Howdy. So, I finished Green’s Loving the other day; and it was brilliant. Green’s style becomes easier and easier the more you read and after a certain point you no longer notice that it is a little unusual. The story also becomes more gripping as you read on. Confusions over a waterglass and a sapphire ring shape the plot points, as does the event of a mysterious visitor with a suspect lisp. The Second World War further infringes on the characters’ minds and actions as the story progresses and you get a genuine sense of their concerns and how it affects their day-to-day. The title also becomes more and more appropriate, as relationships develop and change and feelings are wordlessly exposed. Charley Raunce and Edith become more central to the plot and have more and more scenes to themselves. From the standpoint of their relationship, other relationships are questioned and examined, if indirectly, and the dynamics of the wider group of characters starts to form more clearly in the reader’s mind.
The ending however is something that made me stop and think. Green actually ends with the words, “and lived happily ever after.” After all that modern, beautiful, tragic literature, there is a fairy tale ending. I for one was a little suspect and don’t quite believe it; but of course I won’t give anything away, you’ll have to read it for yourself. Given that it’s only 203 pages, that shouldn’t be too much of a feat.
After Loving I powered through Jean Rhys’ Good Morning, Midnight, a slim volume of only 156 pages in print that is not small. As a warning I must say that it is a rather miserable little book; but then again, if you know anything about Jean Rhys, that is not much of a surprise. The story follows a few days in the life of Sophia Jansen in Paris in the 1930s. She is in a post-trauma state of mind – i.e. she is mentally down and out. She wonders aimlessly around the city, stopping in cafes and bars for drinks and her meals. She comes across strange and mysterious characters, mostly men, and engages with them in strange, lonely exchanges. Her recent history, and thus the cause of her misery, comes out as the book goes on and we learn the details that brought her to this point, both geographically and mentally.
Rhys’ style is easy and at the same time not easy. It is conversational but brutally honest as Sophia describes events and feelings. It is poignant and sad, and one can easily see how Sophia has reached this point. The ending is a little vague, simply a scene after another with no more after that. It is unclear exactly what happens or why it happens, thus one is left with a strange unfinished feeling once the book is ended. Surely there should be more? Sophia does not appear to reach any conclusions or resolve anything within herself or with her situation. She only decides to no longer “despise” human beings.
Ultimately, Good Morning, Midnight is a portrait of a lost soul, an exploration of loneliness and despair, of loss and of misery. As quoted before the title page, it is named after an Emily Dickinson poem of the same name. In the poem the speaker addresses Midnight and says goodbye to Day. In a similar fashion, Sophia Jansen gives up on the happiness and light of Day and resigns herself to the misery and darkness of Midnight.
I have now begun The Good Soldier by Ford Madox Ford. So far, so sad; but enjoyable and well written, though I am yet to make a judgment on the character and personality of the narrator. That is to say, I know who he is, but I am not yet sure what I think of him. We shall see.
Happy reading!
Batgirl.xx.
