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殡葬人手记：一个阴森行业的生活研究
在一个为某种力量所主宰的世界，并非所有结局都美满，每句话都是吉祥的祝福。但每一次死亡总有一些补救；每一次丧失，总有一个写着我们姓名的复活节；每一次悲伤，总有爱作为安慰。——托马斯·林奇像所有诗人一样，托马斯·林奇以死亡为主题，但他的独特之处在于，他是一个密歇根小镇的殡仪馆从业者，受雇埋葬和焚烧死者。工作之中，他始终敏锐地聆听着透过死亡传达的爱和悲伤的话语。在这《殡葬人手记：一个阴森行业的生活研究》里，有在墓畔挥杆的高尔夫球手，有美食家兼疑病症患者，有情人，有自杀，有残酷的、不幸的死亡，也有更多并非残酷和不幸的、令人动容的故事。有的葬礼令人欢欣，有的婚礼却催人泪下。《殡葬人手记：一个阴森行业的生活研究》中充满了见证者和当事者的双重声音。林奇站在生死之间，带着愤怒，带着惊讶，带着畏惧，带着平静，试图一瞥我们所有人终会懂得的死亡对于生命的意义，传达了死者对生者的告诫。
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First published March 27, 1997
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 492 reviews
February 24, 2012
I thought this book was kind of a snooze. And then I got towards the end - he starts talking about abortion in a really stupid way, including such archaic gems as "Or is it one of those Women's Issues men are supposed to keep quiet about, the way they were told to about abortion, as if it were the gender, not the species that reproduces." Uhhh... what? Go back to your cave, bro. And write something more interesting the next time you come out. Douche.
April 27, 2014
As far as Lynch's way with the written word, and even the subject matter, this book deserves close to five stars.
However, as the streak of Conservative Irish Sentimental Paternalism and Misogyny became more of a wide river throughout the book, it became harder and harder for me to stomach. Yes, let's reflect on how things were better before there were things like indoor plumbing and reliable birth control for women. Lets put things from the "modern world" in quotation marks.
By the time it got to a passage that basically read --
He moped around the corners of her life for a week or two that would be called "stalking" now --
I both slightly admired the wordplay but also grunted in disgust, yeah, you chauvinist dick, it would probably be called "stalking" now because it actually was stalking, and the book went flying gently across the living room floor.
However, as the streak of Conservative Irish Sentimental Paternalism and Misogyny became more of a wide river throughout the book, it became harder and harder for me to stomach. Yes, let's reflect on how things were better before there were things like indoor plumbing and reliable birth control for women. Lets put things from the "modern world" in quotation marks.
By the time it got to a passage that basically read --
He moped around the corners of her life for a week or two that would be called "stalking" now --
I both slightly admired the wordplay but also grunted in disgust, yeah, you chauvinist dick, it would probably be called "stalking" now because it actually was stalking, and the book went flying gently across the living room floor.
May 1, 2017
'The Undertaking: Life Studies from the Dismal Trade' is a collection of essays... a memoir of sorts by Thomas Lynch. I was aware before beginning this book that Thomas Lynch.. along with his brother and father before him... is a funeral director, an undertaker, if you will. I also became aware that Mr. Lynch is also a published poet; and these beautiful essays WERE written in that unmistakeable lyrical voice of a poet.
There is no collective theme in this book of essays.... the writings are simply Mr. Lynch's musings on everything from his 'dismal trade' to his family; to life and of course, death. He writes honestly about how his trade keeps him in a constant state of fear regarding the health and well-being of his own children. After all, he KNOWS what COULD and DOES happen to children... from illness to horrible accidents... and because these children are his responsibility and they are his life's work, he cares for these children and their lives.. and deaths are never far from his mind.
I think though, that the essay that resonated with me, was one in which he discusses just how his trade came to be. Mr. Lynch summed it up perfectly in a passage I have continued to think about... "Just about the time we were bringing the making of water INTO the house, we were pushing the birthing and marriage; the sickness and dying OUT." He, of course, was referring to just how much the introduction of indoor plumbing seemed to change everything... even how the members of families lived their lives, interacted with each other and eventually died. He went on to say.... "This is also why the funerals held in my funeral parlor lack an essential manifest-- the connection of the baby born to the marriage made to the deaths we grieve in the life of the family... the rituals by which we mark the things that can only happen to us once, birth and death... carry the same emotional mail--- a message of loss and gain, love and grief, things changed utterly." Mr. Lynch's point that something we all take for granted and that we have no memory of ever being without... indoor plumbing.... could have changed the way he conducts his business and practices his trade seems astonishing to me and yet, he makes an interesting and valid point. With the introduction of indoor plumbing into households, it DID become true that the bed which saw a marriage begin and which witnessed the birth of children and then later became the same bed which ushered a person from this life to another DID change. This whole life cycle of a person.. of a family.. rarely all plays out in the family home anymore. Hospitals and funeral parlors have taken the place of the family bed. People's lives don't often play out in the same space and the circle of life doesn't usually begin and end in the same place. And to think that much of this came about because of indoor plumbing is interesting to think about... not necessarily good or bad.. just simply a change.
Mr. Lynch's very unique use of language, along with his ever-present wit, made these essays a pleasure to read and provided me with much food for thought.
There is no collective theme in this book of essays.... the writings are simply Mr. Lynch's musings on everything from his 'dismal trade' to his family; to life and of course, death. He writes honestly about how his trade keeps him in a constant state of fear regarding the health and well-being of his own children. After all, he KNOWS what COULD and DOES happen to children... from illness to horrible accidents... and because these children are his responsibility and they are his life's work, he cares for these children and their lives.. and deaths are never far from his mind.
I think though, that the essay that resonated with me, was one in which he discusses just how his trade came to be. Mr. Lynch summed it up perfectly in a passage I have continued to think about... "Just about the time we were bringing the making of water INTO the house, we were pushing the birthing and marriage; the sickness and dying OUT." He, of course, was referring to just how much the introduction of indoor plumbing seemed to change everything... even how the members of families lived their lives, interacted with each other and eventually died. He went on to say.... "This is also why the funerals held in my funeral parlor lack an essential manifest-- the connection of the baby born to the marriage made to the deaths we grieve in the life of the family... the rituals by which we mark the things that can only happen to us once, birth and death... carry the same emotional mail--- a message of loss and gain, love and grief, things changed utterly." Mr. Lynch's point that something we all take for granted and that we have no memory of ever being without... indoor plumbing.... could have changed the way he conducts his business and practices his trade seems astonishing to me and yet, he makes an interesting and valid point. With the introduction of indoor plumbing into households, it DID become true that the bed which saw a marriage begin and which witnessed the birth of children and then later became the same bed which ushered a person from this life to another DID change. This whole life cycle of a person.. of a family.. rarely all plays out in the family home anymore. Hospitals and funeral parlors have taken the place of the family bed. People's lives don't often play out in the same space and the circle of life doesn't usually begin and end in the same place. And to think that much of this came about because of indoor plumbing is interesting to think about... not necessarily good or bad.. just simply a change.
Mr. Lynch's very unique use of language, along with his ever-present wit, made these essays a pleasure to read and provided me with much food for thought.
August 13, 2009
I had hoped for much more from this book. It received good notices and won the American Book Award. But there were a few aspects of the book and the writing that put me off, and I quit at the halfway point.
First, I would very much like publishers to stop putting out essay collections that appear to be continuous narratives. Such a form can be done well (Atul Gawande's BETTER achieved a continuity with a consistent theme and editing that reinforced it, despite the fact that it was clearly a collection), but more often it seems a cheat to readers who are hoping to pick up a book on a single subject. Instead they get a loose collection of short pieces that may or may not relate to the subject in which they were interested. That is the case here.
Second, I'm afraid I found Thomas Lynch's style overly adorned and florid. This is probably in part because, in addition to being an undertaker, he is also a poet. His poetic tendency leads him, ironically, to say more when it would do to say less. I enjoyed some parts of some of his stories, but I knew I would have enjoyed them more if many of his descriptions, asides, and opinions had been trimmed away. This is a matter of taste, I suppose, but I was less able to enjoy the stories, because I was rarely allowed to forget that it was Thomas Lynch telling them. He seemed very concerned that his voice be prominent, and I guess I just don't like that voice.
(I don't mean to suggest that contemporary nonfiction be devoid of personality and idiosyncrasy, but writers who are enamored of their own voices can often in the reader's way, of being too intrusive a mediator of the message.)
Third, there are too many single-sentence paragraphs.
Fourth: puns.
And, finally, fifth, I honestly never got what I came for. The conceit of the book, at least in part, is that Lynch will conduct us through a world that he is well-prepared to share with us: that of the funeral business. But far too often he drifts far afield, and the straightforward details I would expect from such a book are imparted only partially, and often in passing. Clearly he has a viewpoint that he would like to share, and that viewpoint sometimes stands in opposition to earlier books published about his trade. But he does not marshal the facts as often as necessary, and he sometimes falls back on generalizations and wry opinion when the truly convincing evidence one needs is old-fashioned example.
First, I would very much like publishers to stop putting out essay collections that appear to be continuous narratives. Such a form can be done well (Atul Gawande's BETTER achieved a continuity with a consistent theme and editing that reinforced it, despite the fact that it was clearly a collection), but more often it seems a cheat to readers who are hoping to pick up a book on a single subject. Instead they get a loose collection of short pieces that may or may not relate to the subject in which they were interested. That is the case here.
Second, I'm afraid I found Thomas Lynch's style overly adorned and florid. This is probably in part because, in addition to being an undertaker, he is also a poet. His poetic tendency leads him, ironically, to say more when it would do to say less. I enjoyed some parts of some of his stories, but I knew I would have enjoyed them more if many of his descriptions, asides, and opinions had been trimmed away. This is a matter of taste, I suppose, but I was less able to enjoy the stories, because I was rarely allowed to forget that it was Thomas Lynch telling them. He seemed very concerned that his voice be prominent, and I guess I just don't like that voice.
(I don't mean to suggest that contemporary nonfiction be devoid of personality and idiosyncrasy, but writers who are enamored of their own voices can often in the reader's way, of being too intrusive a mediator of the message.)
Third, there are too many single-sentence paragraphs.
Fourth: puns.
And, finally, fifth, I honestly never got what I came for. The conceit of the book, at least in part, is that Lynch will conduct us through a world that he is well-prepared to share with us: that of the funeral business. But far too often he drifts far afield, and the straightforward details I would expect from such a book are imparted only partially, and often in passing. Clearly he has a viewpoint that he would like to share, and that viewpoint sometimes stands in opposition to earlier books published about his trade. But he does not marshal the facts as often as necessary, and he sometimes falls back on generalizations and wry opinion when the truly convincing evidence one needs is old-fashioned example.
Read
November 11, 2007A former therapist of mine recommended this book when my dad died. Lynch can really write. But reading it didn't make me feel any better. Leaving that therapist did though.
March 19, 2014
I got as far as the second to last chapter, convinced that the book might eventually be about funeral homes. Then the author made a slippery slope argument about how reproductive choice leads to the children of baby boomers euthanizing their parents for convenience. Hahaha nooope.
August 10, 2025
This book is highly acclaimed, but it read quite uneven to me. I’m not sure if that’s because it really wasn’t what I was expecting, or because it was overrated. Or perhaps it was both. Or neither! Either way, I thought going into it. This would be more about the stories of an undertaker in a small town, talking about the death of townspeople and stories behind those deaths and their funerals. And there is some of that, but there are also things that I really wasn’t expecting.
One chapter seemed a bit bizarre to me. Lynch starts talking about suicide and abortion, trying to compare them in certain ways by emphasizing choice. The choice of a woman to abort an unwanted or perhaps a medically dangerous pregnancy. And also the choice of an adult to end his or her life. Sort of an interesting argument, although I’m not sure how relevant it was given the subject matter of this book. To me that sort of like comparing apples and oranges. While there could be medical reasons or economic reasons in relation to an abortion, and there also could be medical reasons or economic reasons in relation to someone deciding to commit suicide, I’m not sure that equating the two with each other is a valid line of argument. Also, well, not explicitly coming out and saying it, it seemed pretty obvious to me that Lynch was anti-abortion. And honestly, that’s not really a big surprise given his Catholic upbringing.
Included in this chapter was a really off tangent topic about Dr. Jack Kevorkian and assisted suicide. It may be difficult to remember all those years ago now, but back when Lynch was writing this, Kevorkian was in the news quite a bit for helping people to voluntarily end their lives. Generally, these were people who were affected with terminal illnesses, and in a lot of pain - beyond the ability of medicine to be able to relieve or even temper their suffering. Again, like with his views on abortion, Lynch is fairly disapproving of Dr. Kevorkian and does not write about him in oositive tones. Which in and if itself is all right. However, it did seem a bit one-sided. I guess that depends on which side of the aisle you come down on as far as whether you approve of what Kevorkian was doing or not.
Another odd chapter was one where he talks about one of his friends in Ireland, who happens to also be a poet. I really was not able to understand what the point of that chapter was other than the fact that his friend was very morbid and was somewhat focused on death, even from when he was a child. This chapter just sort of rambled to me and didn’t really have any cohesion to it. I also really don’t see how it fits into the book as a whole. Who cares what one of his friends thought about death?
A less bizarre chapter involved the author flying across the country to California, and passing over a large section of land that was green, but surrounded by brown desert. He started imagining how you could have a cemetery contained within a golf course, and how that would look. Odd thought I think, but again I’m not really sure what that really had to do with death. Perhaps chalk that up to the category of “What people think about when they stare out the window of an airplane on a long flight“. It seemed like more existential thought than anything that was worthy of committing to print.
There are other chapters that contain very personal matters, such as discussion of his parents and how their deaths occurred. And also of how this is a family business for him. His father was also an undertaker, and one of his brothers is as well. I appreciated Lynch being so open about his parent’s deaths, although I started to get the feeling that writing about, it served dual purposes: as part of the book, and also as part catharsis. I especially like the part where he is talking about his mom‘s death from cancer and he makes the unfortunately all too accurate comment about how the physicians tried to use different words to sugarcoat what was really going on with his mom. She was dying from cancer, yet they tried to use big words and obscure the meaning of what was really happening: that her body was destroying itself.
Some of the writing is really excellent, and I can see why there are people who really enjoyed this book. As an example, I will choose a paragraph from page 51: “When we bury the old, we bury the known past, the past, we imagine sometimes better than it was, but the past all the same, a portion of which we inhabited. Memory is the overwhelming fame, the eventual discomfort.“
And the stories of some of the towns people who talked to him about their funerals before it happened, or some of the suicides that he had to go clean up, are sprinkled in throughout the text, and they are interesting to read. They are grim, of course, but you know that going into a book that is about the subject of death. However, I was hoping that he would go more in depth on those types of stories, instead of going off on existential thoughts. He touched on some of his relationships with others in the town, and how overall the town viewed him, especially when it came to financing a funeral or a cremation. He also talked about some folks trying to replace a bridge that had gone into disrepair near an old cemetery in town. I was hoping for more of this, And less of the author’s digressions about his ancestry in Ireland, and some of his relatives there, and a youthful trip there where he decided to take a poop out in the open in a field.
In the end, while some of the writing is quite eloquent, I do not understand why this book was so highly rated. Death cannot be an easy subject to write about, even for someone whose profession surrounds it, so perhaps the tangents were felt necessary by the author in order to make the book less grim and more acceptable to a wider audience. But I’m burying this one…
One chapter seemed a bit bizarre to me. Lynch starts talking about suicide and abortion, trying to compare them in certain ways by emphasizing choice. The choice of a woman to abort an unwanted or perhaps a medically dangerous pregnancy. And also the choice of an adult to end his or her life. Sort of an interesting argument, although I’m not sure how relevant it was given the subject matter of this book. To me that sort of like comparing apples and oranges. While there could be medical reasons or economic reasons in relation to an abortion, and there also could be medical reasons or economic reasons in relation to someone deciding to commit suicide, I’m not sure that equating the two with each other is a valid line of argument. Also, well, not explicitly coming out and saying it, it seemed pretty obvious to me that Lynch was anti-abortion. And honestly, that’s not really a big surprise given his Catholic upbringing.
Included in this chapter was a really off tangent topic about Dr. Jack Kevorkian and assisted suicide. It may be difficult to remember all those years ago now, but back when Lynch was writing this, Kevorkian was in the news quite a bit for helping people to voluntarily end their lives. Generally, these were people who were affected with terminal illnesses, and in a lot of pain - beyond the ability of medicine to be able to relieve or even temper their suffering. Again, like with his views on abortion, Lynch is fairly disapproving of Dr. Kevorkian and does not write about him in oositive tones. Which in and if itself is all right. However, it did seem a bit one-sided. I guess that depends on which side of the aisle you come down on as far as whether you approve of what Kevorkian was doing or not.
Another odd chapter was one where he talks about one of his friends in Ireland, who happens to also be a poet. I really was not able to understand what the point of that chapter was other than the fact that his friend was very morbid and was somewhat focused on death, even from when he was a child. This chapter just sort of rambled to me and didn’t really have any cohesion to it. I also really don’t see how it fits into the book as a whole. Who cares what one of his friends thought about death?
A less bizarre chapter involved the author flying across the country to California, and passing over a large section of land that was green, but surrounded by brown desert. He started imagining how you could have a cemetery contained within a golf course, and how that would look. Odd thought I think, but again I’m not really sure what that really had to do with death. Perhaps chalk that up to the category of “What people think about when they stare out the window of an airplane on a long flight“. It seemed like more existential thought than anything that was worthy of committing to print.
There are other chapters that contain very personal matters, such as discussion of his parents and how their deaths occurred. And also of how this is a family business for him. His father was also an undertaker, and one of his brothers is as well. I appreciated Lynch being so open about his parent’s deaths, although I started to get the feeling that writing about, it served dual purposes: as part of the book, and also as part catharsis. I especially like the part where he is talking about his mom‘s death from cancer and he makes the unfortunately all too accurate comment about how the physicians tried to use different words to sugarcoat what was really going on with his mom. She was dying from cancer, yet they tried to use big words and obscure the meaning of what was really happening: that her body was destroying itself.
Some of the writing is really excellent, and I can see why there are people who really enjoyed this book. As an example, I will choose a paragraph from page 51: “When we bury the old, we bury the known past, the past, we imagine sometimes better than it was, but the past all the same, a portion of which we inhabited. Memory is the overwhelming fame, the eventual discomfort.“
And the stories of some of the towns people who talked to him about their funerals before it happened, or some of the suicides that he had to go clean up, are sprinkled in throughout the text, and they are interesting to read. They are grim, of course, but you know that going into a book that is about the subject of death. However, I was hoping that he would go more in depth on those types of stories, instead of going off on existential thoughts. He touched on some of his relationships with others in the town, and how overall the town viewed him, especially when it came to financing a funeral or a cremation. He also talked about some folks trying to replace a bridge that had gone into disrepair near an old cemetery in town. I was hoping for more of this, And less of the author’s digressions about his ancestry in Ireland, and some of his relatives there, and a youthful trip there where he decided to take a poop out in the open in a field.
In the end, while some of the writing is quite eloquent, I do not understand why this book was so highly rated. Death cannot be an easy subject to write about, even for someone whose profession surrounds it, so perhaps the tangents were felt necessary by the author in order to make the book less grim and more acceptable to a wider audience. But I’m burying this one…
March 10, 2011
Thomas Lynch is an undertaker and a poet. Unsurprisingly, one occupation interests me more than the other. When he tells the tales of things he has seen -- the late night “removals” he's performed, the children he buried while his own kids grew up, the bedrooms he painted so the surviving spouse wouldn’t sleep beneath the shotgun’s evidence -- those stories are riveting.
Some of what he has to say comes perilously close to testifying: he has seen our futures and it’s later than we think. One essay considers the past in which babies were born in a room near the kitchen, young people were married in the parlor, and the dead were laid out and waked in their own homes. In those days, people were familiar with the physical realities of life. Once "shitting" moved from the out-house to the porcelain throne, and the dead were shifted from the place where they lived to the funeral “home,” society began to fall apart. Every now and then, Lynch likes to shit in his garden, just to reconnect with nature. I’m not making this up. He doesn’t go so far as to recommend everyone try it, but the implication is that the undertaker knows what’s good for us.
Unfortunately, Lynch crosses the line between testifying and preaching when he writes about suicide. He likens assisted suicide to abortion. Just because he has the “ability to piss on his neighbor’s day lilies,” that doesn’t mean he has the right. (Do you see a theme developing here?) He stops short of saying that suicide is a sin, but points out that as a Catholic boy, he was raised to believe in offering up one’s pain for the good of the suffering souls. One wonders how differently he will feel about the matter when his agony lingers for months on end as he’s eaten by the cancer that killed his mother. Of course, he expects to die quickly and relatively painlessly from the bad heart his father left him…
Still, Lynch is more than half a businessman. He relates the story of his brother, who owned a business created to clean up after suicides. The brother sold the business after Kevorkian began his crusade (Lynch works in Michigan, after all). It wasn’t that people were no longer going to kill themselves, they just weren’t going to make such a mess. The brother saw no profit in continuing to serve the grieving public. Lynch, however, foresees that if he can’t prevent assisted suicides, he may as well open “obitoria” where people can come to die in a building beside the funeral home. One-shop stopping.
This was a frustrating book, but full of food for thought. Most of the essays were structured like poems: a stanza on one topic, a stanza on another, quick interplay between the two as if in a chorus, several more stanzas, a final chorus. I found the lack of linear thought dizzying. Yet the poet has a gift for phrasing. I find myself wanting to adopt some of Lynch’s bon mots, like “Are you out of your kevorking mind?”
Some of what he has to say comes perilously close to testifying: he has seen our futures and it’s later than we think. One essay considers the past in which babies were born in a room near the kitchen, young people were married in the parlor, and the dead were laid out and waked in their own homes. In those days, people were familiar with the physical realities of life. Once "shitting" moved from the out-house to the porcelain throne, and the dead were shifted from the place where they lived to the funeral “home,” society began to fall apart. Every now and then, Lynch likes to shit in his garden, just to reconnect with nature. I’m not making this up. He doesn’t go so far as to recommend everyone try it, but the implication is that the undertaker knows what’s good for us.
Unfortunately, Lynch crosses the line between testifying and preaching when he writes about suicide. He likens assisted suicide to abortion. Just because he has the “ability to piss on his neighbor’s day lilies,” that doesn’t mean he has the right. (Do you see a theme developing here?) He stops short of saying that suicide is a sin, but points out that as a Catholic boy, he was raised to believe in offering up one’s pain for the good of the suffering souls. One wonders how differently he will feel about the matter when his agony lingers for months on end as he’s eaten by the cancer that killed his mother. Of course, he expects to die quickly and relatively painlessly from the bad heart his father left him…
Still, Lynch is more than half a businessman. He relates the story of his brother, who owned a business created to clean up after suicides. The brother sold the business after Kevorkian began his crusade (Lynch works in Michigan, after all). It wasn’t that people were no longer going to kill themselves, they just weren’t going to make such a mess. The brother saw no profit in continuing to serve the grieving public. Lynch, however, foresees that if he can’t prevent assisted suicides, he may as well open “obitoria” where people can come to die in a building beside the funeral home. One-shop stopping.
This was a frustrating book, but full of food for thought. Most of the essays were structured like poems: a stanza on one topic, a stanza on another, quick interplay between the two as if in a chorus, several more stanzas, a final chorus. I found the lack of linear thought dizzying. Yet the poet has a gift for phrasing. I find myself wanting to adopt some of Lynch’s bon mots, like “Are you out of your kevorking mind?”
February 17, 2009
What? Huh? Not only does this guy not really tell any story, he spends far too much time either degrading any generation other than his own or not really telling us why he thinks abortion is bad. BOREEEENG. The only reason it's not 1 star is because there are a few excellent decent quotable sentences and perspectives. Otherwise, pretty flat.
October 18, 2022
Misógino y cavernícola.
July 12, 2022
La reseña del NYT la define muy bien: Poderosa, auténtica y llena de una especie de claridad ética y estética.
Y es así: palabras, hechos y principios muy meditados, con una franqueza sublime y una capacidad retórica excelente.
Y es así: palabras, hechos y principios muy meditados, con una franqueza sublime y una capacidad retórica excelente.
March 26, 2022
Este libro tiene una forma muy particular de contar anécdotas del autor en su profesión fúnebre y tornarlas en reflexiones filosóficas sobre la vida y la muerte. Hace las preguntas correctas en la mayor parte del libro. Dentro de nuestros modos y formas de concebir la vida, no tenemos, desde niñxs, discusiones sobre la muerte y nuestros enfrentamientos a ella. Es algo que sabemos que ocurre, pero nunca dimensionamos lo que implica que eso ocurra y cómo puede ocurrir.
Lynch es poeta, y se nota por la forma de convertir un ensayo en versos, sin duda escribe bien. Sin embargo, para mi gusto, hay partes muy adornadas y páginas que pueden resumirse en una oración. Perdía la atención en algunos pasajes. Puede tornarse aburrido, especialmente cuando toca el tema del golf.
Por último, aunque muchas partes del libro me encantaron y contribuyeron a mi proceso personal del duelo, no puedo obviar las ideas misóginas y retrógradas que el autor tiene con respecto al derecho a decidir. Los parangones que hizo sobre el suicidio, la eutanasia y el aborto fueron un tanto absurdos. Se nota que lo escribió un conservador católico en 1997, ¿me cachai?
Lynch es poeta, y se nota por la forma de convertir un ensayo en versos, sin duda escribe bien. Sin embargo, para mi gusto, hay partes muy adornadas y páginas que pueden resumirse en una oración. Perdía la atención en algunos pasajes. Puede tornarse aburrido, especialmente cuando toca el tema del golf.
Por último, aunque muchas partes del libro me encantaron y contribuyeron a mi proceso personal del duelo, no puedo obviar las ideas misóginas y retrógradas que el autor tiene con respecto al derecho a decidir. Los parangones que hizo sobre el suicidio, la eutanasia y el aborto fueron un tanto absurdos. Se nota que lo escribió un conservador católico en 1997, ¿me cachai?
February 14, 2008
Wow...I mean wow. A poet & an undertaker - a sensible combination, Thomas Lynch writes with such grace and clarity I often found myself rereading passages or laughing out loud. I didn't always agree with the Lynch's religious or political views, nor the way in which he expressed them, but accept my lens is a little thicker. It never ceases to amaze me how our culture deals - or doesn't - with death...a subject that has, does or will affect and effect us all. wow.
OOO - also, if you are/were a fan of Six Feet Under: apparently Allan Ball got the sense of how he wanted the show to feel based on this & another Lynch book. When reading, you can clearly see why/how.
OOO - also, if you are/were a fan of Six Feet Under: apparently Allan Ball got the sense of how he wanted the show to feel based on this & another Lynch book. When reading, you can clearly see why/how.
Read
November 5, 2016Late in this collection, in the essay "Jessica, the Hound and the Casket Trade," Thomas Lynch begins to go predictably off on a tangent when discussing the perception the general public has of undertakers - generally negative. But, unlike in some of his essays, he reels himself in fairly quickly. When he begins to examine public perceptions of politicians and lawyers, he writes, "But back to caskets and bodies and funerals." Yes, please.
In a number of essays, that is precisely what I was thinking to myself as I read his overblown, rambling prose. Lynch is at his best - his most insightful and nuanced - when he directs his musings to caskets, bodies and funerals. However, even when he is exploring burials, his tendency is toward writing that obfuscates meaning with overwriting and cliches.
The most frustrating example of this is in the essay "Sweeney." His friend, a poet, is also a hypochondriac and a gourmand. Lynch obnoxiously describes him as "a charming neurotic of the hypochondriacal variety." Really? He does this so often that his essays are imbued with a sort of smarmy, humble brag tone that I began to despise toward the end of the collection.
By the time I got to "Uncle Eddie, Inc," an essay that conflates assisted suicide and abortion with about as much nuance as an acme hammer dropping on Wile E. Coyote, I almost gave up on finishing the book.
He does get back around to "caskets, bodies, and funerals and his observations are tender and earnest. However, as someone who grew up in a mortuary and comes from a family of undertakers, I can say that some of his knowledge and perspectives seem outdated. This could be because laws and regulations differ from state to state and even county to county. Even if it is a bit outdated, the essays that stay focused on his vast history and knowledge of the "dismal trade," and how this history and knowledge has impacted his life are the most effective. Still not sure I would recommend the entire collection...
In a number of essays, that is precisely what I was thinking to myself as I read his overblown, rambling prose. Lynch is at his best - his most insightful and nuanced - when he directs his musings to caskets, bodies and funerals. However, even when he is exploring burials, his tendency is toward writing that obfuscates meaning with overwriting and cliches.
The most frustrating example of this is in the essay "Sweeney." His friend, a poet, is also a hypochondriac and a gourmand. Lynch obnoxiously describes him as "a charming neurotic of the hypochondriacal variety." Really? He does this so often that his essays are imbued with a sort of smarmy, humble brag tone that I began to despise toward the end of the collection.
By the time I got to "Uncle Eddie, Inc," an essay that conflates assisted suicide and abortion with about as much nuance as an acme hammer dropping on Wile E. Coyote, I almost gave up on finishing the book.
He does get back around to "caskets, bodies, and funerals and his observations are tender and earnest. However, as someone who grew up in a mortuary and comes from a family of undertakers, I can say that some of his knowledge and perspectives seem outdated. This could be because laws and regulations differ from state to state and even county to county. Even if it is a bit outdated, the essays that stay focused on his vast history and knowledge of the "dismal trade," and how this history and knowledge has impacted his life are the most effective. Still not sure I would recommend the entire collection...
November 9, 2018
This is a book that seems to improve with age. I first read it about 20 years ago when it was published in the UK - I enjoyed it, but did not think it was anything special. Twenty years later and I really liked it.
For those who don't know Lynch it worth knowing he is probably unique in combining the work of being an undertaker and a published poet. The book weaves themes around his work - around the meaning of life and death, with references to poets and poetry. The book is made up of a dozen sections - I suppose essays or even musings would be the best title for them. I do not think they are uniformly excellent, but all good - and a few were wonderful in that best of ways of reflecting on life that makes you both laugh and cry. Occasionally the American slang and cultural references irritated, but this is my problem and not the books. Given Lynch is American they were perfectly reasonable. For me the best were Gladstone, Crapper, Sweeney, The Right Hand of the Father and Words Made Flesh.
Something a little different.
For those who don't know Lynch it worth knowing he is probably unique in combining the work of being an undertaker and a published poet. The book weaves themes around his work - around the meaning of life and death, with references to poets and poetry. The book is made up of a dozen sections - I suppose essays or even musings would be the best title for them. I do not think they are uniformly excellent, but all good - and a few were wonderful in that best of ways of reflecting on life that makes you both laugh and cry. Occasionally the American slang and cultural references irritated, but this is my problem and not the books. Given Lynch is American they were perfectly reasonable. For me the best were Gladstone, Crapper, Sweeney, The Right Hand of the Father and Words Made Flesh.
Something a little different.
December 30, 2019
I am so torn by this book, and my words here won't do justice to explain it. This man directed the funerals of my grandparents, my father's sister who died an early death, and the parents, teachers, friends, and family friends of my parents. The essays that describe his trade, the Lynch funeral home, the town of Milford, and caring for the living or grappling with loss, are important, emotionally wrenching, and at times, overwhelming. There are others (ones to which I can't relate), in which he belittles women's worth or tries to gloss over complex discussions of choice, that I found to be distracting and mystifying. Grateful to have read it and to learn from his experiences, without agreeing with his ideas or politics.
January 7, 2019
This book has some poignant passages on death. The author is a poet, and it shows.
His background as an Irish Catholic American Baby Boomer cishet man shows, too. His tirades on planned parenthood/abortion became distracting and he expresses outdated and unpleasant attitudes toward women throughout. His bitterness toward the IRS and attempts at comedy don’t land with me.
Worth a read (or maybe just a skim) for anyone interested in death and dying, but not my top recommendation on the subject.
His background as an Irish Catholic American Baby Boomer cishet man shows, too. His tirades on planned parenthood/abortion became distracting and he expresses outdated and unpleasant attitudes toward women throughout. His bitterness toward the IRS and attempts at comedy don’t land with me.
Worth a read (or maybe just a skim) for anyone interested in death and dying, but not my top recommendation on the subject.
February 1, 2016
Deeply disappointed by the conservative judgements tucked in between an otherwise well written book.
December 31, 2024
"Pero ¿si no somos una carga para nuestros hijos, entonces para quién? ¿Para el Gobierno? ¿Para la Iglesia? ¿Para los contribuyentes? ¿Para quién? ¿No fueron ellos, nuestros hijos, una carga para nosotros? ¿Y no fue esa carga lo que nos hizo sentir vivos y amados y útiles y capaces?".
Este ensayo me parece un claro ejemplo del pensamiento conservador de la generación boomer. Thomas Lynch dirigió una casa fúnebre por más de 20 años, lo que le permite tener una idea muy clara sobre la muerte y sus curiosidades. Para él, el trato a los enfermos y a los muertos que se da en pleno siglo XXI es hasta indecoroso. Y por ejemplo, en temas sensibles como el aborto o la eutanasia tiene clara su posición a contracorriente de estos nuevos derechos.
Con todo y eso, me parece un libro entretenido y con algunas reflexiones interesantes.
Este ensayo me parece un claro ejemplo del pensamiento conservador de la generación boomer. Thomas Lynch dirigió una casa fúnebre por más de 20 años, lo que le permite tener una idea muy clara sobre la muerte y sus curiosidades. Para él, el trato a los enfermos y a los muertos que se da en pleno siglo XXI es hasta indecoroso. Y por ejemplo, en temas sensibles como el aborto o la eutanasia tiene clara su posición a contracorriente de estos nuevos derechos.
Con todo y eso, me parece un libro entretenido y con algunas reflexiones interesantes.
October 2, 2012
Thomas Lynch is a poet of proud Irish extraction, as well as chief undertaker of Milford, Michigan. His talk at Greenbelt Festival in summer 2012 was one of that year’s highlights for me. This book is not so much an account of the undertaking profession as a brilliant set of essays about life and death, perfectly balanced between humor and pathos. Despite the often horrific nature of his work – even small-town Michigan seems to have its fair share of grisly murders and suicides – and the constantly reinforced knowledge that we are all just smelly flesh waiting to be embalmed and put in a box, he maintains a belief that life is sacred and meaningful, if arbitrary.
February 23, 2009
I really liked parts of this one but at times it seemed too disconnected a set of essays and other times I thought it seemed very preachy and judgemental. The author ended up fulfilling several baby boomer stereotypes that I had a hard time ignoring. He is a good writer and story teller overall and has some excellent arguements and discussions about our outlook on life and death so I still recommend the book, but while I was in the middle of it I found myself not wanting to pick it up much and wishing for something more compelling.
May 7, 2010
I had great hopes for this book when I bought it. I was vaguely familiar with the poet undertaker and had heard a lot of praise for his prose. The book is uneven. Lynch is very good when discussing some of the details of his trade, his family and his hometown, but incredibly boring when reporting on his life as a minor poet. I was also disheartened by his gratuitous swipes at Jessica Mitford, who wrote an important book regarding the funeral industry.
April 9, 2019
Last year I read a book of his called "Bodies in Motion and at Rest". I think it was my favorite book of 2018. This is the only title of his that's available on Audible so I wanted to give it a shot. Its beautiful, dark, honest, funny and macabre. He deals with death and his perspective on death, dying, funerals, tragedy, burials, suicide, abortion and Jack Kevorkian is fascinating. He's also a poet and he uses language beautifully. Its not for everyone, but if you're looking for something that will make you think and possibly look at life and death a little differently, I'd recommend his work.
April 10, 2025
"Una vez que esté muerto, suba los pies, dé por terminado el asunto y deje que el marido o la señora o los niños o una hermana decidan si lo entierran o lo queman o lo disparan por un cañón o lo dejan secar en cualquier zanja. No será su día para verlo, porque a los muertos no les importa."
January 5, 2008
The first time I read this book was back when I was an undergraduate. I had not yet experienced the deaths of both of my parents, or dealt with the aftermath of my own suicide attempt. For a very long time I would recall passages of the book in reflecting on the nature of death, but as time went on I forgot more and more of it. So coming back to it over 20 years later is like returning to a familiar space, seeing it in a new way, and realizing that I didn't remember it as accurately as I had once thought. The basics still hold true, namely that funerals are for the living, not the dead. Also the idea that really, the dead don't care after death, so the survivors should just do what they want in terms of memorializing. I didn't not realize just how adamant Lynch was in his beliefs regarding abortion and euthanasia. I think ultimately he and I are more in agreement than I would have initially thought. His philosophy comes down to the idea that as long as people are given bodily autonomy by their governments, then they must treat these rights with great care and respect. I can get behind that.
June 5, 2021
Mr. Lynch’s 1997 memoir about being an undertaker reminded me of a cross between James Herriot’s ‘All Creatures Great and Small’ and Garrison Keillor’s Lake Wobegon in it being a gentle slow read about a unique profession. The stories are not in chronological order. ‘The Undertaking’ explains how American customs have evolved during the twentieth century in dealing with life and death. Beyond ample amounts of funny stories and remarks, as well as gut-wrenching material, the author’s observations and ruminations about facing our and loved one’s mortality are thought-provoking. I found myself frequently reading excerpts of Mr. Lynch’s book to my wife, which led to interesting discussions. Part of that may be because we are both sixty years old and have more days behind us than ahead.
The Michigan undertaker touches such topics as respecting grief; embalming his own dad; their mom’s Catholic faith and dying of cancer; why funeral parlors are similar to old-style family parlors; various mindsets about what happens after we die; his hometown of Milford; his friendship with a hypochondriac poet; an undertaker’s reputation; and how the nature of the job psychologically spills over into their personal lives. Mr. Lynch’s recollections about his childhood, early adulthood, divorce, and raising four young kids on his own effectively run the entire gamut of emotions and fears. He also includes a nonsensical topic about combining cemeteries and golf courses. Mr. Lynch’s chapter musing about homicide and suicide is not only highly philosophical but quite gory. The last short chapter about his eventual death was a great way to end the book.
Mr. Lynch has a wonderful way with words. This should come as no surprise because he is an accomplished poet. Readers who have lost loved ones or have deep fears about their own inevitable death may find solace from ‘The Undertaking.’ It made me happy to be alive and surrounded by family and friends. I could ask no more from a book.
The Michigan undertaker touches such topics as respecting grief; embalming his own dad; their mom’s Catholic faith and dying of cancer; why funeral parlors are similar to old-style family parlors; various mindsets about what happens after we die; his hometown of Milford; his friendship with a hypochondriac poet; an undertaker’s reputation; and how the nature of the job psychologically spills over into their personal lives. Mr. Lynch’s recollections about his childhood, early adulthood, divorce, and raising four young kids on his own effectively run the entire gamut of emotions and fears. He also includes a nonsensical topic about combining cemeteries and golf courses. Mr. Lynch’s chapter musing about homicide and suicide is not only highly philosophical but quite gory. The last short chapter about his eventual death was a great way to end the book.
Mr. Lynch has a wonderful way with words. This should come as no surprise because he is an accomplished poet. Readers who have lost loved ones or have deep fears about their own inevitable death may find solace from ‘The Undertaking.’ It made me happy to be alive and surrounded by family and friends. I could ask no more from a book.
Did Not Finish
September 22, 2023I started this, read about 20% of it, and put it down. It was - disappointingly - rather boring. I'd recently read Caitlin Doughty's book about working in this same career.. and while I didn't expect it be the exact same sort of thing, I did think it would be more, you know, interesting. I can't begrudge him going a more introspective or contemplative route (I have now learned he was already a published poet), but I don't think he's someone I'm interested in getting to know on that level. Now, two and half years later, I have lightly skimmed through the rest of it, and with that and checking a few reviews here.. that has been confirmed. I'm refraining from rating as I read well less than half, and perhaps I went in with unfair expectations.. but like, imho, very boring.
ETA: The bookmark I was using with this book said "Death Before DNF" which I now find deeply funny
ETA: The bookmark I was using with this book said "Death Before DNF" which I now find deeply funny
September 29, 2026
Le doy 4 (y no 3) porque me parece realmente bonita la forma de escribir y, como poeta de profesión enterrador, reflexionar después de toda su experiencia sobre la muerte y sobre cómo los humanos nos enfrentamos (o no) a ella. Aunque a veces peca de conservador.
Además, lo compré en una feria del libro antiguo donde venía una dedicatoria de 2004 de una tal Paquita que "espera que le guste mucho a pesar de no ser un tema muy habitual", y siempre hay que hacer caso a las Paquitas de la vida.
Además, lo compré en una feria del libro antiguo donde venía una dedicatoria de 2004 de una tal Paquita que "espera que le guste mucho a pesar de no ser un tema muy habitual", y siempre hay que hacer caso a las Paquitas de la vida.
July 24, 2022
I stumbled across this book and my interest was piqued by the connection with the 'family business'. The author is a poet/funeral director, sharing thoughts on life and death, and the human condition. Appreciated the dry, tongue-in-cheek humor mixed in with the difficulties of the profession.
April 20, 2026
I decided to pick this book up from the thrift store for the sole reason that the author and I work in the same industry, and I thought a memoir from a funeral director could be an interesting read. I was wrong on two counts- this isn’t really a memoir, it’s a collection of poetic essays that have a few scattered stories from the author’s own experience, and it wasn’t really interesting at all. There are some mildly thought-provoking reflections about life and death and what’s it like working in a business that involves both, but by and large this was a tedious book that I really only finished out of obligation to my monthly reading goal.
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