Specify Books To Good Morning, Midnight
| Original Title: | Good Morning, Midnight |
| ISBN: | 0393357805 (ISBN13: 9780393357806) |
| Characters: | Sasha Jensen, Enno, Delmar |
| Setting: | Paris(France) |
Jean Rhys
Paperback | Pages: 208 pages Rating: 3.89 | 6646 Users | 625 Reviews
Point Based On Books Good Morning, Midnight
| Title | : | Good Morning, Midnight |
| Author | : | Jean Rhys |
| Book Format | : | Paperback |
| Book Edition | : | First Edition |
| Pages | : | Pages: 208 pages |
| Published | : | March 17th 2020 by W. W. Norton Company (first published 1939) |
| Categories | : | Fiction. Classics. Cultural. France |
Narrative During Books Good Morning, Midnight
The last of the four novels Jean Rhys wrote in interwar Paris, Good Morning, Midnight is the culmination of a searing literary arc, which established Rhys as an astute observer of human tragedy. Her everywoman heroine, Sasha, must confront the loves— and losses— of her past in this mesmerizing and formally daring psychological portrait.Rating Based On Books Good Morning, Midnight
Ratings: 3.89 From 6646 Users | 625 ReviewsWrite Up Based On Books Good Morning, Midnight
Sasha Jensen is so sad. So so so sad.I stumbled through this until I realized the words tumbled on the pages were quite like free associating, just writing what you think as you think it, except these were the words of poor old Sasha Jensen who been there and done that so many ways - happily - and now revisiting as an older version of herself, now not armed with the jocular indifference of youth. . .she was lost. In all the places she knew so well, she was uncovered, unprepared and astonished atI had the bright idea of drinking myself to death...I've had enough of these streets that sweat a cold, yellow slime, of hostile people, of crying myself to sleep every night, enough of thinking, enough of remembering. Now whiskey, rum, gin, sherry, vermouth, wine...Drink,drink,drink...As soon as I sober up I start again. I have to force it down sometimes...But nothing. I must be solid as an oak. Except when I cry.What to say about this book? What to say about Jean Rhys?Could she have had a
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
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 squalid repetitive purgatorial world. You can feel the squalor and fatality of Sasha's downward spiral on your skin. Sasha herself seems to have little psychological insight - betokened by the
IntroductionPublisher's Note in the 1967 André Deutsch edition--Good Morning, Midnight
Well this was depressing. Not that it bothered me particularly, because we all know that I get drawn to depressing/tragic books like a moth to a flame (to use an overused expression).This follows the narrator Sofia as she returns to Paris to try and live a solitary existence, despite the personal tragedy she has undergone previously that ties her to the city itself. I won't go into what happened to her, as this is for the reader to slowly find out. However, I will say that I think her
Zindagi tujh se har ek saans pai samjhauta karun,Shaukh jeene ka hai mujhe,Par itna toh nahi...O Life! To compromise with you at every breath that I take,I do have a wish to live,But not the strength to compromise.And could I say I understand her loneliness. That I sense it every time she pulls back into herself. She narrates her experiences, the stories that have shattered her. I listen to her silence. Watch her think over things beyond their worth. Sit beside her and wait for a tomorrow, a
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