“Once somebody is dead, the world reveals all the things they might have enjoyed if they weren’t,” Elizabeth McCracken writes in her funny, perceptive novel “The Hero of This Book.”

Mccracken chronicles a trip the unnamed narrator took to London in 2019, the year after her mother died. The narrator, who has much in common with Mccracken, visits tourist attractions, walks around the city and is frequently joined by a second narrative presence, who Mccracken calls “the author,” who comments on the story. Both reminisce about her remarkable mother, who loved London, from its wheelchair-accessible black cabs to its abundant theater offerings.

As Mccracken embarks on this story, she interrogates the narrator: “Perhaps you fear writing a memoir, reasonably.” So, she advises, “Invent a single man and call your book a novel.”

The narrator engages in this dance throughout the book, insisting, “I am not a memoirist” and that her mother would hate “my opinion about her experience.” She squirms away from the story and yet is compelled to tell it.

Throughout the book, Mccracken shares observations about writing, yet she asserts that her wisdom, if assembled, could only fill a “pamphlet.”

The narrator has an endearing way of insisting she knows nothing and then dropping one stellar insight after another. As she walks around London, she accuses this book of having “not much of a plot.”

But it actually follows a plot the bereaved know well. Researchers have documented how grieving people often engage in searching behavior as their brains struggle to integrate loss. A mourning brain seems to ask: Where did my person go?

Memories play in loops and people can even hallucinate seeing their loved one. This doesn’t happen to the narrator, but her mother appears as an overlay to every experience.

She walks around seeking and feeling, and observes about writing, “Unlike some pursuits, if you hurt yourself, it’s a sign that you’re doing it right.”

DETAILS

“The Hero of This Book” by Elizabeth McCracken; Ecco (192 pages, $26.99)