variety of characters, each of whom is clinging to something in their past life, whether a wrong or a person or something else, and thus fail to move beyond. A key commonality between these characters is that they have not accepted that they are dead, but think of themselves as sick and somewhere "else" only until they are better and return to the world of "before". When they do accept both their past and their demise, they vanish. Into this bardo, Willie appears and is befriended by Roger Bevins, Hans Vollman, and Reverend Thomas. They try to help him pass quickly to the place beyond, as the bardo is particularly dangerous for children. In order to help Willie, they must also help Lincoln deal with his grief.
Although this plot is in itself quite creative, it is the structure of the book that is most inventive. It is composed entirely of quotes, from both characters in the book, but also historical sources, both primary and secondary. All quotes are attributed, but it is never clarified which are historical and which invented. This deliberate blurring of fact and fiction and the inclusion of quotes which contradict one another (were Lincoln's eyes blue-gray or brown? were the Lincolns negligent in holding a state dinner the night during which Willie would die, or was it commendable of them to continue with governing while a child was sick upstairs?) leads the reader to think of historical sources as only somewhat true and fiction possibly true. While it might sound as though the novel would be terribly disjointed and hard to follow, it is so well-constructed that it reads almost like a regular novel. It is a tribute to Saunders abilities as a writer that he was able to pull off such a literary experiment.
Overall, the novel is both brilliantly constructed and written, and incredibly moving. Each character in the bardo has a story, a reason for wanting to remain in this world, and a unique voice. Given that there are 166 characters (each represented by a different person on the audio edition), that is a feat. In addition, the grief of a parent who loses a child (never mind two in the case of Lincoln) is beautifully rendered and even tied to the losses being incurred in the ongoing Civil War. Well-deserving of the Man Booker Prize, Lincoln in the Bardo is a stunning piece of literature. show less
In Buddhism, a bardo is a transitional state between life and rebirth. According to Wikipedia, "the Tibetan Book show more of the Dead is a text intended to both guide the recently deceased person through the death bardo to gain a better rebirth and also to help their loved ones with the grieving process." Saunders choses to set his novel in this liminal space and people it with a wide variety of characters, each of whom is clinging to something in their past life, whether a wrong or a person or something else, and thus fail to move beyond. A key commonality between these characters is that they have not accepted that they are dead, but think of themselves as sick and somewhere "else" only until they are better and return to the world of "before". When they do accept both their past and their demise, they vanish. Into this bardo, Willie appears and is befriended by Roger Bevins, Hans Vollman, and Reverend Thomas. They try to help him pass quickly to the place beyond, as the bardo is particularly dangerous for children. In order to help Willie, they must also help Lincoln deal with his grief.
Although this plot is in itself quite creative, it is the structure of the book that is most inventive. It is composed entirely of quotes, from both characters in the book, but also historical sources, both primary and secondary. All quotes are attributed, but it is never clarified which are historical and which invented. This deliberate blurring of fact and fiction and the inclusion of quotes which contradict one another (were Lincoln's eyes blue-gray or brown? were the Lincolns negligent in holding a state dinner the night during which Willie would die, or was it commendable of them to continue with governing while a child was sick upstairs?) leads the reader to think of historical sources as only somewhat true and fiction possibly true. While it might sound as though the novel would be terribly disjointed and hard to follow, it is so well-constructed that it reads almost like a regular novel. It is a tribute to Saunders abilities as a writer that he was able to pull off such a literary experiment.
Overall, the novel is both brilliantly constructed and written, and incredibly moving. Each character in the bardo has a story, a reason for wanting to remain in this world, and a unique voice. Given that there are 166 characters (each represented by a different person on the audio edition), that is a feat. In addition, the grief of a parent who loses a child (never mind two in the case of Lincoln) is beautifully rendered and even tied to the losses being incurred in the ongoing Civil War. Well-deserving of the Man Booker Prize, Lincoln in the Bardo is a stunning piece of literature. show less
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Author Information
50+ Works 25,490 Members
George Saunders is the author of CivilWarLand in Bad Decline and Pastoralia. (Publisher Provided) George Saunders was born in Amarillo, Texas on December 2, 1958. He received a bachelor's degree in geophysical engineering and a master's degree in creative writing from Syracuse University. He is a professor at Syracuse University and a writer of show more short stories, essays, novellas, and children's books. He won the National Magazine Award for fiction in 1994, 1996, 2000, and 2004 His books include CivilWarLand in Bad Decline, Pastoralia, The Very Persistent Gappers of Frip, The Brief and Frightening Reign of Phil, In Persuasion Nation, and Tenth of December: Stories, which won the inaugural Folio Prize in 2014. His debut novel, Lincoln in the Bardo, received the Man Booker Prize in 2017. (Bowker Author Biography) show less
Some Editions
Awards and Honors
Awards
Distinctions
Amazon.com Best Books (Top 20 – 2017)
The Guardian Book of the Day (2017-03-05)
Notable Lists
The Great American Novels (2017)
Series
Belongs to Publisher Series
Mirmanda (171)
Work Relationships
Common Knowledge
- Canonical title
- Lincoln in the Bardo
- Original title
- Lincoln in the Bardo
- Original publication date
- 2017
- People/Characters
- Abraham Lincoln; Willie Lincoln; Hans Vollman; Roger Bevins III; Everly Thomas; Elise Traynor (show all 17); Jane Ellis; Cecil Stone; Maxwell Boise; Abigail Blass; Eddie Baron; Betsy Baron; Percival Collier; Benjamin Twood; Jasper Randall; Francis Hodge; Thomas Havens
- Important places
- Oak Hill Cemetery, Georgetown, Washington, D. C., USA
- Important events
- American Civil War; Death of Willie Lincoln (1862)
- Dedication
- For Caitlin and Alena
- First words
- On our wedding day I was forty-six, she was eighteen.
- Quotations
- I will never forget those solemn moments—genius and greatness weeping over the love's lost idol.
Having never loved or been loved in that previous place, they were frozen here in a youthful state of perpetual emotional vacuity; interested only in freedom, profligacy, and high-jinks, railing against any limitation or comm... (show all)itment whatsoever.
In truth, we were bored, so very bored, so continually bored.
Birds being distrustful of our ilk.
Any admiration we might once have felt for their endurance had long since devolved into revulsion.
The crowd, having suspended its perversities, stood gaping at Mr. Bevins, who had acquired, in the telling, such a bounty of extra eyes, ears, noses, hands, etc., that he now resembled some overstuffed fleshly bouquet.
Bev... (show all)ins applied his usual remedy (closing the eyes and stopping as many of the noses and ears as he could with the various extra hands, dulling, thereby, all sensory intake, thus quieting the mind) and multiple sets of the eyes, ears, noses, and hands retracted or vanished (I could never tell which).
Walk-skimming between (or over, when unavoidable) the former home-places of so many fools no longer among us.
These were a chirpy, tepid, desireless sort, generally, and had lingered, if at all, for only the briefest of moments, so completely satisfactory had they found their tenure in that previous place.
The two now comprised one sitting man, Mr. Vollman's greater girth somewhat overflowing the gentleman, his massive member existing wholly outside the gentleman, pointing up at the moon.
The dead at Donelson, sweet Jesus. Heaped and piled like threshed wheat, one on top of two on top of three. I walked through it after with a bad feeling. Lord it was me done that, I thought.
The dead lay as they had fallen, in every conceivable shape, some grasping their guns as though they were in the act of firing, while others, with a cartridge in their icy grasp, were in the act of loading. Some of the counte... (show all)nances wore a peaceful, glad smile, while on others rested a fiendish look of hate. It looked as though each countenance was the exact counterpart of the thoughts that were passing through the mind when the death messenger laid them low. Perhaps that noble-looking youth, with his smiling up-turned face, with his glossy ringlets matted with his own life-blood, felt a mother's prayer stealing over his senses as his young life went out. Near him lay a young husband with a prayer for his wife and little one yet lingering on his lips. Youth and age, virtue and evil, were represented on those ghastly countenances. Before us lay the charred and blackened remains of some who had been burnt alive. They were wounded so badly to move and the fierce elements consumed them.
(So why grieve?
The worst of it, for him, is over.)
Because I loved him so and am in the habit of loving him and that love must take the form of fussing and worry and doing.
Mr. Vollman bearing his tremendous member in his hands, so as not to trip himself on it.
Some blows fall too heavy upon those too fragile.
Regarding a face & carriage so uniquely arranged by Nature, one's opinion of it seemed to depend more than usual on the predisposition of the Observer.
Oh, the pathos of it!—haggard, drawn into fixed lines of unutterable sadness, with a look of loneliness, as of a soul whose depth of sorrow and bitterness no human sympathy could ever reach. The impression I carried away wa... (show all)s that I had seen, not so much the President of the United States, as the saddest man in the world.
Strange, isn't it? To have dedicated one's life to a certain venture, neglecting other aspects of one's life, only to have that venture, in the end, amount to nothing at all, the products of one's labors utterly forgotten?
Well, what of it.
No one who has ever done anything worth doing has gone uncriticized.
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.
Two passing temporarinesses developed feelings fo... (show all)r one another.
The thousand dresses, laid out so reverently that afternoon, flecks of dust brushed off carefully in doorways, hems gathered up for the carriage trip: where are they now? Are some yet saved in attics? Most are dust. As are th... (show all)e women who wore them so proudly in that transient moment of radiance. (7%)
Trap. Horrible trap. At one's birth it is sprung. Some last day must arrive. When you will need to get out of this body. Bad enough. Then we bring a baby here. The terms of the trap are compounded. That baby also must depart.... (show all) All pleasure sshuld be tainted with that knowledge. But hopeful, dear us, we forget. (46%)
Strange, isn't it? To have dedicated one's life to a certain venture, neglecting other aspects of one's life, only to have that venture, in the end, amount to nothing at all, the products of one's labors utterly forgotten? (6... (show all)0%)
He came out of nothingness, took form, was loved, was always bound to return to nothingness. (70%)
We were that way at the time, and had been led to that place not by any innate evil in ourselves, but by the state of cognition and our experiences up until that moment. (78%)
At the core of each lay suffering, our eventual end, the many losses we must experince on the way to that end. (87%)
Must end suffering by causing more suffering. (88%)
He was an open book. An opening book. That had just been opened up somewhat wider. By sorrow. And -- by us. By all of us, black and white... (89%) - Last words
- (Click to show. Warning: May contain spoilers.)And we rode forward into the night, past the sleeping houses of our countrymen. thomas havens
- Blurbers
- Kakutani, Michiko; Hosseini, Khaled; Diaz, Junot; Eggers, Dave; Smith, Zadie; Moore, Lorrie (show all 7); Pynchon, Thomas
- Original language
- English
- Canonical DDC/MDS
- 813.54
- Canonical LCC
- PS3569.A7897
Classifications
- Genres
- Historical Fiction, General Fiction, Fiction and Literature, Fantasy
- DDC/MDS
- 813.54 — Literature & rhetoric American literature in English American fiction in English 1900-1999 1945-1999
- LCC
- PS3569 .A7897 — Language and Literature American literature American literature Individual authors 1961-
- BISAC
Statistics
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- 7,330
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- 1,573
- Reviews
- 394
- Rating
- (3.92)
- Languages
- 18 — Catalan, Chinese, Danish, Dutch, English, Finnish, French, German, Greek, Hungarian, Italian, Korean, Polish, Spanish, Swedish, Turkish, Portuguese (Portugal), Portuguese (Brazil)
- Media
- Paper, Audiobook, Ebook
- ISBNs
- 68
- ASINs
- 17