The dreams of youth and the aspirations for the future, once vibrant, now echo as distant, unattainable whispers in Sasha's attempt to relive them—a futile pursuit, as they can never be resurrected. Her life which is splattered on those forgetful streets, and bars where everyone is cruel, everyone disapproves. Good Morning, Midnight is an epitaph of all the people who loved and lost and almost lost themselves in their pain. I went on a tour there on my 24th birthday, which fell by mad luck on the day off at the end of my training week when I worked at sea). It's difficult not to see Sasha as a mere self-portrait, but would be unfair to see Good Morning Midnight just as a disguised memoir, because it isn't.

Sasha is all despondent lovers who are not hiding from their grief, but embracing it and seeing the world from it, no matter how hard it is.The way Rhys goes about describing Paris is quite sinister, moving from one cheap hotel on dead-end street that backs out onto a dingy ally, to another.

My life, which seems so simple and monotonous, is really a complicated affair of cafés where they like me and cafés where they don’t, streets that are friendly, streets that aren’t, rooms where I might be happy, rooms where I shall never be, looking-glasses I look nice in, looking-glasses I don’t, dresses that will be lucky, dresses that won’t, and so on.Rating the book is equally difficult, because there is not one thing about it I could say I liked, but I can recognize the emotional investment Rhys has made in her character. The instances where an important truth was revealed were often slow in coming, or slower than I expected, and there were several, several pages of self-loathing to wade through before they were revealed.

Sasha has to make amends with the fact it is over, and that the heart was given in the wrong place, to the wrong person.I am talking away, quite calmly and sedately, when there it is again — tears in my eyes, tears rolling down my face. Thankfully, Sasha remembered a man she once went out with who lived in Brussels, so she borrowed money from him (enduring an uncomfortable kiss from him as a result).

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. She meets another man, at a decisive moment knows that she has fallen in love and will love him forever, and for a few weeks perhaps things go well .Wisdom 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.