108. George Saunders, Lincoln in the Bardo
- Rainey Knudson
- 8 hours ago
- 2 min read
Dear readers, this week I’m featuring books I love by living American authors. Later in the year I’ll probably also do a series of books by the departed. This is a fitting segue to our first book, George Saunders’ Lincoln in the Bardo. The book is wonderful, as is the audiobook, which features Nick Offerman, David Sedaris, and Saunders himself. OK, here we go. Thank you. -Rainey

In 1862, during some of the darkest days of the Civil War, Abraham and Mary Lincoln lost their son Willie, who died of a fever at age 11. Lincoln reportedly returned to the crypt alone at night to hold the boy's body, an event which inspired George Saunders’ Lincoln in the Bardo. The story takes place in the cemetery, where various ghosts fight to remain in the “bardo,” the in-between space between life and what comes after.
The form of the novel is like a play, with each line attributed to the voices of the dead, who interrupt and finish each other's thoughts. Intercut with the ghosts are fragments of historical biographies, letters, and newspaper accounts, both real and invented. Saunders said of the historical records, “Some things that seem invented are true. Some things that seem true are invented.”
One ghost, Roger Bevins, describes the beauty of being alive—realized too late, just after his suicide attempt:
I realized how unspeakably beautiful all of this was, how precisely engineered for our pleasure... swarms of insects dancing in slant-rays of August sun; a trio of black horses standing hock-deep and head-to-head in a field of snow...once revived, I intend to devoutly wander the earth, imbibing, smelling, sampling, loving whomever I please...
Lincoln’s own thoughts as he holds his son’s body:
He was never fixed, nor stable, but always just a passing, temporary energy-burst... 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. Two passing temporarinesses developed feelings for one another. Two puffs of smoke became mutually fond.
You were a joy... Please know that. Know that you were a joy. To us. Every minute, every season, you were a — you did a good job. A good job of being a pleasure to know.
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This post is part of The American 250, a series featuring 250 objects made by Americans, located in America, in honor of the country's 250th anniversary. 250 words on 250 works, from January 1 to December 31, 2026.
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