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Life as a Casketeer: What the Business of Death Can Teach the Living
∗Stars of the hit television series The Casketeers, as seen on Netflix∗
Francis and Kaiora Tipene aren't your typical funeral directors. With their famous humour and big-hearted personalities, the TVNZ and Netflix reality TV stars are changing the way we think about death and grief.
Life as a Casketeer reveals how Francis and Kaiora grew up in families that had few possessions but were rich with love and tikanga, and how they came to work in their often misunderstood profession. It's also a book about the Maori world view and traditional funeral customs. The Tipenes make death feel less mysterious and life feel more precious.
But most of all, Life as a Casketeer is a love story - for whanau, for culture and for each other. It is full of joy and sorrow, tears and laughter.
Francis and Kaiora Tipene aren't your typical funeral directors. With their famous humour and big-hearted personalities, the TVNZ and Netflix reality TV stars are changing the way we think about death and grief.
Life as a Casketeer reveals how Francis and Kaiora grew up in families that had few possessions but were rich with love and tikanga, and how they came to work in their often misunderstood profession. It's also a book about the Maori world view and traditional funeral customs. The Tipenes make death feel less mysterious and life feel more precious.
But most of all, Life as a Casketeer is a love story - for whanau, for culture and for each other. It is full of joy and sorrow, tears and laughter.
336 pages, Paperback
Published February 4, 2020
27 people are currently reading
123 people want to read
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 55 reviews
February 11, 2020
I would describe this book as gentle and kind on the soul. Francis and Kaiora Tipene and their reality show about their family-run funeral home business soared in popularity in New Zealand and their personality shines in this book but more so, their love of tikanga Māori, te reo, whānau and their jobs. The Tipene’s are funny, interesting and honest people who make something that is hard to talk about (death) easy to read about.
October 31, 2020
There is a special kind of grace and compassion repeatedly demonstrated by Francis Tipene, both in their television show and now in this book, that goes beyond just a working understanding of grief and mourning. It makes for and engaging and heartwarming read. It is a very simple book in simple language, but flows easily and can be dipped in and out of at leisure.
My only real criticism is of the regular fatphobia (both internalised and outward) that Francis displays throughout the book. It's disappointing that this is still considered acceptable and not discouraged by editors in our modern times.
My only real criticism is of the regular fatphobia (both internalised and outward) that Francis displays throughout the book. It's disappointing that this is still considered acceptable and not discouraged by editors in our modern times.
August 11, 2020
An easy and enjoyable read that shares the journey of a warm and full-of-life couple and their intriguing insights from a career surrounding the kaupapa of death. A topic of importance that has been seldom discussed openly in te ao Pākehā.
The sharing of stories of the old ways was really connecting and kete-filling for me to read as an urban rangatahi Māori.
I’m pleased that this pukapuka is written in a fun, digestible way where it is able to be shared and the concepts hopefully taken on board by a diverse audience.
The sharing of stories of the old ways was really connecting and kete-filling for me to read as an urban rangatahi Māori.
I’m pleased that this pukapuka is written in a fun, digestible way where it is able to be shared and the concepts hopefully taken on board by a diverse audience.
December 12, 2020
After watching their Netflix show I loved the humour and compassion they brought to their job. This book was more personal than the series and they are such special people doing what they do. 5 🌟
June 5, 2020
A lovely and interesting book that people who enjoy the series will appreciate. It was great to learn more about the Tipene's, their upbringings, motivations, thoughts. Very much appreciate the information on Māori tikanga, and thought Francis did an excellent job of demonstrating the key aspects of tangihanga and Māori views on death. I think Francis and Kaiora are beautiful souls and it shows through their words, their work, and their care for others. My feeling that the care with which they treat the dead who come to them is also an expression of great care for the living. I shed a few tears reading the book, much as I do when I watch the show.
September 19, 2020
Very enjoyable. A great companion piece to the Netflix documentary series
September 25, 2020
So much more personal than the series. Very special people doing a very difficult job.
October 29, 2020
Love them!
October 15, 2021
Francis started Tipene Funerals with his wife Kaiora when he was just 23. It was tough going, but with a lot of hard work - and some publicity from appearing on Homai te Pakipaki, a Māori karaoke show - they managed to find a niche in organising funerals that observe Māori customs. They also have a reality TV show called The Casketeers. Life as a Casketeer is something between an autobiography and a memoir of the trade.
It seemed inevitable that Francis would end up in funerals. His own life was steeped in tikanga, from his education at Hato Petera, a Catholic Māori boarding school, to his childhood in Pawarenga, a tiny settlement on the Whangape harbour in the Far North. He grew up in the 80s in a house with no running water. The only electricity was supplied by generator. The community was extremely Māori and extremely Catholic, with life centring on church and marae:
A lot of what Francis draws upon in his daily work comes from those times spent at tangihanga as a child. It seems like he ended up in the right career.
The basic protocol of a Māori funeral involves the body lying in an open casket for several days. This is traditionally on the marae “back home”, where the person’s tribe (iwi or hapū) or whānau (extended family) originally comes from. Family or friends - traditionally women - sit around the deceased. They weep loudly and carry pictures of them, their heads wreathed with kawakawa.
The deceased is never left alone. When people go to eat, someone stays with them. People sleep around them at night. It’s also not uncommon to touch them, for example to hongi, kiss, or hold hands.
Hundreds of people can show up at these funerals and as such they can also become an occasion to settle family business. People may arrive to express frustration or anger at the deceased - somewhat paradoxically, this is a way of acknowledging the stature of the person in life. If you’re a somebody, you made a mark on the world. If you’re a nobody, you didn’t.
That’s the theory, anyway. It may seem disrespectful, but the point is to acknowledge - truthfully - the impact of the dead upon the living. That is a simple recognition of the mana of their deeds, good or bad.
Self-control is needed, though, or resentment boils over into hatred, into a final revenge of the living upon the dead. I still think about Saddam Hussein’s execution, for example, a completely tactless affair in which he was heckled and abused till the end. There are even rumours his corpse was mutilated further.
A lot of people simply don’t care because he was a dictator, but that kind of treatment of the dead has always disgusted me. How is there any dignity in it? If you can’t wish your enemies a good death without gloating at their downfall, how can you possibly move on with your own life? This is a coarsening of sensibilities, a failure to recognise other people - even your worst enemies - as humans like yourself. You have to allow things to come to their end, and finish them on a tone of love or conciliation or solemnity. Without that, you cannot move forward.
So I have mixed feelings about this kind of direct frustration towards the dead. This kind of confrontation easily spirals out of control in these stormy gatherings of big families.
I have an example from my own life. In the memory I am standing between two very angry family members who are perhaps seconds away from throwing punches. The precise details have faded with time, the whole thing an unhappy blur in my childhood.
Heoi anō. We simply have to remember that funerals serve both the living and the dead. If we fixate on the squabbles of the living, we neglect to honour the dead.
Contact with the dead makes one inviolable - tapu. The funeral therefore ends with a big meal. Food being profane, the act of eating renders its participants noa, so they may safely interact with the rest of the world again. To violate this is to invite disaster upon yourself.
Francis relates an interesting story about this, in which he had a confrontation with his whānau about an overgrown plot of land in the family cemetery. Francis wanted to clean it up, but the location was considered tapu; it was said those who had disturbed the plot in the past had suddenly died.
Having seen many people grieve, Francis has a lot of observations on how the cultures are different. Pākehā funerals tend to be more formal and stoic, with a much clearer idea of what happens when. They are also more predictable customers: they always pay on time, always show up on time, and they always collect the ashes of their deceased!
Like in Māori funerals, eating together is an important part of Samoan funerals. However, this is done in the same room as the deceased - a big no-no in tikanga.
I would liken Māori funerals to a purging of emotions. The word for funeral comes from the word tangi, which means to wail, to cry, to make a noise - the noise in question not just being crying, but the loud wailing traditionally made by women for the dead.
There’s also singing and laughing. The tangihanga lasts several days, so it’s not as though you’re going to be crying that whole time. Sometimes it’s more like you’re hanging out with the dead. You share stories, you think about the good old days, you reminisce. This full range of emotional expression around the dead is perfectly normal.
Modern reality complicates these traditions. It’s probably safe to say there’s no such a thing as a purely “Māori funeral” or a purely “Pākehā” funeral anymore. Everyone has influenced everyone else, especially as different ethnic and religious groups have inter-married. Francis himself is both Māori and Tongan, was born Catholic, and later converted to his wife’s Mormon faith. The funeral customs have blended together over time:
The exchange of culture was exacerbated by the mass urbanisation of Māori in the 20th century. In the decades before World War II it is estimated that 90% of Māori lived in rural areas. By 1970, 80% lived in the cities.[1]
And this exchange wasn’t symmetric. Mass urbanisation came with a big loss of knowledge. Many people want to observe the old traditions - they just don’t know how. In the past, the elders were the guardians of this knowledge, but due to the massive dislocation of Māori from the homes of their culture within a few decades, there was a generation to whom it was not passed on.
That’s part of what makes this book so exciting. In an increasingly globalised world, the products of all cultures are on offer to everyone - you need only make a consumer decision as to which ones are “you”. “Customs” become mere “habits” or “hobbies”; “culture” is seen as something belonging to the past, or to secretive immigrant families yet to surrender to modernity.
This view of culture is devastating to the world’s beauty and diversity. And this book proves it fallacious. It is possible to navigate a different course through life, one which acknowledges a deeper source of meaning than Spotify, Netflix, and videogames. It does not emulate the past in empty gestures, but adjusts the customs of old to the circumstances of new. This is a position which neither denies the future nor forgets the past, but marries both in a happy present.
I watched a few episodes of The Casketeers and it wasn’t for me. But I do highly recommend Life as a Casketeer. It's a more personal, serious look at things, with a fascinating comparison of customs and cultures, driven by a lot of thought-provoking stories from Francis from his childhood and his time in business. There are less interesting bits too, but the good ultimately outshines the boring. Life as a Casketeer is a heart-warming case for love and family; by exposing the grisly business of death, it ultimately makes the case for life.
You can read this review and others on Substack.
[1] These figures from Tangata Whenua - An Illustrated History by Atholl Anderson, Judith Binney, and Aroha Harris. Bridget Williams Books, Wellington, 2015. p. 434. As cited in Urban Māori: The Second Great Migration by Bradford Haami. Published for Te Whānau of Waipareira Trust by Oratia Books, Oratia Media, Auckland, 2018. p. 9. See also Ka Whawhai Tonu Mātou by Ranginui Walker. Penguin Books NZ, Auckland, 1990, p. 196-7.
It seemed inevitable that Francis would end up in funerals. His own life was steeped in tikanga, from his education at Hato Petera, a Catholic Māori boarding school, to his childhood in Pawarenga, a tiny settlement on the Whangape harbour in the Far North. He grew up in the 80s in a house with no running water. The only electricity was supplied by generator. The community was extremely Māori and extremely Catholic, with life centring on church and marae:
Tangi were a part of daily life. One moment you were outside playing with your friends and whānau and the next you heard the car horns tooting from about a kilometre away. That was the signal to the home people that the manuhiri were nearly there. It was an eerie feeling. Once you knew what was going on and what the sound of the horns ringing down the valley of Pawarenga meant, you almost started to cry automatically. Even today when I take bodies up north from Auckland, as we draw near home we start tooting. (15).
A lot of what Francis draws upon in his daily work comes from those times spent at tangihanga as a child. It seems like he ended up in the right career.
The basic protocol of a Māori funeral involves the body lying in an open casket for several days. This is traditionally on the marae “back home”, where the person’s tribe (iwi or hapū) or whānau (extended family) originally comes from. Family or friends - traditionally women - sit around the deceased. They weep loudly and carry pictures of them, their heads wreathed with kawakawa.
The deceased is never left alone. When people go to eat, someone stays with them. People sleep around them at night. It’s also not uncommon to touch them, for example to hongi, kiss, or hold hands.
Hundreds of people can show up at these funerals and as such they can also become an occasion to settle family business. People may arrive to express frustration or anger at the deceased - somewhat paradoxically, this is a way of acknowledging the stature of the person in life. If you’re a somebody, you made a mark on the world. If you’re a nobody, you didn’t.
People who didn’t like the dead person will still show up to pay their respects or say, ‘You were a mongrel - remember when you were young and you stole this or did that and I’ll never forgive you and I hope you go to hell.’ Sometimes they praise and condemn the person in the same kōrero… But following some sharp words at a tangi, words of love and comfort will come and, because of what went before, they will be so deep and meaningful that they move you to tears. (234-5).
That’s the theory, anyway. It may seem disrespectful, but the point is to acknowledge - truthfully - the impact of the dead upon the living. That is a simple recognition of the mana of their deeds, good or bad.
Self-control is needed, though, or resentment boils over into hatred, into a final revenge of the living upon the dead. I still think about Saddam Hussein’s execution, for example, a completely tactless affair in which he was heckled and abused till the end. There are even rumours his corpse was mutilated further.
A lot of people simply don’t care because he was a dictator, but that kind of treatment of the dead has always disgusted me. How is there any dignity in it? If you can’t wish your enemies a good death without gloating at their downfall, how can you possibly move on with your own life? This is a coarsening of sensibilities, a failure to recognise other people - even your worst enemies - as humans like yourself. You have to allow things to come to their end, and finish them on a tone of love or conciliation or solemnity. Without that, you cannot move forward.
So I have mixed feelings about this kind of direct frustration towards the dead. This kind of confrontation easily spirals out of control in these stormy gatherings of big families.
I have an example from my own life. In the memory I am standing between two very angry family members who are perhaps seconds away from throwing punches. The precise details have faded with time, the whole thing an unhappy blur in my childhood.
Heoi anō. We simply have to remember that funerals serve both the living and the dead. If we fixate on the squabbles of the living, we neglect to honour the dead.
Contact with the dead makes one inviolable - tapu. The funeral therefore ends with a big meal. Food being profane, the act of eating renders its participants noa, so they may safely interact with the rest of the world again. To violate this is to invite disaster upon yourself.
Francis relates an interesting story about this, in which he had a confrontation with his whānau about an overgrown plot of land in the family cemetery. Francis wanted to clean it up, but the location was considered tapu; it was said those who had disturbed the plot in the past had suddenly died.
Having seen many people grieve, Francis has a lot of observations on how the cultures are different. Pākehā funerals tend to be more formal and stoic, with a much clearer idea of what happens when. They are also more predictable customers: they always pay on time, always show up on time, and they always collect the ashes of their deceased!
Like in Māori funerals, eating together is an important part of Samoan funerals. However, this is done in the same room as the deceased - a big no-no in tikanga.
I would liken Māori funerals to a purging of emotions. The word for funeral comes from the word tangi, which means to wail, to cry, to make a noise - the noise in question not just being crying, but the loud wailing traditionally made by women for the dead.
There’s also singing and laughing. The tangihanga lasts several days, so it’s not as though you’re going to be crying that whole time. Sometimes it’s more like you’re hanging out with the dead. You share stories, you think about the good old days, you reminisce. This full range of emotional expression around the dead is perfectly normal.
Modern reality complicates these traditions. It’s probably safe to say there’s no such a thing as a purely “Māori funeral” or a purely “Pākehā” funeral anymore. Everyone has influenced everyone else, especially as different ethnic and religious groups have inter-married. Francis himself is both Māori and Tongan, was born Catholic, and later converted to his wife’s Mormon faith. The funeral customs have blended together over time:
Once, funeral homes held bodies in ‘slumber rooms’, where family could come to visit for half an hour or so before the funeral. Now we have rooms where family members can stay over with their relatives, and many do. We provide mattresses on the floor and people bring their own bedding. On the other hand, more and more Pākehā families are taking their relatives home where they can all be together for one last time. That’s an example of tikanga influencing Pākehā culture. It’s beautiful that both cultures are influencing each other to honour their dead. (246).
The exchange of culture was exacerbated by the mass urbanisation of Māori in the 20th century. In the decades before World War II it is estimated that 90% of Māori lived in rural areas. By 1970, 80% lived in the cities.[1]
And this exchange wasn’t symmetric. Mass urbanisation came with a big loss of knowledge. Many people want to observe the old traditions - they just don’t know how. In the past, the elders were the guardians of this knowledge, but due to the massive dislocation of Māori from the homes of their culture within a few decades, there was a generation to whom it was not passed on.
That’s part of what makes this book so exciting. In an increasingly globalised world, the products of all cultures are on offer to everyone - you need only make a consumer decision as to which ones are “you”. “Customs” become mere “habits” or “hobbies”; “culture” is seen as something belonging to the past, or to secretive immigrant families yet to surrender to modernity.
This view of culture is devastating to the world’s beauty and diversity. And this book proves it fallacious. It is possible to navigate a different course through life, one which acknowledges a deeper source of meaning than Spotify, Netflix, and videogames. It does not emulate the past in empty gestures, but adjusts the customs of old to the circumstances of new. This is a position which neither denies the future nor forgets the past, but marries both in a happy present.
I watched a few episodes of The Casketeers and it wasn’t for me. But I do highly recommend Life as a Casketeer. It's a more personal, serious look at things, with a fascinating comparison of customs and cultures, driven by a lot of thought-provoking stories from Francis from his childhood and his time in business. There are less interesting bits too, but the good ultimately outshines the boring. Life as a Casketeer is a heart-warming case for love and family; by exposing the grisly business of death, it ultimately makes the case for life.
You can read this review and others on Substack.
[1] These figures from Tangata Whenua - An Illustrated History by Atholl Anderson, Judith Binney, and Aroha Harris. Bridget Williams Books, Wellington, 2015. p. 434. As cited in Urban Māori: The Second Great Migration by Bradford Haami. Published for Te Whānau of Waipareira Trust by Oratia Books, Oratia Media, Auckland, 2018. p. 9. See also Ka Whawhai Tonu Mātou by Ranginui Walker. Penguin Books NZ, Auckland, 1990, p. 196-7.
March 27, 2023
This was a great book! Just like they do on The Casketeers, Francis and Kaiora Tipene provide such thoughtful reflections on life and death in this book. I love the ways they see multiple cultural practices and technologies working together for people to help them with honoring those they have lost.
It was extra special to read the copy of the book I have because we were gifted it directly from the Tipenes when we got to meet them in Aotearoa last December when we were visiting. They are wonderful people.
It was extra special to read the copy of the book I have because we were gifted it directly from the Tipenes when we got to meet them in Aotearoa last December when we were visiting. They are wonderful people.
September 17, 2020
A gentle and easy read. Tip - check out the Maori language glossary at the end, which I didn't manage to stumble on till I'd nearly finished. (Though if you are a kiwi, you will likely manage without it.) Mostly a companion to the TV series, but honest and enlightening with regard their past and present personal and business lives. Plenty of interesting accounts and insights around death and funerals, both in human nature and in culture.
August 19, 2020
A great read and introduction to the POV of death in Maori and pacific cultures. They talk a bit about their show and life but wanted a better balance between the POV of the two owners. I feel this book was slightly rushed and skimmed the surface of what could have made it a really impactful novel.
March 26, 2020
If you like the Netflix show, you'll like this. Very beautiful.
September 26, 2022
Wow watching this show & reading the the book has been fascinating in terms of bouncing the Māori death ways to …”ours” in my case, the Jews. A corpse in Judaism is a powerful source of ritual impurity. Anyone who touches a corpse has to bathe in the mikveh and be cleansed before they can touch a Torah scroll again. We are mandated to have it in the ground within 3 days, no open casket funerals, and the chevrah kadisha are the last to see it. They are men who have taken upon themselves to perform the “ultimate mitzvah” and prepare and stay with the corpse. It’s called “ultimate” because the met (the dead guy) can never return the favor so it is truly done for the mitzvahs sake, which is some kind of triple word score for your mitzvah points.
In general there’s a sense of disgust and haste around the corpse. The corpse is a thing that once contained your loved one’s soul — it’s trash.
What struck me about the way these funeral directors did things was that they never related to the corpses as dead bodies, but as dead people. Not a repulsive “thing” but someone continuous with who you knew. They can’t answer now, but you can still speak to them, still take care of them, still touch and kiss. I can’t say if that would have helped me personally with the griefs I couldn’t handle. But it’s interesting to think about.
In general there’s a sense of disgust and haste around the corpse. The corpse is a thing that once contained your loved one’s soul — it’s trash.
What struck me about the way these funeral directors did things was that they never related to the corpses as dead bodies, but as dead people. Not a repulsive “thing” but someone continuous with who you knew. They can’t answer now, but you can still speak to them, still take care of them, still touch and kiss. I can’t say if that would have helped me personally with the griefs I couldn’t handle. But it’s interesting to think about.
February 8, 2020
A sweet, funny, and thought-provoking book. I enjoyed learning more about the Tipene family and their business, and by the end I felt like I was starting to understand what all of the Maori words mean, although I'm very glad there was a glossary at the end. With these sort of books there are always places where I wish the author had given us more or less information, but it was never boring. I also appreciated the honesty with which the authors talked about some of the challenges they have faced. My only significant criticism is that since it was written as a companion piece to the series, there are times where the book makes reference to things that happen in the series (such as the whole leaf-blower thing) without actually developing them in the book. But it a book I definitely needed to read and one that I definitely enjoyed.
May 29, 2020
A really interesting read detailing Francis and Kaiora’s early lives. It gives the reader a glimpse of what life was like in their respective childhoods. Life was simple with few luxuries. They grew up in an environment which encouraged their growth as individuals and taught them the ways of their people. Death was a time for families to come together to support each other and everyone had a role to play. Francis’s experiences prepared him well for his choice of career and Kaiora’s encouragement and support gave them the ability to grow the business to what it is today. It is a true partnership which also has it’s challenges as life is not easy with the 24x7 nature of the business and a large family to consider.
March 7, 2020
I liked it. Thank you for sharing your knowledge. I feel better informed about different funeral practices in our little country. Very emotional at times. I remember being about a third of the way through the book, finishing a paragraph just before I fell asleep and having a nasty nightmare. But there was also a lot of other things going on in there at the time too. Thank you both for sharing your story.
April 10, 2020
Having watched Casketeers from it's inception, I knew this was one book I would have to buy rather than wait for it to arrive in the public library.
It is an easy and engaging read.
It was of course interesting to read about the process of funeral directing work, but I also enjoyed reading about the cultural differences in the grief process.
If you like the show you are sure to enjoy the book!
It is an easy and engaging read.
It was of course interesting to read about the process of funeral directing work, but I also enjoyed reading about the cultural differences in the grief process.
If you like the show you are sure to enjoy the book!
January 28, 2022
Enjoyable and informative
I do enjoy the Casketeers, partly because Auckland is so familiar, but also because learning about the Maori tikanga is really interesting and Francis (or Kaiora) never appear to be arrogant about passing their knowledge or experience on, they are the sort of people I would speak te reo to, knowing if I was wrong, I would be kindly accepted and corrected. Lovely book.
I do enjoy the Casketeers, partly because Auckland is so familiar, but also because learning about the Maori tikanga is really interesting and Francis (or Kaiora) never appear to be arrogant about passing their knowledge or experience on, they are the sort of people I would speak te reo to, knowing if I was wrong, I would be kindly accepted and corrected. Lovely book.
December 4, 2022
I have a good reason to know how important it is to do things while people are alive because you never know when they may be taken.
There us never closure. There is moving on to the next stage of life. You can move forward with your own life but you will always have a gap where the person who you loved used to be.
My job is to both be there and not be there.
Maybe as part of your funeral planning, people should get a nice photo taken with their mouth and eyes shut.
There us never closure. There is moving on to the next stage of life. You can move forward with your own life but you will always have a gap where the person who you loved used to be.
My job is to both be there and not be there.
Maybe as part of your funeral planning, people should get a nice photo taken with their mouth and eyes shut.
June 15, 2020
This was a surprising book. Different to what I thought, but one I will recommend to others. It shows the people behind the popular show The Casketeers, the background and upbringing of Francis and Kaiora Tipene. It explains Maori Tangi’s and other funeral customs. It’s an open, honest informative book
August 29, 2020
Frances has provided an insightful look at life as a funeral director in Auckland, New Zealand. You learn of his early years, married life and working with and alongside whaanau. He has an enormous understanding of Maori and Pacific culture and this enables him to support the families who come to him in their grief.
Well worth reading.
Well worth reading.
September 29, 2020
Based on the TV series, "Life as a Casketeer" is a sneak look behind the scenes of a funeral parlour. It is also the story of Funeral Directors Francis Tipene and his wife Kaiora and how they got into the funeral business. Having never seen the television series, I found this a great read - definitely answers all my questions about what happens when someone dies!
January 19, 2021
Beautiful book about death, life, family and especially Maori culture.
I learnt so much about Tangihanga.
Would've liked a bit more insider stuff about the funeral industry, especially the mysteries of embalming, but I can find that elsewhere.
Worth a read if you like the TV show, or enjoy autobiographies about people with less conventional careers.
I learnt so much about Tangihanga.
Would've liked a bit more insider stuff about the funeral industry, especially the mysteries of embalming, but I can find that elsewhere.
Worth a read if you like the TV show, or enjoy autobiographies about people with less conventional careers.
May 17, 2021
Fantastic look into the life of a funeral directing family, and much more besides. It was beautiful to learn about tikanga Māori. And really thought-provoking about how to do death, dying and farewells well. All delivered with so much of the gentle, loving humour I'd come to expect from the Tipene whānau.
September 4, 2021
I'm a huge fan of The Casketeers, so reading this book was a true delight. Learning about their experiences and cultures is humbling, eye-opening. I wish there were more Kaiora's POV, though. Anyway, after reading this precious book, I'm so so so lookin' forward to the 3rd season of The Casketeers!!!
June 24, 2022
We were a bit late to the party of how good the programme The Casketeers was. We've just finished watching the latest season and I decided to read their first book. It was such an interesting read! You learn so much about them! Some parts made me laugh out loud, as I could just imagine Francis saying those things.
September 30, 2025
Short biography. As someone who is part Māori this was fascinating especially as someone who was raised by someone who hated her own heritage. Francis himself seems nice and although Fiona was arrested which kind of puts an odd tone over this now in hindsight and he seems like he really needs to tone down on the spending. It was a fun read and I learnt a lot.
June 11, 2020
I couldn't wait to read this book and finally got it from the Library. I enjoyed the TV show and especially Francis's sense of humour. Although the book was informative and funny in parts (as I imagine Francis telling his stories), I was a little bit disappointed at the end of reading it.
December 29, 2020
A lovely book that’s clearly written by the authors (I know that sounds weird but ghostwriting is common for entertainment folks, especially those who don’t have any background in writing). Their true voices shine through, and so does their love of their jobs, the tikanga and te ao Māori.
Displaying 1 - 30 of 55 reviews