Weepers

A group of professional mourners are transfixed by a charismatic young colleague in this captivating burlesque from Mendelsund (The Delivery). Narrated by Ed, a self-styled “cowboy poet,” the story follows his fellow members of Local 302, a union of “weepers” hired to cry for the dead in their declining Southwestern town and its neighboring communities. The ragtag group’s constituents play to type; among them are Chantal, the “femme fatale” with smeared mascara; Dill, the “best pal”; Johnny, the “soldier”; and exotic “outsiders” the Nguyens. But these weepers are in a rut, their tears mechanical and their sadness performative until a new member, the Kid, infuses their work with an almost mystical force. The Kid speaks little and does not cry himself, but every service he attends erupts into sobs. Ed grows obsessed with solving the twin riddles of the Kid’s powerful presence and his mysterious notebook, which is filled with the names of every deceased person he’s mourned, including some whose names were entered suspiciously before their deaths. Mendelsund suffuses his meditation on performative grief with inspired stylistic flourishes, evoking the cadences of Donald Antrim and the baroque drama of Flannery O’Connor. As the story builds toward a violent showdown between the mourners and the town, the reader will be entranced by its surreal language and bizarre logic. This is astonishing. Agent: Chris Parris-Lamb, Gernert Co. (June)