Good Morning Midnight

Good Morning Midnight[PDF / Epub] ☉ Good Morning Midnight By Jean Rhys – Oaklandjobs.co.uk Saved rescued fished up half drowned out of the deep dark river dry clothes hair shampooed and setSet in a 1930s Paris of shabby hotel rooms seedy bars and drunken encounters Jean Rhys's semi autobiog Saved rescued fished up half drowned out of the deep dark river dry clothes hair shampooed and setSet in a s Paris of shabby hotel rooms seedy bars and drunken encounters Jean Rhys's semi autobiographical portrayal of a young woman's sexual encounters is a searingly honest exploration of loneliness and yearningTen new titles in the colourful small format portable new Pocket Penguins series. A disaffected thirty something guy abandons his wife moves to Paris and sleeps with some prostitutes His name is Henry Miller and the book is called Tropic of CancerA disaffected thirty something woman after being abandoned by her husband goes to Paris and almost sleeps with a gigolo Her name is Jean Rhys and the book is called Good Morning MidnightAs near as I can figure Miller and Rhys were in Paris at the same time Maybe they even hung out in the same cafés and bought each other rounds of Pernod Beyond that you’d be hard pressed to find two people different Miller looks at the world sees himself everywhere and shouts “Fuck yeah” Rhys peeks out her window sees herself everywhere and mutters “Meh” Then she crawls back into bed with a bottle of gin and stares at the bugs on the wallI’m not convinced Henry Miller is a good role model for the thousands of middle class boys who read him in late adolescence and are given this incredibly seductive picture of life as an endless bachelor party with wall to wall pussy and intermissions of boozy philosophical chatter It’s like learning all about girls from that disreputable uncle who used to keep back issues of Penthouse lying out in plain view and who spoke vaguely yet appealingly about Zen Buddhism You know the same uncle who was always hitting your parents up for “short term loans”Rhys then is the anti Miller She’s a gigantic but necessary buzzkill Where Miller is all about acuisition—of books women experiences—Rhys is all about loss Her fictional alter ego is slowly losing everything her looks her faith in humanity her will to live There’s no self pity; just the bitter resignation of someone who out of pure disgust has decided to drink herself to deathOkay so maybe Rhys isn’t such a great role model either I could see how her world view might have the same warping effect on a certain type of girl as Miller’s does on a certain type of boy But I still say Good Morning Midnight is a grown up book than Tropic of Cancer just as Rhys’s Paris—glum bitchy lower middle class—is less romanticized than Miller’s Brassai esue versionWisdom would probably consist in finding some middle path between these two poles of egotism but if I had to choose I guess I’d take Rhys’s route I mean I have no desire to end up a depressive alcoholic in a rented room—though that’s a definite possibility at this point—but that does seem a marginally better fate than becoming a priapic fifty year old pontificating about Nietzsche to his cronies Or I could get married move to the suburbs and avoid the whole sordid dilemma Yeah like that’s going to happen A clear eyed chronicle of desperation etched in diamond hard prose It amazes me how any book so filled with despair could be so completely free of self pity and how any book consisting entirely of an inward monologue could contain such vivid realistic details and make Paris in the '30's come alive After the first week I made up my mind to kill myself the usual whiff of chloroform Next week or next month or next year I’ll kill myself These are words spoken with truth and clarity They’re simple and honest And not for a single moment in the novel did I doubt them not for a single moment did I conceive that there could be an alternative ending I’m not going to sugar coat it for you this isn’t a nice novel There is very little in the way of redemptive themes and the motif of freedom is only fully achieved through the ultimate rejection of human happiness and interpersonal relationships Sasha Jensen is on a downward spiral of self destruction She’s been hurt to the point of no return This isn’t a simple case of a wound that time can heal; it is a wound so deep that it will always remain open And the narrative doesn’t reveal this straight away Firstly we see a glimpse of Sasha and begin to realise the maladaptive nature of her behaviour She doesn’t physically self harm but on an emotional level she is destroying her soul So in a sense her behaviour can easily be defined as self destructive She is drinking copious amounts of alcohol to numb the pain that is life; she has been shit on and she just couldn’t pick herself up Some people are stronger than others and initially I found myself uestioning Sasha’s vulnerability However as the novel progressed it does become clear how such a situation can be born “And when I say afraid that’s just a word I use What I really mean is I hate them I hate their voices I hate their eyes I hate the way they laughI hate the whole bloody business It’s cruel it’s idiotic it’s unspeakably horrible I never had the guts to kill myself or I’d have got out of it a long time ago So much the worse for me Let’s leave it at that”She is at a point where she sees no light in the hearts of men She is a misanthrope a hater of mankind For her there is nothing left to love for She’s lost it all She tries to relive the dream of her youth but she doesn’t alter her behaviour; she carries on in her woe and it is her end It’s a miserable book full of darkness and despair and at the centre of it is a character not unlike people in real life Sasha is the woman who has had her heart broken; she is the woman who loved and lost she is the loner And in these pages is an evocative tale of human suffering which is the fate that befalls many of us Through her relationship with men the novel explores typical gender roles At times they are reversed Typically speaking literary representations of relationships tend to follow gender stereotyped behaviours I don’t need to point them out but in this they are subverted And this does give Sasha some freedom though she doesn’t fully explore it she is far to damaged The novel also openly discusses homosexuality in men and women which is ridiculously ahead of its time The Victorians often betrayed such things but it was cryptic and repressed this is blatant However these modern themes were not enough to rejuvenate one so broken It seems appropriate to end with the poem for which this novel is named It’s worth reading it alongside the novel Poem 425 by Emily Dickenson Good Morning—Midnight—I'm coming Home—Day—got tired of Me—How could I—of Him?Sunshine was a sweet place—I liked to stay—But Morn—didn't want me—now—So—Goodnight—DayI can look—can't I—When the East is Red?The Hills—have a way—then—That puts the Heart—abroad—You—are not so fair—Midnight—I chose—Day—But—please take a little Girl—He turned away Electric stream of consciousness novel whose action largely takes place in the margins Rhys is an extraordinary writer of inner state and she finds a surprising amount of observational humor in the struggles of her narrator Sophia Jansen who has returned to Paris years after a tragedy This is one of the great novels of alcoholism that I have read as Jansen finds both release and embarrassment in her mash together of days Characters mainly men flit in and out of this book in a daze and though the cinema plays a major part in the action there is freuent slippage into the past Somehow though the story is told in bits we assemble a life Rhys has given us the best kind of unreliable narrator here one who is unreliable even to herself and though there's not much in terms of scene work to latch onto the novel is very fast I wish it had done well and that she had continued in this vein after the novel failed to do well Rhys dropped out of the public eye for 20 years because in its focus on sexuality and the mind this should have stood as a work of modernism Reminiscent of Alfred Hayes who I love 45 rating I’m not home now I’ll write a review tomorrow Great buddy read with VioletUPDATEThis is my 3rd book within a couple of months by Jean Rhys so one can assume correct that I think Rhys was a phenomenal writer This is the bleakest of the 3 novelsbut it’s possibly my favoritemuch to reflect onmany pages ‘to pause’ set the book down to examine the story itself and our own lives Since I’m having discussions with Violet through buddy reading I don’t feel compelled to make this a lengthy review But Violet got me going on BAD HAIR DAYS I couldn’t NOT see the ‘word’ hair again with any neutrality no matter what context after Violet planted the ‘hair seed’Two things stood out for me rather uickly besides hair feelings of unworthiness despair loneliness pain authentic truth and multitude of blows I KNOW isn’t that enough?WAS1 The ongoing usage of the way Rhys repeated words back back back Sick sick sick Chewing chewing chewing Chlorophyll chlorophyll chlorophyll Yes yes yesEtc Rhys’ triple words throughout only intensified the emotions 2 CRYINGlots of crying in public and or alone The type of crying where one tries hard to suppress but those tears come anyway“I am talking away uite calmly and sedately when there it is again — tears in my eyes tears rolling down my face Saved rescued but not uite so good as new”“I’m so sorry I’m such a fool” “I don’t know what’s the matter with me” “Oh Madame oh MadameDelmar says why do you cry?”“I’m such a fool Please don’t take any notice of me Just don’t take any notice and I’ll be all right”“But cry le peintre says Cry if you want to Why shouldn’t you cry? You’re with friends” “If I could have a drink”Sasha often wanted to cry She said“That is the only advantage women have over men at least they can cry”There was another section in this book that I did a lot of thinking about Sasha was only 25 years old single she saw herself too thin dirty and haggard Her clothes were shabby her shoes were worn out she had circles under her eyes and her hair was straight and lanky She was so incredibly critical of herself Sasha DID experience suffering from loss and tragedyHer life wasn’t the life she bargained forBut SASHA WAS ONLY IN HER 20’s I put my book down to think about how life was for me when in my 20’s They ‘were’ some of my hardest yearsI ran away for a couple of years Paris and London too’running’ is the wordThere were days I ate large amounts of sugar instead of real food the way Sasha drank So I wanted to have a chat with Sashaand all young people hurting loss without much than a dime to their nameComfort themand tell themTHAT LIFE COULD GET BETTERI know people who killed themselves in their 20’s even younger heartbreakingI just wanted to tell Sasha to not give into the eternity of the downhill grade Of coarse I felt bad for Sasha laughed a few times at funny storiesbut I loved this woman The way she was and the way she wasn’tThanks Violet for being my reading buddy Good Morning Midnight 1939 sees Englishwoman Sasha Jansen come to Paris on borrowed money to recapture the happiness and exorcise the pain of her previous life there The first person narrative is awash with cafe's hotel rooms drinking crying sleeping self pity hotel rooms crying falling for men one minute hating them the next being broke feeling miserable You get the picture she's a wreak Told with a spare prose style this reads as a work of fiction but also redeems Jean Rhys's own consciousness throughout in her life she found the simplest practicalities beyond her and once said I have only ever written about myself It's difficult not to see Sasha as a mere self portrait but would be unfair to just see Good Morning Midnight as just a disguised memoir because it isn't Realistic drab and somewhat terrifying it's a small novel in its own brief and perfect right depicting the emotional and sensitive nature of trying to find stability again It could have been depressing but the overall tone is just about right giving a good balance of hopefulness and despairI had some thoughts before hand this would turn out to have a strong feminist viewpoint and it does to some extent only her women are ore helpless and sad than angry or militant there is no poisoned chalice towards men with her rant's feeling aimed internally Sasha does have a saving grace though that being humour her willingness to see the comedy even absurdity in the most bitter memories and humiliating encounters and there would be many of themThe way Rhys goes about describing Paris is uite sinister moving from one cheap hotel on dead end street that backs out onto a dingy ally to another Sasha's encounters are told with a feeling where you never know how things will end up any unstable predicament likely to happen at any given moment I felt much pity for Sasha after all she goes through and this was the defining turning point for me when it comes to female protagonists I want of them like Sasha Emily Dickinson poem 382 “Good Morning—Midnight—I'm coming Home—Day—got tired of Me—How could I—of Him?Sunshine was a sweet place—I liked to stay—But Morn—didn't want me—now—So—Goodnight—DayI can look—can't I—When the East is Red?The Hills—have a way—then—That puts the Heart—abroad—You—are not so fair—Midnight—I chose—Day—But—please take a little Girl—He turned away” The desperation of having sunk so low to a bottomless pit where disaffection has taken over the zest for life is at the background of the syncopated rhythm of this non story as it is in Emily Dickinson’s poem which gives title to this confessional novella Was Jean Rhys an eccentric woman like Dickinson; a social outcast unable to accept her place in the corseted roles attached to their gender at the time?Or was she another victim of straddling two worlds the inner and the outer two cultures two expectations hers and the other that society nursed on her since her birth?When depression is no longer a novelty but the dominant state in which a person operates for long periods of time there is no room for self pity or compassion Sasha the protagonist of this stream of consciousness monologue is a castaway woman Abandoned by her lover completely destitute and in a permanent state of intoxication she slowly drinks herself away to utter obliteration Present past and uncalled memories knit a downward spiral into the recondite corners of Sasha’s subconscious that waxes and wanes into events happening in real time A succession of casual encounters with assorted males combined with all kind of cocktails leads the reader into the depths of the resigned misery that subjugates the narrator Rhys’ tone gradually acuires the darkness that lies in wait ready to ambush pushing Sasha and the reader closer to the edge of the precipice that threatens to engulf everything all thought all hope but also the unfathomable sadness that corrodes from withinRhys’ intimate meditations on the “improbable truths” and hypocrisies of life bring about sharp observations on the dynamics among classes and the correlation between physical spaces and social decline towards the complete annulation of the self Paris the city of light goes out modestly giving way to shabby hotel rooms and superficial descriptions of dead empty streets where soulless people roam without directionSasha’s final success relays in her bold unafraid glance into the crudeness of her reality and in the pluck she gathers from scratch to defy life which is about to defeat her In the silent hollowness of her impersonal room she promises herself that she’ll never allow anybody to look down on her Relief might never come but she’ll fight her own demons holding her head up high And only for that reason she has my total respect Today I must be careful today I have left my armour at home Little by little everything turns to break her How she suffers in isolation and feels conjoined and yet detached with all that is damned and discarded and how this leads to an intensification of the loneliness she feels Defenseless willing to run away from this and everything every moment of living chased and cursed by unkindness condescension and mockery As if everyone who is a part of this ruthless world has merged into that collective derisive laughter that is directed towards her and rings in her ears every time and everywhere she goes I have no pride – no pride no name no face No country I don’t belong anywhere Too sad too sad Floating from one fragment to the other with nothing to stay on she sheds them all off only to reveal that dry crust of loneliness There no sense of deceptiveness about Sasha Jensen no delusion with a kind of living which keeps back some frightful disturbance roaring underneath Everything has been served on the surface sparsely cut to pieces; the sadness the brokenness the joylessness of life In the middle of the night you wake up You start to cry What’s happening to me? Oh my life oh my youth It is not just the loneliness it’s the inability to pull oneself out of it of making nothing out of her youth of pouring out her existence into the vapidness of the Parisian cafes seedy hotel rooms Of being the failed participant of her own life Her life which is splattered on those forgetful streets and bars where everyone is cruel everyone disapproves She is the witness of her dissolution And how hard she tries to sink in her invisibility the muteness of her self But think how hard I try and how seldom I dare Think and have a bit of pity That is if you ever think you apes which I doubt Planning it all out Eating A movie Eating again One drink A long walk to the hotel Bed Luminal Sleep Just sleep no dreams She tries to grab some silly hope some plan as if the fulfillment of it would mean something would change something; a hotel room with a bath or a dress at the store A new hat a new dress new hair a good meal; a reinvention that would not have the pieces of the past sticking on her Something that would mean a symbolic relief from the past the present the sadness and the loneliness Its all right Tomorrow I will be pretty again I’ll be happy again tomorrow tomorrow I want one thing and one thing only to be left alone No pawings no prying – leave me alone This strong desire for isolation also comes from a hysterical nervousness and dread of unknown people and places their hostility towards a certain kind of conspicuousness that only comes from a certain degree of wretchedness This hostility that slits open her wounds and makes her crumble into the dampness of tears and pain You want to know what I am afraid of? All right I’ll tell youI’m afraid of men yes I’m very much afraid of men And I’m even afraid of womenWhat is it one looks for in others when one is that lonely? How differently and acutely observant and intuitive does that make a person? And how distrustful She knows there is something in her that makes them see through her Is it the sadness the compliance the vulnerability? It makes them so hateful so pitiless But there is no self pity in Sasha Jensen but a terrible ache a yearning inside It is something that can never be filled for its moment of birth is already over Saved rescued fished up half drowned out of the deep dark river dry clothes hair shampooed and set Nobody would know I had ever been in it Except of course that there always remains something Yes there always remains somethingNever mind here I am sane and dry with my place to hide in What do I want?I'm a bit of an automaton but sane surely dry cold and sane Now I have forgotten about dark streets dark rivers the pain the struggle and the drowningMind you I'm not talking about the struggle when you are strong and a good swimmer and there are willing and eager friends on the bank waiting to pull you out at the first sign of distress I mean the real thing You jump in with no willing and eager friends around and when you sink you sink to the accompaniment of loud laughter What happens to a woman when her self esteem becomes entirely dependent on mirrors and men Everything about Sasha our narrator has seen better days including her fur coat which she wears as a kind of memory mantra of better days There's a febrile pressing authenticity about the way Rhys writes of this sualid repetitive purgatorial world You can feel the sualor and fatality of Sasha's downward spiral on your skin Sasha herself seems to have little psychological insight betokened by the constant tears she sheds without uite knowing where they come from As a reader you find yourself doubling up as psychoanalyst There's a fabulous touch at the end when Rhys inverts and creates a horror show of Molly Bloom's triumphant yes to life at the end of her monologue in Ulysses I preferred this to the formalised Wide Sargasso Sea This felt like an author baring her soul Apparently it sunk without trace when published and Rhys as a result became a recluse for the rest of her life It was a buddy read with Elyse and sparked a great dialogue about our relationships with men and mirrors 4 stars This is one of Rhys’s earlier works and is popularly described as modernist; its title comes from an Emily Dickinson poem;Good morning MidnightI'm coming homeDay got tired of me –How could I of him?Sunshine was a sweet placeI liked to stay –But Morn didn't want me – now –So good night DayIt is the story of Sasha Jensen who in her mid age goes back to the haunts of her youth in Paris She has been living in London on a small inherited income trying to drink herself to death Having miserably failed at this she goes to Paris for holiday and reminiscence about her feckless ex husband dead child and lost youth Rhys combines flashbacks and the present in a seamless way The descriptions of the seedy hotel and its denizens are brilliantly drawn as are the gigolos who mistake Sasha for a wealthy womanThe novel is about loneliness; but of course we are all alone even surrounded by people and Rhys knew that However there is here also a sense of the injustice society does to women and Sasha’s experiences illustrate this Its powerful stuff and I got a sense of the anger that one finds in later feminist writers like Marilyn French Most of all though there is a “whiff of existentialism” about this novel It reminded me of “Nausea” by Sartre and there is a strong sense of alienation running through it I’m making this sound very depressing and of course it isn’t a light comedy but there is no wallowing in self pity It is though a masterly study of the human condition and Rhys is a sharp and perceptive observer of relationships between men and women and is very good at setting mood Her everyday descriptions are beautifully observed This was my first Rhys I know I need to read and it’s a good place to start

Good Morning Midnight PDF ✓ Good Morning  PDF or
  • Paperback
  • 176 pages
  • Good Morning Midnight
  • Jean Rhys
  • 15 October 2014
  • 9780241261408