Welcome to the Refinery29 Book Club! Each month, members of the team will read a book that has everyone talking, before sharing our thoughts and feelings with you. Join in the conversation or recommend a book for next month in the comments below.
We know what you're thinking. George Saunders: white, middle-aged, male. The winner of 2017's Man Booker prize, which isn't exactly known for championing young, female, diverse voices (a woman has walked away victorious just 17 times in almost 50 years). When you google his name, the internet elves who like to pre-empt your next move suggest you also look up David Foster Wallace, John Updike, Thomas Pynchon: highbrow, high-concept, 'bro ' authors with a habit of popping up on the bookshelves of a certain sort of man. What can this book possibly have to do with my life? And what's a 'bardo' anyway?
Well, prepare to change your mind because Lincoln in the Bardo is something else. Undeniably experimental in form – Saunders calls on history and fiction, the living and the dead – it is, nonetheless, breathtakingly human. In Saunders' hands, the death of Abraham Lincoln's 11-year-old son becomes an exploration of life, love, and loss; of grief and regret; of what happens when we die, and that all-too-common feeling: if only we had a little more time...
So don't be put off by that title ('bardo', by the way, is a Buddhist term for the state of the soul between death and rebirth); this is not a book for bros, it's a book for us all. Click on for more thoughts from the team at Refinery29 UK, or head below the line – we'd love to hear your opinion, too!
Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders is out now in paperback, published by Bloomsbury.
Sadhbh O'Sullivan, Social Media Assistant
What were your initial thoughts?
The narrative conceit (split between told history of the day and a murky purgatory filled with the souls of those who refuse to believe they are dead) is... discombobulating at first. It's not hard to read necessarily, but it's not a traditional narrative by any means. It took me a while to get into it but then I never actually wanted to stop reading it.
And final thoughts?
I loved it! Never read anything quite like it – it was simultaneously a raucous and painful and touching look at grief. Big fan of the 'ghosts'. On a less flippant note, I really enjoy anything that can draw attention to the way that history is so rarely objective – to get the full picture you have to assemble it through fragments and the many, many eyes and memories of those who were there (or imagine them to be there). Not to get too 'I have an English degree' but it's such an interesting contrast to grief and how memory works when someone has gone. What is a person when they have died? An assembly of memories, anything 'final' has disappeared and is unknowable.
Was it an enjoyable read?
Definitely. It's not a difficult read like I was anticipating, where you have to work to understand the language. Once I got into the rhythm I looked forward to reading it a lot.
What was your favourite part?
I loved the Reverend's whole journey. It reminded me in a way of The Good Place but obviously not as funny. Nothing is.
What one thing will you take away from reading this book?
History is not objective, grief is hard, accepting death is, in some ways, harder.
Who (if anyone) would you pass this on to?
Probably my old university tutor, though she's no doubt read it. I want to talk about it with her.
Will you be reading Saunders' other books now?
Probably.
Sass Webber, Senior Project Manager
What were your initial thoughts?
My initial thoughts were, 'Oh my, am I reading this right?' The first page really pulls you in, then the plot stops and jumps abruptly to something else. A few pages in and I understood why it is referred to as an experimental novel, a few more and I was perplexed. By the end of the first chapter I thought I’d figured it out but I don’t mind admitting, I did jump onto Wiki to check that I was reading it correctly. I was (insert smug tone).
And final thoughts?
It actually wasn’t as hard going as I’d thought it would be. Once I’d got into the swing of the prose and cacophony of characters (all 166 of them) it really did become addictive and I found myself reaching for the book every time I had even 30 seconds to spare. The ending was a little consciously worthy for my liking, and a bit of a leap from the experimental, innovative nature of the rest of the book but not to the extent that the book was ruined for me.
Was it an enjoyable read?
Yes! I loved it way more than I‘d expected, it hooked me to the point that I was walking through Tube stations reading as I went, much to the annoyance of my fellow commuters.
What was your favourite part?
I loved how historic quotes and references were woven through the text. The often conflicting citations and commentary on factual events felt uncannily similar to scrolling through an 1860s Twitter thread, a technique that brought otherwise banal facts vividly to life. Also the avoidance language used to describe the perilous situation and surroundings most of the characters found themselves in, which was a smart shortcut to revealing their inner turmoil.
And least favourite part?
I loved the character Elise Traynor but despite having an overactive imagination, my brain just couldn’t pull together the imagery used to describe her. I didn’t like having a character that I just couldn’t picture in my head, especially when she was described in such vivid, harrowing detail. Also. What did the Reverend do? Anyone??
What one thing will you take away from reading this book?
That not all experimental novels are impossible to enjoy.
Who (if anyone) would you pass this on to?
All my friends are total bookworms and I’ve been raving about this book non-stop so there’s already a long waiting list. First on that list is my friend Annie, mostly because she likes any book I like and vice versa. Also she is smarter than me so I’m hoping she can tell me what the Reverend did. What did he do, Annie?
Will you be reading Saunders' other books now?
I don’t love short stories so probably not. Strong words I know, but I get so deeply immersed and then they just finish way before I’m ready, it’s like being literarily dumped over and over in 250 pages. That said, if George writes another novel, experimental or otherwise, I will definitely indulge.
Nina Joyce, PR Director Europe
What were your initial thoughts?
The first few pages serve you quite a curveball: the layout and flow of narrative is far from your standard novel. Part play script, part poem, part jigsaw citation from various writers capturing historical events, Lincoln in the Bardo tests its reader's attention and imaginative capacity from the off. Once you've settled into the flow of the book, you see Saunders is an exceptional storyteller, drawing a cast of the undead together to tell an array of very human stories, each one developing at a confident and intriguing pace.
Throughout the book, you see Lincoln's imagined turmoil around his son's death in some amazing passages of inner monologue, which traverses both grief and resolution in a way that'll touch a nerve with anyone who has dealt with the death of a loved one.
And final thoughts?
This book is absolutely amazing. Don't let the off-kilter layout put you off and do persevere if you initially struggle to sink your teeth into the various stories Saunders layers together – the thread binding them becomes stronger with each page. It's also laugh out loud funny; a grown-up ghost story featuring, among other things, a trouserless man bounding around with a wobbling dick the size of a baseball bat, and a troupe of ghouls pelting the graveyard's occupants with different styles of hats depending on their mood. It's absurd, warm and heartbreaking all at the same time, making it a perfect eulogy for human life told by the stark orator that is death.
What was your favourite part?
There's an extended party scene I particularly liked that chronicles the night of Willie Lincoln's death, told from the patchwork perspective of the party's attendees, White House staff and other witnesses who catalogued the detail of the Lincolns's soiree while their son was gravely ill upstairs. The various accounts of the President and the First Lady come together in a chattering chorus of opinion, sometimes even contradicting each other, pointing to the difficulty of telling a reliable story when the protagonists are so ripe for public dissection. While you can make some canny comparisons to the public's relationship to politicians today, it makes for a much more intimate experience when Saunders lets those voices die down and you're left alone with the unadulterated thoughts of Lincoln himself.
Also, the clever breadcrumbs Saunders leaves throughout the book – what are those 'sick-boxes' that keep getting mentioned? – have an immensely satisfying payoff by the end.
And least favourite part?
The Civil War looms large and gathers some decisive pace towards the end, but I would've liked to have seen the implications of that war – the fallen soldiers on all sides, the slaves buried in mass graves beyond the confines of the respectable cemetery – worked in sooner than they are.
That said, it's only through the process of properly grieving for his son that Lincoln can begin to imagine how he might move towards victory in the hitherto deadlocked conflict, paving the way for some of the most significant cultural shifts in American history.
Who (if anyone) would you pass this on to?
Anyone! Everyone! Come to my house right now because I've photocopied the entire book and will be handing it out!
You do have to suspend your disbelief for a lot of this book – the bulk of the story is set in the bustling minutiae of a village that is really a dreary 19th century graveyard – but the charming array of characters makes it worth it.
Will you be reading Saunders' other books now?
Yes. Would be a bit weird if I bashed out all that and didn't, right?
Katy Thompsett, Sub Editor
What were your initial thoughts?
I have not got the faintest idea what's going on here. Who are all these characters? Why is it set out like a play? I couldn't figure out how Saunders was going to weave all these seemingly unrelated stories into one coherent narrative, and spent the first few chapters second-guessing what I was reading. Disconcerting, I think, was my initial impression.
And final thoughts?
I've not experienced anything as tragic as the death of a young child so I can't speak firsthand but this feels like such an accurate depiction of grief. There's a moment where Lincoln lets himself into the crypt, opens his son's casket and takes his corpse into his arms. What could have been shocking becomes an incredibly moving, human action. That may be the best way to describe this book, in fact: human. There's a lot to do with spirituality, yes – faith, the afterlife, the idea that we all have a soul – but more than anything, I think it's about empathy; how we understand and can be kind to one another.
Was it an enjoyable read?
Oh my goodness, yes. Hilarious at times (wait 'til you get to Willie's description of Hans Vollman's, er, 'member'); devastating at others. And so much easier to read than I had anticipated – the play-like format worked beautifully. I can imagine it being adapted for the stage, actually.
What was your favourite part?
Probably when the 'ghosts' inhabit Lincoln's body and begin to think his thoughts and feel his feelings. And each others' thoughts and feelings, in turn. It sort of shatters the horrible solipsism of human existence. The last chapter – I won't spoil it – is particularly poignant.
And least favourite part?
Nitpicking, really, but whenever it switched to the historical sources I wanted to get back to the 'ghosts'. But only because they're so vivid and compelling, I couldn't get enough.
What one thing will you take away from reading this book?
That there should be more empathy in the world. Maybe then we wouldn't be in this mess.
Who (if anyone) would you pass this on to?
My friend Polis, although he works in a bookshop and doesn't so much read as inhale books, so I suspect he may have whizzed through this one already.
Will you be reading Saunders' other books now?
On this evidence, absolutely.
Sian O'Flaherty, Senior Branded Content Manager
What were your initial thoughts?
I have to say my initial thoughts weren’t *great*. Firstly, I have next to no knowledge of American history; secondly, the genre didn’t really seem like my cup of tea (half historical, half set in the afterlife, over 100 characters and heavily based around grief… I mean?!). Thirdly, after a quick flick through, the formatting looked strange, obscure and well, a bit pretentious. And finally, I didn’t know what a 'bardo' was. Please say I’m not the only one...
And final thoughts?
I take it all back. What an experience! This was unlike anything I've ever read and I have to say I got so much from this book. It was strange and sprawling and enchanting, and while not always the easiest read, it was so worth persevering with for its beautiful depictions of love and loss and its unique narrative.
Was it an enjoyable read?
I would say the word ‘strange’ is apt here. I did enjoy it but I found the odd form of this book really hard to get the hang of until at least a third of the way in. Saunders pieces together historical facts, eyewitness accounts, gossip and hearsay to tell the tale of the loss of Lincoln’s son. This is then interwoven with the strange ghosts (?!) in the bardo – and all set against the backdrop of the American Civil War. There’s a lot going on and I found myself reading and rereading pages constantly, trying to figure out who was saying what and whether it was real, imaginary or rumours. Having said all that, this book really affected me; it made me think so much about life, love and loss. It's hugely moving and will stay with you long after you finish it.
What was your favourite part?
One of my favourite things was the way Saunders managed to depict the way different people perceive events. This felt so relevant and so incredibly contemporary: so often we totally exaggerate or misinterpret the way things really happened and Saunders managed to tell his unique tale via this common thing we all do. While intense and quite distressing, Saunders' descriptions of loss felt so real and visceral – you can almost feel Lincoln’s pain when he loses his son Willie, it’s overwhelming in a way I’ve never felt through literature before.
And least favourite part?
What did the Reverend do?! The Reverend Thomas is a core character who has supposedly done something terrible but we never find out what. This was one of the biggest unanswered questions – unless it was answered, in which case it went above me.
What one thing will you take away from reading this book?
A couple of things. 1) Not to judge a book by its cover. I NEVER would have chosen a novel of this genre but I really did feel moved by it and thoroughly enjoyed it. It was so original and unique, I would never have read anything like it if it hadn’t been for book club.
2) It raised a lot of interesting questions about what happens after you die; even for non-believers of the afterlife, I feel this would be powerful and affecting.
Who (if anyone) would you pass this on to?
I’m going to pass this on to my lovely friend Grace, she loves a good historical novel so this will be right up her street.
Will you be reading Saunders' other books now?
I’d definitely give them a try… are they all as unusual as this though?!
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