The spectre of death hangs over Jean Rhys’ Good Morning, Midnight, colouring every moment of Sasha Jansen’s existence. And that’s an important word, for Sasha doesn’t live, she merely exists. The trauma that defined her also destroyed her; all that remains is an empty shell, and an inescapable sense of alienation from the world and all its inhabitants.
She decides that the best course of action is to drink herself to death, but in truth she doesn’t truly commit to this plan; instead, she floats around Paris like a ghost, observing everything but never really taking anything in. She’s constantly occupied with her own thoughts, unable to look beyond her worries and neuroses, and perpetually concerned about how others perceive her despite the indifference that informs almost all of her actions.
The novel is not entirely without hope. Glimmers of light break through the darkness, with one character memorably trying to convince Sasha of the value of living:
"I look at life like this: If someone had come to me and asked me if I wished to be born I think I should have answered No. I'm sure I should have answered No. But no one asked me. I am here not through my will. Most things that happen to me - they are not my will either. And so that's what I say to myself all the time: "You didn't ask to be born, you didn't make the world as it is, you didn't make yourself as you are. Why torment yourself? Why not take life just as it comes? You have the right to; you are not one of the guilty ones." When you aren't rich or strong or powerful, you are not a guilty one. And you have the right to take life just as it comes and to be as happy as you can."
But this is a rare burst of positivity. Good Morning, Midnight asks us to immerse ourselves in Sasha’s sorrows and offers little in the way of optimism. Yet Rhys’ evocative language ensures that the downbeat tone is never overwhelming. The author describes Sasha’s world with an obsessive attention to detail, capturing the sights and sounds and smells of her Paris so vividly that the reader is transported there - making Sasha's plight all the more tangible. It’s a powerful novel, all the more impactful for its unwillingness to offer hope where there is none. It is true and honest in the way all great literature is, even if its truths are ultimately unpalatable.