LINCOLN in the BARDO

George Saunders’ avant-garde novel gives me plenty of fodder to chew on...so to speak. Since Abe Lincoln is in it, one would say the genre is historical fiction. But I saw a new genre the other day that some people are putting this novel in...magical realism. Where did that come from? And I thought weird fiction was a far out genre. Silly me. This novel is experimental and also ergodic at the same time (in this case, many pages with limited writing). It has endless narrators with their names in lowercase under every line they say, such as, “As the man continued to gently rock his child.” (under that line, the reverend everly thomas), “While his child, simultaneously, stood quietly leaning against him.” (under that line, hans vollman) and “Then the gentleman began to speak.” (under that line, roger bevins iii). Do you see what I’m saying? This same model of identifying the narrator is also used when a line is borrowed from a book or article; such as, “The doctor assured Lincoln that Willie would recover.” (under that line, In ‘The President’s Hippocrates,” by Deborah Chase, M.D., account of Joshua Freewell). Did you notice that when a book is mentioned, it has the proper capitalization? Finally, there is heavy use of “op. cit.”, which means, “in the work already cited.” Of course that adverb is likewise under a line of text. Anyway, I thought I would mention these technical things before you plunge headlong into Saunders’ novel. By the way, I’m not complaining...I liked the inventiveness of the author.

Although the story is strange, it is quite simple. Basically, eleven year old Willie Lincoln is dying from a horrible cold and fever upstairs while Abe and Mary Todd are entertaining downstairs at a State Dinner in the White House. “They dined on tender pheasant, fat partridge, venison steaks, and Virginia hams; they battened upon canvasback ducks and fresh turkeys, and thousands of tidewater oysters shucked an hour since and iced, slurped raw, scalloped in butter and crackermeal, or stewed in milk.” “Yet there was no joy in the evening for the mechanically smiling hostess and her husband. They kept climbing the stairs to see how Willie was, and he was not doing well at all.” The next day...Willie dies. Mary Todd is too distraught to go to the burial. Judge Carroll loans Lincoln a space in his family’s crypt at a Georgetown cemetery, so Abe can temporarily bury his son (Willie will be buried at a later date in Illinois). Unknown to anybody is that the cemetery is populated by many ghosts that are in a bardo state. Bardo is a Tibetan term for existing between death and rebirth. Most of the cemetery’s population didn’t even know they were dead. Some people have gone to the final judgement; one scurried back after he saw what his punishment was going to be (was it the reverend everly thomas?). How did he do that? They socialize during the night and go to their sick-beds (they don’t say coffin, because they believe they are sick, not dead) at dawn. When Lincoln arrives to bury Willie in the borrowed white crypt, the whole cemetery citizenry is abuzz. What’s in store for Willie after the Lincoln burial party leave? And how do the ghosts handle Lincoln coming back in the evening to hold and coddle his dead son for the last time? Is Willie now a ghost?
  
The story behind the novel is interesting. According to Wikipedia, “The novel was inspired by a story Saunder’s wife’s cousin told him about how Lincoln visited his son Willie’s crypt at Oak Hill Cemetery in Georgetown on several occasions to hold the body, a story that seems to be verified by contemporary newspaper accounts.” And according to The Guardian (a British newspaper), George Saunders said the following in 2017, “Without giving anything away, let me say this: I made a bunch of ghosts. They were sort of cynical; they were stuck in this realm, called the bardo (from the Tibetan notion of a sort of transitional purgatory between rebirths), stuck because they’d been unhappy or unsatisfied in life. The greatest part of their penance is that they feel utterly inessential-incapable of influencing the living.” The only ghost that understands their plight is Reverend Everly Thomas (the Judgement Day escapee from paragraph two). His friends, Mr. Bevins and Mr. Vollman don’t have a clue on what’s going on. The reverend says, “Many times I have been tempted to blurt out the truth to Mr. Bevins and Mr. Vollman: A terrible judgement awaits you, I long to say. Staying here, you merely delay. You are dead, and shall never regain that previous place. At daybreak, when you must return to your bodies, have you not noticed their disgusting states? Do you really believe those hideous wrecks capable of bearing you anywhere again? And what is more (I would say, if permitted): you shall not be allowed to linger here forever. None of us shall. We are in rebellion against the will of our Lord, and in time must be broken, and go.” Grab your own copy and enjoy this very strange novel.

RATING: 5 out of 5 stars

Comment: The Lincolns had very little luck with the health of their children. Three of their four sons didn’t make it to adulthood. Edward Baker Lincoln died at the age of four in 1850 from tuberculosis; as you know, Willie Lincoln died at the age of eleven in 1862 from fever; Thomas Tad Lincoln almost got to adulthood but succumbed to heart failure at the age of eighteen in 1871.

Robert Todd Lincoln (8/1/1843 to 7/26/1926) lived to the ripe age of 82. Robert served briefly for Gen. Grant in the closing days of the Civil War. Robert’s grandson, Robert “Bud” Todd Lincoln Beckwith (died in 1985) was the last person known to have direct Lincoln lineage.