This is a beautiful book — and all the credit for me even knowing anything about it goes to my friend Rebecca Kordesh. She sent me scattered passages from this book and I fell in love with the language; it’s meter, it’s cadence, and it’s surprising gentleness.
Gentleness isn’t something I usually notice when it comes to writing, and despite some of the intensely emotional moments, Ms. Brooks-Dalton writes such lush description and emotional depth without become heavy-handed.
When I read this book, I was reminded of the brilliant Station Eleven by Emily St. John Mandel, a book which surprised and enthralled me in its quietness and its brilliance. Good Morning, Midnight is similar only in that it too seeks to examine the human condition, especially in isolation, while also discovering the surprising connections between the most disparate of people — whether it be by location, age, religion, race, sex…any of it. In the end, there always seems to be the tiniest and most delicate of threads of connective tissue, and it’s absolutely beautiful.
This is not a fast book, this is not a loud book. It is quiet, it is slow; but it knows what it’s doing. It leaves you with questions while challenging you to think and meditate on some of the greatest and most mysterious philosophical questions you can, especially when you must turn those questions upon yourself.