This novel offers a banquet for the discerning critic. Alternating chapters are voiced by Nixon himself, while those from an all-knowing perspective cleverly mimic or poke fun at an array of cultural styles, from the vibrant narratives of Time magazine—some of which are artfully arranged as poetry—to creative riffs on beloved films and the colorful vernacular of newspapers. The narrative unfolds in four segments, each depicting the tense forty-eight hours before the executions. These sections mirror each other with seven chapters apiece, bookended by a Prologue and an Epilogue, with the dramatic flair of three operatic "Intermezzo" sections providing theatrical interludes.

The "Intermezzos" harken back to the novel's theatrical roots. In one, Eisenhower delivers an aria, his peculiar way of mangling words painting a vivid picture of his vision of the looming conflict with the enigmatic Phantom. The second serves as a recitative where Pris (Ethel) passionately pleads with Pres (Eisenhower) for mercy, invoking legal, moral, and humane arguments. Finally, in the "Last Act Sing Sing Opera," Julius and Ethel stand united, their love and dignity shining defiantly even as their hopes for reprieve fade into the shadows.

With its diverse styles and expansive ambition, The Public Burning evokes memories of other daring metafictional works of the era: John Gardner's intricate The Sunlight Dialogues, the sprawling narrative of Thomas Pynchon's Gravity's Rainbow, and the exceptional creations of John Earth and John Fowles. Despite any contention surrounding its themes and subject matter, it stands as a bold, distinctly original, and striking piece of literature.

More expansive in its ambition and more overtly political than any of his previous works except for "The Cat in the Hat for President," The Public Burning stands as Coover's most audacious novel. While The Origin of the Brunists (1966) weaves an epistemological tale about the birth of religious mania and The Universal Baseball Association (1968) spins a narrative about the essence of knowledge itself, The Public Burning delves into the mythical fabric of political history. Tiger Miller of the Brunists, in a moment of deceptive foresight, declared while dispersing misleading narratives early in the Brunists' rise, "Such are history's documents." This sentiment could well serve as a prelude to The Public Burning, where Coover constructs his most overtly political narrative around the notion that political history is, in essence, a collection of sanctioned fictions crafted by those in power to justify their ascendance.

As its title suggests, The Public Burning grapples with the sacrifices that society deems vital for its continuity. Coover's persistent reference to Arthur Miller's play The Crucible, which captivated audiences on Broadway in 1953 and piqued the interest of the novel's Richard Nixon, further underscores themes of cultural uniformity and the creation of scapegoats. The novel questions the culpability of Ethel and Julius Rosenberg, sacrificed on the altar of cultural invulnerability. Their accusers are portrayed as dubious and unreliable. One such figure, Harry Gold, is dismissed by Nixon as unstable — "played these weird baseball games with decks of cards" — a complex irony considering Nixon’s lack of understanding for the imaginative cravings of Coover's own Henry Waugh. Coover also questions the significance of the secrets allegedly shared by the Rosenbergs with the Soviets. Nobel Laureate Harold Urey famously testified that "anyone could figure out how to build the Bomb," and it is insinuated that Ethel's brother had access to information already within enemy reach. Coover contends that the Rosenbergs' execution serves the needs of public spectacle; their guilt or innocence is almost a side note.

The reference to The Crucible, along with chapters linking films like House...