Good Morning, Midnight

The concept of parenting haunts both Augie and Sully. Augie acknowledges his failures as a parent early in the narrative, recalling the child he never bothered to meet and admitting that he has no idea how to care for Iris beyond feeding her and allowing her to follow him on his walks. Deep relationships and responsibility are something Augie has avoided broadly, but the particular vulnerability and dependency of children initially leads Augie to resent Iris’s presence at the observatory. Augie has spent a lifetime avoiding the role of a father. He knows he impregnated Jean in New Mexico, and he fled when she refused an abortion. He seems to have long suppressed any feelings of guilt; his only gesture toward parenting was to send birthday gifts to his daughter for a few years.

However, Augie’s very resentment of Iris holds the seeds of parental concern: He is “[a]ngry that this responsibility had fallen to him, that he couldn’t leave it behind or pass it off to someone else. Angry because he did care, despite his best efforts not to” (21). For most of the novel, Augie believes that Iris is someone else’s child, forgotten in the rush to evacuate. Nevertheless, he feels enough for her that he can’t simply abandon her without harboring significant guilt. Over time, Iris’s presence begins to dredge up memories of his self-centered past. While ill, he sees a parade of women he has hurt and begins to face his failings as a partner and a father. Augie eventually becomes grateful for Iris’s presence. From this gratitude grows love and care, and he begins to put her own happiness and future ahead of his own. Through the need to care for another human being, Augie finds himself living the role of a father. Though Iris ultimately proves a figment of his imagination, her presence allows Augie to learn how to connect with someone on perhaps the deepest and most selfless level possible.

In contrast to Augie, Sully grapples with parental guilt from the beginning of the novel—a testament to the gendered expectations of mothers versus fathers. Augie spends the novel learning to love and take responsibility for another being; Sully knows exactly what is expected of her and rehearses over and over the ways that she has failed. She first appears waking in her bunk and touching the photograph of her daughter, Lucy—a ritual for her on board the Aether. She then berates herself, wondering what kind of mother would have only one, outdated photo of their child. Lucy’s presence haunts Sully’s thoughts throughout the rest of the novel, particularly as she faces the possibility that Lucy, and everyone else on Earth, might be dead. Comparing herself to Lucy’s stepmother, Sully knows “that she had been replaced, and that her replacement was an improvement—a better mother, a better spouse, a better person than she could ever be” (174). Even Sully’s professional success caThe concept of parenting haunts both Augie and Sully. Augie acknowledges his failures as a parent early in the narrative, recalling the child he never bothered to meet and admitting that he has no idea how to care for Iris beyond feeding her and allowing her to follow him on his walks. Deep relationships and responsibility are something Augie has avoided broadly, but the particular vulnerability and dependency of children initially leads Augie to resent Iris’s presence at the observatory. Augie has spent a lifetime avoiding the role of a father. He knows he impregnated Jean in New Mexico, and he fled when she refused an abortion. He seems to have long suppressed any feelings of guilt; his only gesture toward parenting was to send birthday gifts to his daughter for a few years.

However, Augie’s very resentment of Iris holds the seeds of parental concern: He is “[a]ngry that this responsibility had fallen to him, that he couldn’t leave it behind or pass it off to someone else. Angry because he did care, despite his best efforts not to” (21). For most of the novel, Augie believes that Iris is someone else’s child, forgotten in the rush to evacuate. Nevertheless, he feels enough for her that he can’t simply abandon her without harboring significant guilt. Over time, Iris’s presence begins to dredge up memories of his self-centered past. While ill, he sees a parade of women he has hurt and begins to face his failings as a partner and a father. Augie eventually becomes grateful for Iris’s presence. From this gratitude grows love and care, and he begins to put her own happiness and future ahead of his own. Through the need to care for another human being, Augie finds himself living the role of a father. Though Iris ultimately proves a figment of his imagination, her presence allows Augie to learn how to connect with someone on perhaps the deepest and most selfless level possible.

In contrast to Augie, Sully grapples with parental guilt from the beginning of the novel—a testament to the gendered expectations of mothers versus fathers. Augie spends the novel learning to love and take responsibility for another being; Sully knows exactly what is expected of her and rehearses over and over the ways that she has failed. She first appears waking in her bunk and touching the photograph of her daughter, Lucy—a ritual for her on board the Aether. She then berates herself, wondering what kind of mother would have only one, outdated photo of their child. Lucy’s presence haunts Sully’s thoughts throughout the rest of the novel, particularly as she faces the possibility that Lucy, and everyone else on Earth, might be dead. Comparing herself to Lucy’s stepmother, Sully knows “that she had been replaced, and that her replacement was an improvement—a better mother, a better spouse, a better person than she could ever be” (174). Even Sully’s professional success cannot offset the weight of societal expectations; in fact, it exacerbates Sully’s guilt, as she pursued her dreams of being an astronaut at the expense of traditional motherhood.

Augie’s and Sully’s divergent experiences of parenting raise questions not only about gender norms but also about the extent to which parenthood eclipses, or should eclipse, other facets of identity. Both Sully and Augie prioritize work over parenthood, but this choice leads them to very different places. Despite the guilt that Sully feels about her absence in Lucy’s life, she ultimately realizes that she has what Ivanov terms a “calling.” The word choice implies that sacrificing work would for Sully entail sacrificing an integral part of who she is. However, the expectations she faces as a mother are so entrenched that she only comes to terms with this when she is away not only from her family but from Earth. By contrast, society facilitates Augie’s abandonment of Jean and their infant daughter, but his obsession with work leaves him unfulfilled as he nears the end of his life. For Augie, embracing who he is requires the presence of someone to care for, which he finds in the imagined Iris.nnot offset the weight of societal expectations; in fact, it exacerbates Sully’s guilt, as she pursued her dreams of being an astronaut at the expense of traditional motherhood.

Augie’s and Sully’s divergent experiences of parenting raise questions not only about gender norms but also about the extent to which parenthood eclipses, or should eclipse, other facets of identity. Both Sully and Augie prioritize work over parenthood, but this choice leads them to very different places. Despite the guilt that Sully feels about her absence in Lucy’s life, she ultimately realizes that she has what Ivanov terms a “calling.” The word choice implies that sacrificing work would for Sully entail sacrificing an integral part of who she is. However, the expectations she faces as a mother are so entrenched that she only comes to terms with this when she is away not only from her family but from Earth. By contrast, society facilitates Augie’s abandonment of Jean and their infant daughter, but his obsession with work leaves him unfulfilled as he nears the end of his life. For Augie, embracing who he is requires the presence of someone to care for, which he finds in the imagined Iris.