It is rare that I read something truly new, but George Saunders' cacophony of voices was certainly felt like something new. While it owes something to the form of many plays (the third act of Our Town came to mind) and to the cut-up technique of the Dadaists, neither really come close to what Saunders has done here.

Early on in the book, Saunders presents dozens of snippets ostensibly selected from historical texts describing a party thrown by Abraham and Mary Lincoln. Each of the snippets describes the moon on that night, and very few of them agree on this apparently simple fact. The message is clear: don't trust any of the narrators of this book. It's not that their lying, but memory is a tricky thing.

In fact, the entire book can be seen as an experiment—and a very successful one—in multiple unreliable narration. Such an experiment could easily have turned into a mess, but Saunders manages to turn this into a compelling, and very human story.

The heart of the story is the death of Abraham Lincoln's son, Willie and the time he spends between this world and the next. The residents of the cemetery try to encourage Willie to pass into the next world when Abraham Lincoln visits to have one last look at his son.

The story is handled with humor and grace. Like very little I've read the story explores the love between a father and son. It is an extraordinary piece of work.