Thomas Lynch writes catchy, well-tuned sentences. He's in company with the poet Hayden Carruth and personal essayist Phillip Lapote. Reading this book in 2000, I was a little non-plussed by Lynch's Catholicism and belief in God, however, religious views that he kept out of his first book of essays, "The Undertaking." If these bromidic conventional religious views were there in his first book, they weren't at all noticeable. Here, they are unavoidable, and they weaken his essays if only because his views are merely conventional. They or their expression in these essays are the only aspect that mars his otherwise good sense and his fine prose style.
The most spirited of these essays is "Y2 Cat," an essay about his hatred of a certain cat. His anger, ire and even his rage is amusing. His voice and timing make it impossible for him to be misunderstood. The cat, you see, is a leftover remnant of his relationship to his ex-wife. In another essay named "Reno," Thomas Lynch writes about poetry and the use of words, the respect he has for words and metaphors such that what he writes demonstrates he is a poet after all while also showing the common denominators between being a poet and being a funeral director.
This reader marvels how the author who daily works with death nonetheless maintains a strong, down home sense of humor.