It is February 1862 and President Abraham Lincoln is grieving the unexpected death of his young son Willie. Now in a Georgetown cemetery, Willie finds himself in a strange purgatory between life and death, where ghosts argue, antagonize, and attempt to convince Willie to move on to the next life even as they themselves cling to the last vestiges of life. Moving back and forth between the recollections of the living and the hopes of the dead, this powerful, terrifying, and moving novel repeatedly asks a deeply profound question through a kaleidoscope of voices: what does it mean to live and what, precisely, ties us to this life?

Unexpectedly hilarious and horrible in turns, this is one of the strangest and most beautiful novels I’ve ever read. Deploying an almost theatrical approach and a dizzying cast of characters, this novel is a masterpiece of both form and function--even when it was confusing at first. It's also almost impossible to describe–you sort of have to just experience it and buckle in for the ride. I plan to re-read this on audio later this summer–I’ve heard amazing things about the full cast audiobook–but I think it actually would have been too confusing to listen to without also reading the text. A book to be savored, this is a marvelously weird novel and easily one of the most memorable books of the year.