Weepers

by Peter Mendelsund

A messianic tale about a group of professional mourners—a darkly funny novel of grief, mystery and redemption from the author of The Delivery.

Ed is a weeper. A professional weeper.

He's a card-carrying member of an eccentric union hired to cry at funerals, wakes, services and burials. It’s an odd job, but his services are sorely needed these days, as the town, the region, the country as a whole has become more or less numb. No one is able to summon a shred of human emotion whatsoever. Not anymore. (What’d be the point? The world’s already gone to hell.)

So there’s always work for Ed and his colleagues. But all those cries can wear a man down, and the tears don’t flow quite like they used to, even for a consummate pro like Ed.

Then one morning, a stranger comes to town. A scrawny kid with no belongings, no parents, no name, no past. And at precisely the moment of his arrival, people begin to experience something new. Something strange. An onslaught of unbidden feelings, unfamiliar feelings, too many feelings

A surrealist story of mourning and messiahs, deserts and droughts, cowboys and junkies, miracles and mass hysteria, the lure of despair and the solace of friendship. Peter Mendelsund’s Weepers is a novel for this our age of anesthesia and anger.

Genres: Fiction, Literary Fiction, Speculative Fiction, Dystopia, Novels, Fantasy

275 pages, Kindle Edition

First published June 17, 2025

About the author

Peter Mendelsund is the associate art director of Alfred A. Knopf and a recovering classical pianist. His designs have been described by The Wall Street Journal as being “the most instantly recognizable and iconic book covers in contemporary fiction.” He lives in New York.

Reviews

[The Speculative Shelf · Rating 4 out of 5]

A melancholy and surreal neo-Western about a band of professional mourners who offer their tear-laden eyes to a desiccated world. It evokes Station Eleven, with its troupe of performers bringing their artistry and gifts to a world now bereft of them.

Our narrator, Ed, has a very distinct worldview and his colorful oratory style held me in thrall throughout. For instance, he describes a perky character as having, “...all that vim just soda-popping through her veins,” and someone who is even-keeled as, “...sticking to his fucking row, sure as shooting, regular as rust.” 

The vibes in this book are just off the charts, and I really dug how it all played out. Mendelsund has crafted a unique tale that will surely stick in my craw. It’s sad and mournful and centered around death, yet it pulses with life in Ed’s eyes and through his narration.

My thanks to the publisher and NetGalley for an advanced reader copy in exchange for an honest review.

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[♑︎♑︎♑︎ ♑︎♑︎♑︎ · Rating 5 out of 5]

Peter Mendelsund is one of the most interesting writers around. I've read both What We See When We Read and Cover, both of which fascinated me because it was clear to me as I read that my inner world is nothing like Peter Mendelsund's, and yet he writes in boldly declarative sentences, as if he assumes everyone thinks exactly like him, as if his conclusions are obvious, and as if everyone should understand him and agree with his way of thinking. This is in no way a criticism. It made both of these books wonderful and surprising for me.

I was drawn to Weepers because thematically it reminded me of Ways of Dying by the great South African novelist, Zakes Mda. I loved reading the Mda novel more, I think, because the story felt organically connected with Mda's culture. Mendelsund's novel seemed a little cold by comparison.

But I liked Weepers even so, again for the way Mendelsund's manner of expressing himself, of arranging words, is so different from my own way of expressing myself and arranging words. It's hard to explain. I'm sorry I haven't yet made time for "Same, Same," which has been on my shelf for years waiting to be read.

[Carl (Hiatus. IBB in Jan) · Rating 4 out of 5]

Mourning the dead is always a sight easier than loving the living

Weepers is Peter Mendelsund’s surreal, twisted meditation on grief and emotional detachment in a world grown colder, grittier, and numb with time. Told through the intimate observations of professional weeper Ed, the reader frowns and grins more often than weeps.

The world has gone to hell. Nobody cares about anyone anymore, giving rise to a peculiar new profession born of emotional vacancy. Comically narrated, the novel introduces the 302 Union of professional mourners, hired to cry at funerals, wakes, and burials. Business is thriving, until one morning, an unnamed kid arrives. No belongings, no parents, no voice, no past. His presence sparks an inexplicably intense emotional response from everyone around him, in a world that has stopped feeling. What follows is a surrealist tale of messianic projection and self-destructive obsession, represented by the intriguing portrayal of Ed and the kid.

Peter Mendelsund writes with an edge and certainty, almost convincing, exposing the most absurd inner thoughts of Ed, cowboy-poet-weeper. His self-absorption and fixation with the kid are translated by an immediate, disproportionate paternal manner. The kid is nearly silent, frequently disappears, reappearing bruised, grittier, and with a stench; offering no explanations, nurturing Ed’s obsession with who he is and where he keeps going or what he is doing. The plot is secondary to the character study, and the narrative meanders through funeral services and Ed’s life, his inner thoughts and mumbling ever-present.

Peter Mendelsund's prose shines in its architectural prose, cleverly constructing each sentence while the pacing denies the narrative’s urgency to answers. It mirrors grief in its repetitive, senseless, occasionally sharp and humorous state. His sentences shift between bleak aphorism and fever dream, where every image feels a little smudged and unclear, a little dusty at the edges. The chapters are short and snappy, with cowboy poetry intercalating prose. There’s a deliberate avoidance of closure, of clarity, and yet Weepers is a compelling and original novel on grief, showing how detachment feels when it wears a person down. The result is a story that sticks not because of what it says, but because of what it could mean.

Weepers is an accomplished, unhinged character study with a thought-provoking plot that lingers and revels in a tear that never quite falls. There are no resolutions here, only unraveling. If you're looking for answers, look elsewhere. If you're willing to sit in the quiet chaos of a world that forgot how to feel, through contemplative character reading, Weepers might just be for you.

Rating: 4.0/5

Disclaimer: I received an Advance Reader Copy (ARC) of this book from the publisher via NetGalley in exchange for an honest and unbiased review. All thoughts and opinions expressed are my own.

[Brent · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book just didn't work for me. I think the basic concept was interesting enough, but then it wasn't fleshed out. The main character was hard to connect with and his obsession with "The Boy" for a big part of the book was confusing and not compelling.

Ultimately, it felt like the author was trying too hard to make something that was "important literature" ala Cormac McCarthy or James Joyce (with the lack of quotation marks when someone is speaking and the meandering almost stream-of-consciousness plot, respectively.)

[endrju]

What I found interesting: the voice, hints at the broader context of environmental collapse and the reason for numbness and weepers; irony. What I did not find interesting: Christianity and all allusions pertaining to it (I grew up and live in a very Christian country, but I don't care for it at all); cowboys. All in all, it's not a bad novel, I just did not quite gel with it.

[savyreads · Rating 2 out of 5]

The concept of this book is what drew me in. Once o began reading the relationship that the author had with the boy became confusing and the plot just seemed flat once he was introduced into the story line. Cool idea but just wasn’t a read that held my interest.


I received an advance review copy for free, and I am leaving this review voluntarily.

[Jules · Rating 1 out of 5]

ETA: I'm still really mad when I think about this book.
This book is not a dystopian novel about a guild of mourners. It's a meandering ghost of a plot that is as off-putting at the glare of the sun in the desert, complete with dull poetry and a random messianic plotline. There's very little about grief, death or dying- just some half hearted attempt to write a new John Ford movie.

[nestle • whatnestleread · Rating 4 out of 5]

What a strange little book. It's somewhere between a novel on grief and surrealist character study? In a world where no one feels anything anymore, a whole profession has popped up just to simulate sorrow. Ed, our narrator, is a professional weeper (literally paid to cry at funerals) and through his dry wit and detached musings, we get a glimpse of a society that’s emotionally bankrupt.

Then comes the kid: silent, grimy, bruised, but magnetic. He says nothing and does very little, but somehow ignites something in everyone around him, especially Ed, who becomes obsessed with protecting him, understanding him, feeling something because of him.

It's a meandering story for sure. It drifts, lingers, loops in a way that feels like it's mimicking grief. It leans into repetition and contradiction, building a world that’s weirdly funny one moment and bleak the next.

The prose is gorgeous and odd, with bursts of cowboy poetry tucked in. If you like a moody, ambiguous, and a little unhinged story, weepers gives you an unique take on what happens when we forget how to feel—and what it might take to remember.

[Xine Segalas · Rating 1 out of 5]

I’ve been reading many books about grief lately—both fiction and memoir—and I’m also a fan of dystopian and speculative fiction. That combination made Weepers sound like exactly my kind of book. Unfortunately, it wasn’t. I found Mendelsund's writing style difficult to get through, the characters lacked depth, and the speculative elements never fully took shape. Instead of feeling immersed, I spent most of the book disconnected and confused. The story lacks flow, and ultimately, it wasn't an enjoyable reading experience for me. While some readers may find merit in its surreal, allegorical approach, it simply did not work for me, and I would not recommend it.

I appreciate and thank NetGalley and Farrar, Straus and Giroux for the opportunity to read and review this book.

[Book · Rating 3 out of 5]

2.5 to 3. I loved the writing style but did find it dense and harder to get through. This probably works for people who love more stream of consciousness narration. I found Ed's motivations to be lacking but maybe I missed something.

[sami (semi-hiatus)]

dnf-ed @ 7%. this book was not for me sadly. love the cover though!

thank you to netgalley and the publisher for the arc in exchange for my honest review.

[Theo Espy · Rating 5 out of 5]

holy shit. so impressed

[Jacqueline Nyathi · Rating 3 out of 5]

I liked this one for how different it was, and literary too; but in a world where stories are increasingly written as if they’re about to be adapted for the screen, it won’t be for everyone.

Everyone in the place has become numb; no one cries at funerals. So people hire professional mourners called Weepers who, with their tears, bring some gravitas and dignity to final goodbyes because what’s a funeral without visible grief? This is most of the story really, except for how the protagonist, Ed, becomes quite obsessed with a young man who drifts into town and who turns out to (maybe, probably) possess a special gift: that of making the people around him cry (even when he doesn’t himself).

I felt like there was a deeper allegory in this novel that I couldn’t quite reach, like just… *there*. Surely this young man (who’s never named; he’s just “the kid”) means something, if not to Ed then maybe as a kind of symbol of something … or something. It’s a frustrating feeling I had throughout my reading of this novel, that I could have gone deeper if I’d just … *grasped* the thing; but I never really did. (This may completely cultural for me because, unlike the assertion of the publisher’s copy, I cannot identify with this being an age of mass anaesthesia.) In a way it’s fine though, because the novel is perfectly readable, being very atmospheric, and with Ed’s “cowboy poetry” (samples included in the text) and a lot of Ed’s interiority, which is wry and also earnest and touching. (Ed has an intriguing kind of everyday profundity.)

So, read for a sense of place, because even though professional mourners do exist in the (or our) world, it’s interesting to imagine them in this place and context. Apart from a big climactic thing near the end of the novel, most of *Weepers* is the events in a slightly weird (and quite arid) small town someplace as seen through Ed the Cowboy-Poet’s eyes. Read also because *Weepers* is actually really well-written: It’s always interesting and both the mystery of the kid and Ed himself keep the story moving.

Thanks to FSG and NetGalley for early access.

[Lori · Rating 3 out of 5]

A group for criers for hire. Professional weepers. To attend your funerals and turn on the waterworks. To fill the seats and set the mood.

"I am a weeper as soon as I awake until the moment I sleep".

Weepers puts a unique spin on grief fiction. Ed and his fellow co-workers willingly attend funerals, immersing themselves in the act of grieving for a few bucks a day. It's their day job, stuffing themselves into grief-wear like we stuff ourselves into corporate-wear. They sit in front of a casket like we sit in front of a computer screen. They ball their eyes out in public like we ball ours out in the privacy of the restroom stalls.

To the others' chagrin, Ed befriends the 'kid', a newbie who starts showing up in the mornings at the lot where they wait for Reg to call their names and assign them their gigs. The kid is practically mute, giving up one word answers when pushed to interact, and Ed becomes overly protective of him when the group of them begin to realize that, while he appears to be effective at the whole Weepers thing, he himself has yet to shed an actual tear. Which, like, defeats the whole purpose of the gig, right?

Oh man, I loved the narrator's voice. This self fancied cowboy with his famous mustache and his middling poetry. This overthinker. This friend till the end.

And while I enjoyed this book overall, I wished it had spent more time focused on the actual Weepers, and less directly on the kid and his weird behaviors and Ed's obsession with him, because it felt at times like the Weeper storyline seemed to get put onto the back burner, which is a shame because, while yes, I see now how it was necessary to move things forward, I really liked the concept of the Weepers and the strange jobs they made a living at.

Dark, comedic, and yes, even a little gosh darn depressing, Weepers shines a light on the weirdness of death and the fear of being remembered by a horribly forgettable epitaph. It's about giving it your all when all you have to give is a good cry.

[Daniel Allen · Rating 3 out of 5]

Ed Franklin is a weeper. A professional hired to cry at wakes and funerals. As the world descends into a hellscape and the populace grows ever more numb, these professional criers are in great demand. When a young man unexpectedly appears in town, he will bring with him a torrent of unexpected emotions and impact Ed and his colleagues in unexpected ways.

The dystopian aspect of the novel didn't do much for me. I never was as taken as the author clearly was with the mystery surrounding the "kid". This messianic figure was suffused with unanswered questions. You quickly come to realize answers will not be forthcoming. A story that deals so forthrightly with death and grief doesn't necessarily make for invigorating reading. But to the author's credit he approaches these topics with an interesting prism. Saying that, there is an overwhelming sense of melancholy that at times threatens to swamp the novel.

I would have much preferred a more straightforward story about the life of the protagonist Ed Franklin. The parts of the novel that examined Franklin's hard scrabble childhood, most notably his relationship with his abusive father, were the book's strengths. I was also moved by the wake that one of the characters receives in the story's closing moments. There was real emotional heft.

[Anne Simpson · Rating 4 out of 5]

Very interesting, though I must admit I don't quite know what to make of it. The main character, Ed, is a professional mourner, a Weeper. There is a group of them, Union 302, available for hire to cry at funerals, and they are quite busy in this small, dying, southwest town. They are needed because so many people have become anesthetized to feeling. And into this group wanders "the Kid", a mysterious young vaguely Christ- like figure who doesn't cry himself, but his presence seems to unlock great feeling in the people around him. Of course, this mysterious stranger also provokes animosity and fear. He is attacked a number of times and does nothing to protect himself.

But Ed is really the main character, and we see him devoted to the kid, gradually getting sicker and approaching death. There is a lot of humor,too, in this book. I very much enjoyed the writing. Certainly different than anything I've read for a long time.

[TheADHDreader · Rating 3 out of 5]

The objective review:

It grieves me to say I did not finish this book. The whole thing is strangely off-putting I did not enjoy the sharp and direct prose, but it works incredibly well for what Mendelsund is trying to accomplish. The execution of an otherwise fascinating concept was not engaging enough to keep me in. A reflection on grief, apathy and the way our obsessions and emotions shape our relationships and identities might work for you. I may return to it later and do think it is worth exploring.

The ADHD review:

Some people who get paid to cry for others at funerals get a new team member and weird stuff starts happening. Two of them become bros. It's boring but if you're an apathetic mess, it could help shake things up. Who knows, I didn't finish it. 2 stars because the guy can write and grief is a real thing man. Process that stuff, don't pay others to do it for you.

[pattrice · Rating 2 out of 5]

As if Wise Blood had been written by a shallow man who mistook himself for deep. The premise pulled me in, and some of the writing is lovely. But there came a time when I wondered whether the author was doing really good job of depicting a self-indulgent/absorbed male protagonist obsessed with another man OR was simply a self-indulgent/absorbed, man-obsessed man himself. That's when I stopped slogging through, having lost any hope of any happenings of interest to any of us non-men. Like another reviewer, I'm a little bit mad at having wasted time on what turned out to be a crypto-christian cowboy-centered mess.

[AB · Rating 4 out of 5]

The narrator's voice here is so strong and unique -- funny, clever, poignant, drawing you into the fullness and strangeness of its world and plopping you down in the middle of it without explanation or apology. And Mendelsund's use of language is beautiful. The whole text is threaded through with vivid, sometimes startling (and, again, funny) images and phrases -- at one point, a faraway argument is described as "just violent little sounds, as like if you squeezed a songbird in your fist." The plot occasionally lags a bit, and its ending didn't give me the kinds of answers I was hoping for, but I loved this book. I didn't realize how long it had been since I'd read something I enjoyed so much.

[Josh · Rating 4 out of 5]

Weepers is a slow, deliberate novel that requires patience from readers, though it is never boring. The characters are well developed and interesting, while the world is familiar, yet somewhat alien. Initially, Peter Mendelsund’s writing felt derivative, but eventually gave way to his own unique style; the man loves long lists and has more than a mild dislike of quotation marks for dialog. But also, this book vibes.

Weepers will frustrate readers who need all questions answered. However, those who enjoy killer vibes, quirky characters, and an interesting world would do well to check out Weepers.

[Alice · Rating 3 out of 5]

This well-written chronicle of a group of paid weepers (those hired to attend functions, primarily funerals, and weep for the occasion) toggles between the rational and beyond logical explanation. Ed, poet and weeper, develops a fascination with a young boy. The boy, to those locked in rational thought, appears to be homeless, addicted, and surviving on the use of his body to others. Ed discovers and is swept up in the boy's spiritual gifts that transcend normal and bring surprising, inexplicable results to the weeping assignments in which the boy participates. I was glad to have read Weepers but was equally glad when it concluded.

[Madeleine · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is delightful. The narration style has this country ruffian poeticism that is darling in the way the shiny red cheeks of a cartoon Marlboro Man are darling. Gruff but soft. Insistently respectful.

The story is about a group of adults who cry at funerals professionally. And one day a youth joins their team and there’s just …something about him.

It’s lovely. And just a little heartbreaking.

If you liked Demon Copperhead and the works of George Saunders, this might be for you. Has the cheeky tender hearted southern charm of Demon, and the just-slightly-surreal atmosphere and quirk of Saunders.

[Venneh · Rating 4 out of 5]

Meditative book with short chapters about a near future when the pandemics haven't stopped and professional mourners have come back as a way to mourn the dead. We get a focus on the leader of a small crew of Weepers as they're called, and what happens when a new person rolls into town and decides to join. The chapter titles are all done up like a funeral service too, which is a neat touch. Solid, slow, reflective read.

[Beth · Rating 4 out of 5]

This novel is an extended exploration of the character, Ed, who narrates his encounters with others. Occasionally the story is “about” that supporting cast (“the kid” and Ed’s parents in particular), but not really. From cover to cover, we discover who Ed is and why he is the person he is.

While touching and full of turmoil, this story made me smile many times. There’s joy and humor in that darkness … which is, perhaps, why Ed is a poet.

[Linda · Rating 3 out of 5]

Strange story of a man who is a weeper - he belongs to the union. Weepers go to funerals or memorial services to cry for the deceased.
I had a difficult time grasping it on audio (which I finished) so I borrowed the e-book and listened and read for part of the book. Of course the problem with that is that the book has to get all my attention - no chores, no e-mails, nothing.
I will probably go back and pick up the reading to clarify some things.

[Fallon Chiasson]

DNF. Gosh, I wanted to love this book. Grief and cowboys—two of my favorite things. Like many other reviewers, the way the story was told just wasn’t it for me. I liked the setting, but wanted more; I liked the characters, but wanted more. What I didn’t care so much for, or really, about, was the kid. I was much more interested in the day to day life of a weeper, how we go here, and what’s it about. There are many other books about obsession I could have read if I wanted that.

[Amy1N · Rating 4 out of 5]

Grief. Loss. Love. Obsession. Family (found and otherwise). Poetry. Prose. Western. Religious reflection. I don’t know that there’s a way to really describe this book and do it justice. It did remind me of Illusions by Richard Bach. The only reason I didn’t give it five stars is because it took me forever and a day to read it because it did ramble a bit.

[abbie · Rating 2 out of 5]

DNF @ page 230. This is a meditation on the relationships between fathers and sons, how we express emotion, and hooo boy the rituals and comfort of organized religion. Unfortunately the dreamlike meditations on the main character’s mortality, regrets, etc meandered so far away from the questions of the plot that I couldn’t do it.

[LV · Rating 4 out of 5]

Back then he was my top pick for book jacket design. Nobody else could make a cover hum with so much stylish mischief. This one doesn’t sport the same jazzy look as The Delivery - so intricate even Chris Ware was like what the fuck my dude how- but there’s a crooked little charm to it, like he’s slipped his designer’s wit into the marrow of the writing. Charming, sly, and irresistible.

[Lakeland · Rating 2 out of 5]

Everything in me wanted to give this a million stars. The concept and even a lot of the punchy writing was veeeerrrrrryyyy up my alley. Something didn’t land for me, and it might be that I may be stupid and felt confused.