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When A Happy Thing Falls: Life, Death, and Letting Go in The Good Cemetery Guide

Updated: Feb 18

Title: The Good Cemetery Guide

Publisher: Karavan Press

ISBN & Price: 979-8244202335, $18.50

The Good Cemetery Guide

The Good Cemetery Guide by Consuelo Roland is a fictional novel that follows Anthony Loxton, the son of a mortician, through childhood and into adulthood as he navigates the grim and morbid world of his inheritance as an undertaker. From a young age, Anthony has been privy to the realm of the deceased, which to him feels less strange than it does normal. At nineteen, after his father dies and he inherits the family’s run-down, debt-ridden funeral parlor, he begins to realize that embalming may not be his cup of tea. The novel weaves in and out of reality, following Anthony’s colorful and complex imagination, taking readers on a journey through the macabre world of death alongside the peculiarities of the living.


The novel opens with the quote from Rainer Maria Rilke, “And we, who have always thought of joy / As rising, would feel the emotion / That almost amazes us / When a happy thing falls.” This sets a melancholic tone for the novel, creating a juxtaposition between life and death, darkness and light, expectation versus reality.


The narrative moves back and forth between Anthony’s younger and older selves. As a child, his imagination runs rampant—he imagines his parents as ghosts or hallucinations passing through his life, finds fortresses inside the funeral home coffins, and talks to an imaginary friend called Tony, who seems to exist as his alter ego. As an adult, this imaginative quality stays with him—he talks to his corpse clients, continues his dialogue with Tony, collects keepsakes of the dead, and embraces the title of the “bone collector.” He separates his work from his personal life, refusing to tell the women he’s involved with about his status as an undertaker.


His worlds collide, however, when one of his lovers arrives dead at the funeral home. This conundrum forces him to juggle his own humanity with his work ethic, as his lover’s family insists on burial while he knows she wanted to be cremated. He takes the matter into his own hands, creating a fake burial and letting Lily’s ashes float free in a black balloon. The balloon becomes symbolic of the release of his expectations as an undertaker and the beginning of his life removed from the world of the dead.


After Lily’s death, Anthony’s life begins to rewrite itself. He enters a new relationship with Lily’s friend, purchases a cemetery, and faces his mother’s developing dementia. He begins to “clean up his life,” dedicating time to his music, trying yoga at a Buddhist center, organizing his space, and befriending a stray cat. These changes reflect his desire to step away from the confines of his inheritance as an undertaker and carve out a life of his own.

The culmination of this transformation comes when a fire burns down the funeral home, leaving Anthony no choice but to step out of his father’s shadow. In the closing chapters, a quote reads: “There was a time when the son would have sunk his father in that deep blue ocean with ballast tied to his ankles, and he was certain his father would not have struggled. Now he puts his hand out and gently pushes him, letting him drift away on the tides. Mercy” (277), marking Anthony’s emotional release from the resentment toward his father.


Consuelo’s writing is vivid and almost Dali-like, evoking surreal, dreamlike images that blur the line between reality and imagination. Multiple symbols recur throughout the novel: the black balloon containing Lily’s ashes, representing release; the coffins young Anthony sleeps in, offering comfort; the Mexican puppet, providing companionship; the fire, embodying both destruction and rebirth; and the ever-present ocean, symbolizing mercy.

A central theme of the novel is death as the great equalizer, as seen in the quote, “There’s no difference between a poor man and a rich man, he’s just a dead man” (76). Other prominent ideas include the macabre versus the mundane, as Anthony navigates the fine line between ordinary life and the world of death; identity versus inheritance; escapism through imagination and music; and a commentary on human nature and social norms, highlighted in the observation, “The human race is fickle and unworthy” (61), which emphasizes Anthony’s preference for the dead over the living. The writing also frequently positions art against science in a peculiar, investigative way.


The Good Cemetery Guide offers a unique look into a world that most of us shy away from, turn our eyes from, or avoid at all costs. Through strong symbolism and surreal imagery, it explores the boundary between the living and the dead, questioning how different we truly are when we all eventually end up on the mortician’s table. Consuelo contrasts Anthony’s humanity with the stiffness of his clients to examine human nature and the choices we face, sometimes choices that feel less like options and more like predetermined destinies, while also challenging the notion that we must follow in our parents’ footsteps. Anthony’s adventures are humorous, touching, and relatable; despite the unusual nature of his career, readers recognize themselves in his quest for identity and human connection.


Review by Britain Powers.




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