A Plummeting Spirit Enters the Fray (Image Credits: Upload.wikimedia.org)
George Saunders delivers a compact yet chaotic exploration of mortality in his new novel Vigil, revisiting the ethereal boundary between life and death first charted in his Booker Prize-winning Lincoln in the Bardo.[1][2]
A Plummeting Spirit Enters the Fray
Jill “Doll” Blaine hurtles toward a sprawling mansion, her form reconstituting mid-fall complete with signature black pumps. This spirit guide, murdered young and now tasked with easing souls into the afterlife for the 343rd time, confronts her toughest assignment yet.[1] K.J. Boone, an 87-year-old oil magnate ravaged by cancer, lies unyielding on his deathbed. He views his life as an unapologetic triumph, convinced the world benefited from his ruthless ambition. Jill enters his mind expecting vulnerability, but finds only smug certainty.
Boone’s defiance sets the stage for a frenzied final evening. Saunders packs 192 pages with supernatural intrusions that challenge the tycoon’s self-image. The narrative unfolds in real time, heightening the urgency as judgment looms.[3]
Echoes of the Bardo in a Modern Morality Tale
Readers familiar with Lincoln in the Bardo will recognize the Bardo’s suspended realm, that Tibetan Buddhist limbo where souls grapple with earthly ties. Saunders condenses the concept here into one bedside vigil, swapping a chorus of ghosts for a lone guide amid escalating visitations.[2] Critics hail the shift as leaner yet revelatory, blending slapstick with profound inquiry.[1]
The novel mirrors Dickens’ A Christmas Carol in spirit, though Saunders infuses it with contemporary bite. Birds swarm Boone’s room; a black calf munches on the loveseat; spectral figures from his past materialize demanding accountability. These elements propel a story that critiques without preaching, true to the author’s explosive imagination.
Greed’s Reckoning Unfolds in Waves
Boone’s empire built on fossil fuels draws otherworldly accusers. A villager from a drought-stricken land appears; longtime cronies plot his posthumous fate. Even Boone’s daughter injects raw familial tension amid the mayhem.[4] Saunders weaves these encounters into a tapestry exposing corporate greenwashing and environmental tolls.
The chaos escalates as Jill navigates her role: comfort over condemnation. Boone resists, insisting his bold choices advanced progress. Yet cracks emerge, forcing reflections on free will and inevitability. One poignant line captures the tension: “Who else could you have been but exactly who you are?”
- Supernatural visitors demand a lifetime’s audit.
- Environmental victims haunt the tycoon’s final hours.
- Family ties unravel amid cosmic intrusions.
- Spirit guides balance mercy with truth.
- Afterlife bureaucracy adds absurd humor.
Critical Voices Weigh In
Early reviews praise Vigil‘s wit and urgency. The Atlantic notes its moral thrust amid fiction’s ethical retreat, though some find Boone’s portrayal caricatured.[2] The New York Times calls it earnest yet slim, urging Saunders to reclaim his subversive edge.[5] Starred notices from Kirkus and Publishers Weekly celebrate its consciousness expansion.
Goodreads users echo the divide: many laud the heart-tugging finale, while others decry preachiness. Still, the consensus affirms Saunders’ mastery of the grotesque and compassionate.
Key Takeaways from ‘Vigil’:
- Corporate ambition faces afterlife scrutiny in a single evening.
- The Bardo evolves into a personal, chaotic reckoning.
- Saunders blends humor, horror, and hope on timely themes.
George Saunders’ Vigil reaffirms his status as fiction’s afterlife bard, distilling vast questions into a brisk, bumpy ride. In an era of climate reckoning, its message lingers: absolution demands unflinching gaze. What ghosts might crowd your own final hours? Tell us in the comments.
