Good Morning, Midnight by Jean Rhys

Good Morning, Midnight is the disjointed story of a woman drinking too much in Paris.  We can’t say, and she probably can’t either, whether the misery in her life has caused the drinking or the other way around.  She seems to have been always lost, now found only through the alcohol.  It’s a lovingly accurate portrait of a disintegrating alcoholic, but I have trouble with stories written in this vague literary style.  The anal-compulsive in me likes to understand exactly what is happening now, what happened then, and in what order and why.  But then, life isn’t really like that, is it? It’s also hard to like the main character–not hard to sympathize, but hard to like. She’s a bundle of unhappy memories and fears with no redeeming hope or joy. This is intentional, no doubt, but it makes for a sad book.

Leave a Reply