VIGIL

Saunders’ second novel represents a magnificent expansion of consciousness.

Unfolding over the course of a single evening, as oil baron K.J. Boone lies on his deathbed, the narrative develops almost entirely in the interior, while encompassing a dizzying exteriority as well. At its center are two characters, one deceased and the other soon to be. The latter, of course, is Boone, a man with much to answer for, although he doesn’t believe that. The other is Jill “Doll” Blaine, the narrator, who died young and has returned to earth from the spirit realm—as she has 343 times since her own demise—to help him make the crossing. If such concerns appear to recall those of the author’s first novel, Lincoln in the Bardo (2017), that both is and isn’t the case. Yes, as the book progresses, it ranges widely, with a variety of ghosts and spirits emerging to comment on or participate in Boone’s final reckoning. At the same time, it’s a sparer work than its predecessor. This has to do with Jill, who moves from memories of her life to engagement with Boone. Always, she reveals empathy and insight, even as his final hours become a dark night of the soul. “No: this, this now, was me,” she tells us: “vast, unlimited in the range and delicacy of my voice, unrestrained in love, rapid in apprehension, skillful in motion, capable, equally, of traversing, within a few seconds’ time, a mile or ten thousand miles.” What she (or, through her, Saunders) is suggesting is the need for generosity, despite, or perhaps because of, Boone’s corrupted soul, which has been riven by a lifetime wallowing in many of the deadly sins, particularly pride and greed. Such openness has long been a hallmark of Saunders’ fiction, and it’s on full display in this elegant and subtle book. “At such moments,” Jill reflects, “I especially cherished my task. I could comfort.”

Saunders has crafted a novel that feels deeply resonant, especially in these fractious times.