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Good Morning, Destroyer of Men's Souls: A Memoir of Women, Addiction, and Love
A scorching memoir of a love affair with an addict, weaving personal reckoning with psychology and history to understand the nature of addiction, codependency, and our appetite for obsessive love
"The disease he has is addiction," Nina Renata Aron writes of her boyfriend, K. "The disease I have is loving him." Their love affair is dramatic, urgent, overwhelming—an intoxicating antidote to the long, lonely days of early motherhood. Soon after they get together, K starts using again, and years of relapses and broken promises follow. Even as his addiction deepens, she stays, convinced she is the one who can get him sober. After an adolescence marred by family trauma and addiction, Nina can't help but feel responsible for those suffering around her. How can she break this pattern? If she leaves K, has she failed him?
Writing in prose at once unflinching and acrobatic, Aron delivers a piercing memoir of romance and addiction, drawing on intimate anecdotes as well as academic research to crack open the long-feminized and overlooked phenomenon of codependency. She shifts between visceral, ferocious accounts of her affair with K and introspective analyses of the part she plays in his addictions, as well as defining moments in the history of codependency, from the temperance movement to the formation of Al-Anon to more recent research in the psychology of addiction. Good Morning, Destroyer of Men's Souls is a blazing, bighearted book that illuminates and adds nuance to the messy tethers between femininity, enabling, and love.
"The disease he has is addiction," Nina Renata Aron writes of her boyfriend, K. "The disease I have is loving him." Their love affair is dramatic, urgent, overwhelming—an intoxicating antidote to the long, lonely days of early motherhood. Soon after they get together, K starts using again, and years of relapses and broken promises follow. Even as his addiction deepens, she stays, convinced she is the one who can get him sober. After an adolescence marred by family trauma and addiction, Nina can't help but feel responsible for those suffering around her. How can she break this pattern? If she leaves K, has she failed him?
Writing in prose at once unflinching and acrobatic, Aron delivers a piercing memoir of romance and addiction, drawing on intimate anecdotes as well as academic research to crack open the long-feminized and overlooked phenomenon of codependency. She shifts between visceral, ferocious accounts of her affair with K and introspective analyses of the part she plays in his addictions, as well as defining moments in the history of codependency, from the temperance movement to the formation of Al-Anon to more recent research in the psychology of addiction. Good Morning, Destroyer of Men's Souls is a blazing, bighearted book that illuminates and adds nuance to the messy tethers between femininity, enabling, and love.
10 pages, Audiobook
First published April 21, 2020
284 people are currently reading
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About the author
Nina Renata Aron
1 book135 followersNina Renata Aron is a writer and editor living in Oakland, California. Her work has appeared in The New York Times, The New Republic, the Los Angeles Review of Books, and elsewhere.
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July 2, 2023what if i told you i bought this just for the title.
August 12, 2025
There are many, many memoirs about addiction out there, but Nina Renata Aron rather focuses on co-dependency, the way people who have close relationships with addicts are affected by this illness. She does so by contemplating her own life and the family she grew up in: The way her grandmother and mother lived and taught love and relationships, the heroin addiction of her beloved older sister Lucia, her own background in the punk scene and the Riot Grrrl movement, her depression and drinking habits, the way she chose her husband, and of course her relationship with K, the core topic of the book. K was her first love, and years after they split up, she takes up with him again - but now she has two young chldren, and K's a heroin addict.
Does our protagonist enable her lover's bad choices by not letting him down? Is her wish to help him pathological? Is K's addiction a lifestyle choice? Why are co-dependents usually women? Aron's writing is raw and honest, and she frequently refers to scientific research, historic developments (like the temperance movement, to which the title of the book alludes), and other writers like Terese Marie Mailhot and Rachel Cusk. In an intersectional approach, she investigates how gender roles - the (good) daughter, sister, mother, lover, wife etc. - affect decisions and can be traps.
It's certainly possible that the real K simply had a name that started with a K, but I found it interesting that Aron chose this letter to refer to him - Franz Kafka famously employed characters named K in his texts which investigate "identities of potential" (as Malte Kleinwort put it), of what people might become. Aron now states that co-dependents fall in love with their partners' potential, with what they might become if they were cured - while I find that (hopeful) sentiment relatable, it certainly is a kafkaesk idea (plus Aron holds degrees in Russian and Eurasian studies, and Kafka was born in Prague).
A real pageturner of a memoir about destructive love, a book which shows that not only addiction is an illness, but co-dependency is as well.
Does our protagonist enable her lover's bad choices by not letting him down? Is her wish to help him pathological? Is K's addiction a lifestyle choice? Why are co-dependents usually women? Aron's writing is raw and honest, and she frequently refers to scientific research, historic developments (like the temperance movement, to which the title of the book alludes), and other writers like Terese Marie Mailhot and Rachel Cusk. In an intersectional approach, she investigates how gender roles - the (good) daughter, sister, mother, lover, wife etc. - affect decisions and can be traps.
It's certainly possible that the real K simply had a name that started with a K, but I found it interesting that Aron chose this letter to refer to him - Franz Kafka famously employed characters named K in his texts which investigate "identities of potential" (as Malte Kleinwort put it), of what people might become. Aron now states that co-dependents fall in love with their partners' potential, with what they might become if they were cured - while I find that (hopeful) sentiment relatable, it certainly is a kafkaesk idea (plus Aron holds degrees in Russian and Eurasian studies, and Kafka was born in Prague).
A real pageturner of a memoir about destructive love, a book which shows that not only addiction is an illness, but co-dependency is as well.
March 22, 2021
I struggled with what rating to give this.
The good: Nina has a gift with words. She’s a talented writer.
What I didn’t like: I found her immature; too often wanting to blame “family trauma” for her mistakes. But the family she writes about is full of love and commitment to another. Her family life wasn’t easy- I feel her parents fear and worry over her older sister’s addiction. But she seems to think that hard times equal trauma, and I didn’t see that trauma come through in the memoir.
I was alarmed by some of the things she writes about, but doesn’t seem to acknowledge how messed up it is. As she talks about breast feeding her youngest daughter while also purchasing her deadbeat boyfriend Fentanyl (not the father of her child; that is her husband), all I think is “why didn’t her parents or sisters take her children away from her?”
She also cleverly tells the story in a confusing timeline, hoping the reader won’t piece together certain details. For example, when K comes back into her life (when she’s married), he tells her he’s been sober for a year. Next: they’re having sex. Then all of a sudden he’s not sober anymore, but she refuses to acknowledge she’s the difference. Is she really the victim here?
Some people need to live in chaos- and this is her. But to me, she created her own chaos. I did not see her as a victim of other’s addiction. And to me, it was never clear why- why she wouldn’t put her children’s lives and well-being ahead of her own. Reading this, I felt she should have had her ex-husband have full custody. He seemed like a great father and caretaker for the children. I found her lack of responsibility selfish, frustrating, and immature.
The good: Nina has a gift with words. She’s a talented writer.
What I didn’t like: I found her immature; too often wanting to blame “family trauma” for her mistakes. But the family she writes about is full of love and commitment to another. Her family life wasn’t easy- I feel her parents fear and worry over her older sister’s addiction. But she seems to think that hard times equal trauma, and I didn’t see that trauma come through in the memoir.
I was alarmed by some of the things she writes about, but doesn’t seem to acknowledge how messed up it is. As she talks about breast feeding her youngest daughter while also purchasing her deadbeat boyfriend Fentanyl (not the father of her child; that is her husband), all I think is “why didn’t her parents or sisters take her children away from her?”
She also cleverly tells the story in a confusing timeline, hoping the reader won’t piece together certain details. For example, when K comes back into her life (when she’s married), he tells her he’s been sober for a year. Next: they’re having sex. Then all of a sudden he’s not sober anymore, but she refuses to acknowledge she’s the difference. Is she really the victim here?
Some people need to live in chaos- and this is her. But to me, she created her own chaos. I did not see her as a victim of other’s addiction. And to me, it was never clear why- why she wouldn’t put her children’s lives and well-being ahead of her own. Reading this, I felt she should have had her ex-husband have full custody. He seemed like a great father and caretaker for the children. I found her lack of responsibility selfish, frustrating, and immature.
April 22, 2020
Nina Renata Aron's Good Morning, Destroyer of Men's Souls is an absolute mind fuck, and I mean that in the best possible way. While the memoir is centered around Aron's close proximity to addiction and an exploration of her codependency within those relationships, it quickly becomes a larger treatise on womanhood, upbringing, sexism, and what it truly means to love another person in a patriarchal world.
Is love passive or is it active? Is love about mundane daily life or once-in-a-lifetime moments that take your breath away? How do we love people who aren't able to properly love themselves or us, and are they worth our sacrifice? For someone facing issues with people-pleasing or codependency, the answers aren't so simple. There's an elevated rawness to Aron's words and her slow unpacking of her history and these questions that's honestly rare in memoirs—and even addiction-related ones. There's no performance or righteousness, only her painful truth.
Good Morning, Destroyer of Men's Souls is required reading, and I guarantee you'll stew in your own thoughts and emotions and memories for days (if not weeks) afterwards. I can already tell this is a book I'm going to revisit for years to come, and I'll find something new in it at every stage of life. I feel lucky to have read this memoir, even if I'm mentally overheated at the moment.
Is love passive or is it active? Is love about mundane daily life or once-in-a-lifetime moments that take your breath away? How do we love people who aren't able to properly love themselves or us, and are they worth our sacrifice? For someone facing issues with people-pleasing or codependency, the answers aren't so simple. There's an elevated rawness to Aron's words and her slow unpacking of her history and these questions that's honestly rare in memoirs—and even addiction-related ones. There's no performance or righteousness, only her painful truth.
Good Morning, Destroyer of Men's Souls is required reading, and I guarantee you'll stew in your own thoughts and emotions and memories for days (if not weeks) afterwards. I can already tell this is a book I'm going to revisit for years to come, and I'll find something new in it at every stage of life. I feel lucky to have read this memoir, even if I'm mentally overheated at the moment.
May 16, 2025
I have often thought of myself, tragically, as a sucker for chaos. But seen from this angle, perhaps it wasn't chaos exactly, but the redemptive promise that chaos held. The seed of a future stability that would be hard-won and deeply rewarding, in which I would play a vital, singular role. Maybe Lucia's survival, which had felt so unlikely for so long, imparted the belief that in all wild careening, there is the possibility that things can be calmed, steadied, righted. It took me all of my youth and a significant portion of adulthood to realize that sometimes when people are careening, it's best to get out of the way.
The title of this work is Carrie Nation's exhortation, delivered outside the door of many a Kansas bar during the days of the Temperance Movement. There she stood, hatchet in hand, prepared to enter and demolish the counter over which men received their liquor and lost their way. "Good morning," she said, looking up from the street. "Good morning, destroyer of men's souls." Nina Renata Aron's memoir reflects on a life given over to the enabling of addiction and examines, in a harshly provocative way, the penalties of co-dependance.
Ms. Aron was raised in a family possessed of both privilege and disadvantage. There was love and home and education. There was also divorce and heroin. This is, however, not the story of the addict but the story of all the sacrifice, anger, energy and strategy it takes to manage the addict - and how a loved one's destructive course alters the lives of those around them; how the compass points change, and the seeds of the future are damaged. Her sister will not be the last addict in her experience and that, she acidly admits, was for many years the attractive choice.
This is very much Whitman's "barbaric yawp" in style and in tone; perhaps even the scream that comes at the sterilization of a wound. There is no room for the reader, really, only the pain and its recognition - and so it is profoundly selfish in its aim. Ruthless too, it needs be said, because we are accustomed to viewing selfishness as an unwarranted kindness, and there is nothing kind about the manner in which Ms. Aron views her history. Self-compassion is only just arriving in her life. It has yet to take its seat.
Less a book, I think, than an event - and enlightening in that way.
The title of this work is Carrie Nation's exhortation, delivered outside the door of many a Kansas bar during the days of the Temperance Movement. There she stood, hatchet in hand, prepared to enter and demolish the counter over which men received their liquor and lost their way. "Good morning," she said, looking up from the street. "Good morning, destroyer of men's souls." Nina Renata Aron's memoir reflects on a life given over to the enabling of addiction and examines, in a harshly provocative way, the penalties of co-dependance.
Ms. Aron was raised in a family possessed of both privilege and disadvantage. There was love and home and education. There was also divorce and heroin. This is, however, not the story of the addict but the story of all the sacrifice, anger, energy and strategy it takes to manage the addict - and how a loved one's destructive course alters the lives of those around them; how the compass points change, and the seeds of the future are damaged. Her sister will not be the last addict in her experience and that, she acidly admits, was for many years the attractive choice.
This is very much Whitman's "barbaric yawp" in style and in tone; perhaps even the scream that comes at the sterilization of a wound. There is no room for the reader, really, only the pain and its recognition - and so it is profoundly selfish in its aim. Ruthless too, it needs be said, because we are accustomed to viewing selfishness as an unwarranted kindness, and there is nothing kind about the manner in which Ms. Aron views her history. Self-compassion is only just arriving in her life. It has yet to take its seat.
Less a book, I think, than an event - and enlightening in that way.
August 12, 2020
This book is strange in both intriguing and offputting ways. This book is supposed to be a memoir of independence, the author's journey with relation to those with substance abuse issues in her life, including her sister, husband, and boyfriend. Much of her reflections on their addiction and her codependence from Al-Anon and AA. What I found confusing is that the author herself struggles with alcohol addiction (and possibly drug addiction) for many years of her life, including right after the birth of her second child. I wondered why she categorized herself as Al-Anon and those around her as AA. I wondered if she thought about how other people in her life, say her husband, could have qualified himself as being a codependent and the author as the one with an addiction. She did not really explain why she got to qualify others as addicts but herself with an addiction as a codependent.
The author also does not seem to recognize her privilege throughout the book. She talks in sad ways about money and credit cards but, honestly, who can afford to shell out $40 every day to a boyfriend who is not working while managing a one-parent household in the Bay Area? She seemed incapable of recognizing her own privilege within her situation. This does not negate the challenges she faces but the memoir seems devoid of any reflection on privilege.
For an author who spends an exhaustive amount of time in the book quoting authors, essayist, poets, etc. she explains away a lot of her "codependence" to not being able to express herself, i.e. her husband going sailing all weekend and her not being able to ask him to stay home. Although easier said than done, I found myself wondering how can someone whose job it is to utilize words and who choose to excessively utilize other authors' words be so unable to use words to express her basic needs? Is this part of codependence? Or is this part of the author's growth and something she should reflect more on and not dismiss?
Finally, I appreciated the author's work of understanding historical and modern frameworks of gender both within the larger society and, more specifically, with addiction. However, the author fixates on her own beauty throughout her life. These calls for gender equality and reflections on gender in society seem misaligned with the author's personal obsession with her own beauty, including make-up, hair, clothes, etc.
Overall, I cannot say I recommend the book but I will say that I found it thought-provoking, if not infuriating, at times.
The author also does not seem to recognize her privilege throughout the book. She talks in sad ways about money and credit cards but, honestly, who can afford to shell out $40 every day to a boyfriend who is not working while managing a one-parent household in the Bay Area? She seemed incapable of recognizing her own privilege within her situation. This does not negate the challenges she faces but the memoir seems devoid of any reflection on privilege.
For an author who spends an exhaustive amount of time in the book quoting authors, essayist, poets, etc. she explains away a lot of her "codependence" to not being able to express herself, i.e. her husband going sailing all weekend and her not being able to ask him to stay home. Although easier said than done, I found myself wondering how can someone whose job it is to utilize words and who choose to excessively utilize other authors' words be so unable to use words to express her basic needs? Is this part of codependence? Or is this part of the author's growth and something she should reflect more on and not dismiss?
Finally, I appreciated the author's work of understanding historical and modern frameworks of gender both within the larger society and, more specifically, with addiction. However, the author fixates on her own beauty throughout her life. These calls for gender equality and reflections on gender in society seem misaligned with the author's personal obsession with her own beauty, including make-up, hair, clothes, etc.
Overall, I cannot say I recommend the book but I will say that I found it thought-provoking, if not infuriating, at times.
April 18, 2020
A fantastic, deeply personal memoir on addiction and codependency.
I'm not sure anything I say about this will quite do it justice - Aron writes deftly about her own personal experience of growing up with addiction within her immediate family, her relationship with K - a man she meets as a teenager and later becomes a heroin addict, the history of Al-Anon (the support group for family and friends of alcoholics) and her own experiences of the group, as well as slightly more general sections on love, codependency and how the two are much more complex when intertwined. These themes are all weaved together with a more "traditional" memoir about her depression, marriage and motherhood.
Given all the different themes this could have easily become confused and seemed like it was trying to achieve too much, but that never felt the case; in fact I found this pretty unputdownable. Highly recommended.
Thank you Netgalley and Serpent's Tail/Profile Books for the advance copy, which was provided in exchange for an honest review.
I'm not sure anything I say about this will quite do it justice - Aron writes deftly about her own personal experience of growing up with addiction within her immediate family, her relationship with K - a man she meets as a teenager and later becomes a heroin addict, the history of Al-Anon (the support group for family and friends of alcoholics) and her own experiences of the group, as well as slightly more general sections on love, codependency and how the two are much more complex when intertwined. These themes are all weaved together with a more "traditional" memoir about her depression, marriage and motherhood.
Given all the different themes this could have easily become confused and seemed like it was trying to achieve too much, but that never felt the case; in fact I found this pretty unputdownable. Highly recommended.
Thank you Netgalley and Serpent's Tail/Profile Books for the advance copy, which was provided in exchange for an honest review.
June 7, 2020
Really, I'd give this 3.5 stars. The writer still seemed kind of in love with her illness, honestly, and with her own sense of her cool girlness. I'd also recommend Codependents Anonymous rather than Al-Anon for codependency recovery, and I didn't find that the two parts of the book (an incomplete history of codependency and her own personal story) meshed very well. Of course, this may be because I've been waiting a long time for a good codependency memoir and this one didn't really speak to me.
May 7, 2020
It’s was an so so book about a women who lives with addicts in her life and who herself is addicted to some degree to her own devices. The book didn’t make me like her as a person or how she dealt with situations. How can a book be deep and yet not really deep. I didn’t feel anything really. I had more questions about how her kids grew up dealing with this life. That is about the only question I had in my mind. I see all these 5 star ratings and wonder if I’m the only person who felt like it was just meh.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
January 25, 2020
This book is so needed. For anyone who has ever loved someone with an addiction, for those of us with addiction, and those who yearn to learn more, this story is brilliantly personal but also universal. An act of high literary memoir and journalism woven seamlessly. I read this in a burst. It's also a love story, so real and visceral I couldn't put it down. I am so happy this book exists. It feels inspiring and new and like the update we need for our current times. I can't say enough about this book! I love it.
July 25, 2020
I had a lot of mixed feelings about Good Morning, Destroyer of Men's Souls. This memoir is no doubt eloquently written. At times, however, I found myself lost and confused as Nina relates her experiences as both a co-dependent and an alcoholic. Despite poignant descriptions of her struggles, her attitudes struck me as immature to an extent. Ultimately there is growth, though it felt cloudy and incomplete.
December 29, 2022
I’m so tired of memoirs written by awful people who don’t realise how awful they are.
July 26, 2020
Good Morning Destroyer of Men's Souls: A Memoir by Nina Renata Aron - ⭐⭐⭐⭐
This book was both deeply compulsive to read and intimately unsettling as Nina Renata Aron opens up, quite graphically and intimately in places, about her life. The book centres on her relationships and how the idea of co-dependency influenced by her relationships with her sister and her ex-boyfriend/lover K who were both drug abusers. This book is not just a memoir, however, as Aron examines ideas surrounding co-dependency; its origin, its gendered stereotypes, the arguments and theories surrounding it and what it means.
I would not recommend this book lightly to anyone given the subject matter of drug abuse and codependency. However, I think this book sheds light on those in society who both have a very real issue and those individuals in their life who have to deal with it. Drug abuse is frequently seen as a taboo subject and often drug abusers are written off as "wastes of space" and more. When actually much of that abuse and dependency on drugs is driven by deeper issues.
Nina Renata Aron does not shy away from discussing her own recklessness, obsessions and desires. However, she also humanises and is incredibly introspective as she examines the various moments of her life. This book is dark, gritty and quite frankly pretty visceral at times, but it's also incredibly honest and open. Thank you to @serpentstail for the #gifted copy of this book.
"I believe the way we tell stories about addiction matters deeply--it informs the way we act, from the level of public health discourse to the kitchen table. It informs the degree of empathy we can bring to those suffering with this disease, the extent to which we can protect ourselves from its destruction and embrace living in spite of it. And it shapes the way we understand love and care--what can be justly expected of us, and when it has gone too far."
This book was both deeply compulsive to read and intimately unsettling as Nina Renata Aron opens up, quite graphically and intimately in places, about her life. The book centres on her relationships and how the idea of co-dependency influenced by her relationships with her sister and her ex-boyfriend/lover K who were both drug abusers. This book is not just a memoir, however, as Aron examines ideas surrounding co-dependency; its origin, its gendered stereotypes, the arguments and theories surrounding it and what it means.
I would not recommend this book lightly to anyone given the subject matter of drug abuse and codependency. However, I think this book sheds light on those in society who both have a very real issue and those individuals in their life who have to deal with it. Drug abuse is frequently seen as a taboo subject and often drug abusers are written off as "wastes of space" and more. When actually much of that abuse and dependency on drugs is driven by deeper issues.
Nina Renata Aron does not shy away from discussing her own recklessness, obsessions and desires. However, she also humanises and is incredibly introspective as she examines the various moments of her life. This book is dark, gritty and quite frankly pretty visceral at times, but it's also incredibly honest and open. Thank you to @serpentstail for the #gifted copy of this book.
July 19, 2020
While reading this book, I brought up codependency in relationships in a number of conversations with my friends. This book made me question almost every relationship I have with pretty much everyone I'm even remotely close to in my life. It's so easy to get high on people, use them like a drug. This book has honestly given me some serious perspective about love, about boundaries and about the lies we tell ourselves and the behaviour we validate in the name of love.
Good Morning, Destroyer of Men's Souls is a gut wrenchingly honest memoir, that gets too real and too dark every now and then. I have constantly been recommending this book to everyone I've talked to, and I just loved how this book shook the very core of my knee jerk reflexes in relationships, left me vacuous and wanting and then made me fend for myself.
Good Morning, Destroyer of Men's Souls is a gut wrenchingly honest memoir, that gets too real and too dark every now and then. I have constantly been recommending this book to everyone I've talked to, and I just loved how this book shook the very core of my knee jerk reflexes in relationships, left me vacuous and wanting and then made me fend for myself.
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July 14, 2020It doesn’t feel right to rate a book this unflinching. So I won’t.
August 30, 2020
I know we shouldn’t judge a book by it’s cover… but judging it by its title is fine, right? Good Morning, Destroyer Of Men’s Souls is a corker. I would’ve picked up this book no matter what it was about. Luckily, Nina Renata Aron has the chops to back it up. This is an incredible memoir about love and addiction, from the perspective of the one who loves the addict. It's an unflinching account of a life of co-dependency, one I would recommend for fans of Kate Holden, Cheryl Strayed, and Susannah Cahalan.
My extended review of Good Morning, Destroyer Of Men's Souls can be found on Keeping Up With The Penguins.
My extended review of Good Morning, Destroyer Of Men's Souls can be found on Keeping Up With The Penguins.
July 7, 2020
The subject of addiction and recovery is so popular in the memoir genre that it has its own subsection, the recovery memoir. What is less charted, and arguably more interesting to many readers, is the story of the people who love and live with addicts. Codependency — we've all heard of it — is the clinical term, and author Nina Renata Aron makes the intricate psychology of it vividly clear in this memoir. The title comes from a declaration made by Carrie Nation, an outspoken proponent of temperance, to bartenders before she took a hatchet to their establishments. The narrative circles around the author and her relationship with 'K', an addict she met while still young, and her own sister, also an addict. Even as Aron observes the codependency between her mother and sister while fighting her sister's addiction, she doesn't see that in her relationship with K. It is not until K puts her children at risk does Aron finally see that her addiction is K. This is an unflinching and painfully honest memoir from a side of the addiction story that is not often seen.
June 7, 2020
On paper, I should love this book. Growing up in NJ at the same time as the author, I started feeling connected to her childhood, music, and mentions of pop culture. And I normally love dark, gritty books; stories of female protagonists rising from the ashes. But this book really feel short.
While Aron is a talented, exquisite writer, her memoir lacks introspection. The historical and medical references about codependency felt dry, defensive, cut and pasted.
When reading memoirs or novels about flawed characters, there is a vulnerability that keeps them endearing. But I found her unlikable and flat.
While Aron is a talented, exquisite writer, her memoir lacks introspection. The historical and medical references about codependency felt dry, defensive, cut and pasted.
When reading memoirs or novels about flawed characters, there is a vulnerability that keeps them endearing. But I found her unlikable and flat.
September 15, 2020
I devoured Good Morning, Destroyer of Men’s Souls in a day. For me, it hits the sweet spot between academia and accessibility, and lived experience and research. There’s a lot of psychological and sociological ideas and concepts around codependency, addiction, gender, self esteem, equality, division of labor, all of which are easy to understand in the context of the author’s life (and your own - I’ve realized I’m probably more codependent than I’d thought). It’s beautifully written too: I loved the settings of the Bay Area and New York. It made me nostalgic for the time I’ve spent there, and the 8 months Aron spends in SF as an 18 year old reads like a real life Visit From the Goon Squad.
Though I really enjoyed Good Morning, I can understand why some others have not: there’s valid critique around Aron not taking ownership or adequately examining the impact her relationship with K had and will continue to have on her kids, as well as not exploring her own problematic substance use enough - at a minimum, there’s so much drunk driving which made me wince, but I’m aware Americans are much more casual in this regard than Australians are. While Aron does let herself off the hook in many regards, she doesn’t present herself as perfect by any means - she makes many mistakes and slips into ethical grey areas all the time, but why shouldn’t she? This is my kind of feminism.
What was most frustrating for me was not that she kept going back to K, but that she kept going back to AA/Al Anon - as though sobriety is the only acceptable goal, and that this program is the only way to tackle addiction and/or codependency - despite dedicating a large portion of the book to explaining why these institutions are so problematic (again, this seems like a very American attitude to me!) I’ve seen AA do nearly as much damage as substances have to my friends and clients. It’s free and it’s accessible, but it’s run more often than not by people who have not had the support, time or desire to integrate their own trauma and who are posing as professionals to guide others who are at an even more vulnerable stage in their journey, with a splash of Jesus. Disastrous combo. I am team harm minimization, in case that wasn’t obvious.
Other books that came to mind while reading were: In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado, Woman of Substances by Jenny Valentish, Bad Behavioir by Rebecca Starford. All written by complex, contradictory and very clever women.
Though I really enjoyed Good Morning, I can understand why some others have not: there’s valid critique around Aron not taking ownership or adequately examining the impact her relationship with K had and will continue to have on her kids, as well as not exploring her own problematic substance use enough - at a minimum, there’s so much drunk driving which made me wince, but I’m aware Americans are much more casual in this regard than Australians are. While Aron does let herself off the hook in many regards, she doesn’t present herself as perfect by any means - she makes many mistakes and slips into ethical grey areas all the time, but why shouldn’t she? This is my kind of feminism.
What was most frustrating for me was not that she kept going back to K, but that she kept going back to AA/Al Anon - as though sobriety is the only acceptable goal, and that this program is the only way to tackle addiction and/or codependency - despite dedicating a large portion of the book to explaining why these institutions are so problematic (again, this seems like a very American attitude to me!) I’ve seen AA do nearly as much damage as substances have to my friends and clients. It’s free and it’s accessible, but it’s run more often than not by people who have not had the support, time or desire to integrate their own trauma and who are posing as professionals to guide others who are at an even more vulnerable stage in their journey, with a splash of Jesus. Disastrous combo. I am team harm minimization, in case that wasn’t obvious.
Other books that came to mind while reading were: In the Dream House by Carmen Maria Machado, Woman of Substances by Jenny Valentish, Bad Behavioir by Rebecca Starford. All written by complex, contradictory and very clever women.
September 24, 2020
So the blurb for this book says it contains "a piercing memoir of romance and addiction, drawing on intimate anecdotes as well as academic research to crack open the long-feminized and overlooked phenomenon of codependency. She shifts between visceral, ferocious accounts of her affair with K and introspective analyses of the part she plays in his addictions, as well as defining moments in the history of codependency, from the temperance movement to the formation of Al-Anon to more recent research in the psychology of addiction."
I would say its a memoir of romance and addiction with very, very limited introspective analyses and very, very little about the history of codependency. I remember reading nothing about recent research in the psychology of addiction in this book. She mentions Al-Anon and being very resistant intially to the ideas within it, so I was waiting for the more in depth analyses of how she started to understand and apply these to her life. Got nothing of that in this book, it's mainly a memoir of her living with her addicted boyfriend.
I would say its a memoir of romance and addiction with very, very limited introspective analyses and very, very little about the history of codependency. I remember reading nothing about recent research in the psychology of addiction in this book. She mentions Al-Anon and being very resistant intially to the ideas within it, so I was waiting for the more in depth analyses of how she started to understand and apply these to her life. Got nothing of that in this book, it's mainly a memoir of her living with her addicted boyfriend.
February 28, 2020
Addiction is a disease that Nina, is trying to cure her boyfriend K. of.
Their relationship is dramatic, intoxicating, fun times and laughter.
When K is using, he fills Nina with broken promises. The last straw was when he drives drunk with her children in the car.
Nina's own family has had issues with addiction and codependency.
This book shows the correlation of femininity, enabling and love.
I want to thank Random House for sending me this book.
Their relationship is dramatic, intoxicating, fun times and laughter.
When K is using, he fills Nina with broken promises. The last straw was when he drives drunk with her children in the car.
Nina's own family has had issues with addiction and codependency.
This book shows the correlation of femininity, enabling and love.
I want to thank Random House for sending me this book.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
February 24, 2020
I was sent a review galley of Good Morning, Destroyer of Men’s Souls by Nina Renata Aron. The title immediately interested me and the beautiful cover drew my eye, as it is even more impressive in color. This is a memoir about love, addiction, codependency, and women.
If you’ve heard one addict story, you’ve heard a thousand; man made homeless from his drug problem gets clean and makes his fortune, teens stealing from their parent’s purse to fund their habits, people finding their loved ones cold and blue after an overdose. There’s a million stories with a variety of endings. The public is fascinated with the stories of addicts (that’s not to say that the public is enamored with HELPING addicts, just poking and prodding them for their “journey”). What we hear about less, is the perspective of the loved ones of addicts. You might hear a testimonial here and there, but we rarely get into how deeply one’s life is affected by loving and taking care of an addict. Nina makes a comment about how the family members are just usually just seen as supporting cast in the story. I think this is an important narrative that she brings to light. Aren’t their lives torn apart? Aren’t they affected by depression, by the money drain that comes with taking care of an addict, by the instability and havoc that an addict can impose upon their lives? They are working, cleaning, nurturing, and worrying while the throes of addiction grasp the person that they love.
In Good Morning, Destroyer of Men’s Souls, Nina highlights her childhood, where she was forced to take on the responsibility of an adult at a young age in the midst of her parents’ divorce and her sister’s growing addiction to drugs. She watched her mom date and nurture a drug addict for close to a decade after her father. This habit of nurturing an addict, which seems to have been psychologically instilled into her at a young age, follows her into her adulthood. She reunites with an old flame and is absolutely consumed by him. Nina is very honest with us. She cheats on her husband and trades her financially stable, solid, predictable life for the instability and at times, excitement, that comes from loving an addict. By the end of the book, Nina has come to terms with the fact that her codependency is putting her children at risk.
This is one of those books that is hard to read because you want to shake Nina and yell, “leave him! What is wrong with you? There’s children involved!” That’s part of the issue though, obsessive love doesn’t make sense. You can say that family and friends are enablers —and they are, to an extent— but what is the alternative? Seeing your loved one on the street, their body rotting from misuse, starving, dying alone. An addict will rarely be forced by others into fighting their addiction. Nina understand this, and knows there’s people out there that can cut someone off as soon as their offers of help are being abused, and I think she understands there’s a strength in that. She was not one of those people. Her whole life she’s been conditioned to help the people around her, to the detriment to herself, her kids, her stability.
Nina speaks with a clear, poignant voice. She’s that rare type of person that can look upon her past with a keen sense of awareness. I think those of us that are aware of our trauma tend to be a bit sadder. Though I haven’t ever been in a codependent situation with an addict, I have been in a codependent relationship with someone that adamantly ignored their own trauma’s existence, which spurred into a toxic, harmful relationship. I related heavily to Nina’s talk of obsessive love, to the addiction of the adrenaline that an unstable relationship provides, of how a calm relationship can be difficult to adjust to after. She is also a middle child, like myself, and talks about how that made her more likely the peacemaker, the pleaser. Less likely to say no, more likely to say yes. I could see a lot of myself in her descriptions even though I didn’t have the same experience.
There’s also a theme of female empowerment here. Women are often the ones caring for people at their own expense, but most of our growth comes from when we are alone. Nina watches her mother blossom after the end of her relationship with an addict. When she ends her own relationship, she is able to provide a secure and stable life for her kids. It can be hard to find the line between empathy for others and respecting the needs of our own lives, but there’s a strength in both. There’s a really lovely quote about women becoming themselves in the space where men aren’t, that I’d love to include after publication.
I must admit, there were a few moments that I glazed over. There was a cycle of attending Al-Anon while alternatively berating Al-Anon. I’m sure this would be more interesting to people that have gone through this cycle, though. There were also moments that our author skipped around and then kept going back to parts of her life that she had previously talked about. Some of those moment seemed like they would have been more interesting to address this chronologically instead of tearing us away from the current topic to revisit. These were some of the only flaws I could see. Ultimately, I give this book 4 out of 5 stars.
There’s some beautiful quotes from this book that I’d love to share but I am obligated to wait until after publication. I will repost with quotes at that time. Good Morning, Destroyer of Men’s Souls will be published April 21st, 2020.
If you’ve heard one addict story, you’ve heard a thousand; man made homeless from his drug problem gets clean and makes his fortune, teens stealing from their parent’s purse to fund their habits, people finding their loved ones cold and blue after an overdose. There’s a million stories with a variety of endings. The public is fascinated with the stories of addicts (that’s not to say that the public is enamored with HELPING addicts, just poking and prodding them for their “journey”). What we hear about less, is the perspective of the loved ones of addicts. You might hear a testimonial here and there, but we rarely get into how deeply one’s life is affected by loving and taking care of an addict. Nina makes a comment about how the family members are just usually just seen as supporting cast in the story. I think this is an important narrative that she brings to light. Aren’t their lives torn apart? Aren’t they affected by depression, by the money drain that comes with taking care of an addict, by the instability and havoc that an addict can impose upon their lives? They are working, cleaning, nurturing, and worrying while the throes of addiction grasp the person that they love.
In Good Morning, Destroyer of Men’s Souls, Nina highlights her childhood, where she was forced to take on the responsibility of an adult at a young age in the midst of her parents’ divorce and her sister’s growing addiction to drugs. She watched her mom date and nurture a drug addict for close to a decade after her father. This habit of nurturing an addict, which seems to have been psychologically instilled into her at a young age, follows her into her adulthood. She reunites with an old flame and is absolutely consumed by him. Nina is very honest with us. She cheats on her husband and trades her financially stable, solid, predictable life for the instability and at times, excitement, that comes from loving an addict. By the end of the book, Nina has come to terms with the fact that her codependency is putting her children at risk.
This is one of those books that is hard to read because you want to shake Nina and yell, “leave him! What is wrong with you? There’s children involved!” That’s part of the issue though, obsessive love doesn’t make sense. You can say that family and friends are enablers —and they are, to an extent— but what is the alternative? Seeing your loved one on the street, their body rotting from misuse, starving, dying alone. An addict will rarely be forced by others into fighting their addiction. Nina understand this, and knows there’s people out there that can cut someone off as soon as their offers of help are being abused, and I think she understands there’s a strength in that. She was not one of those people. Her whole life she’s been conditioned to help the people around her, to the detriment to herself, her kids, her stability.
Nina speaks with a clear, poignant voice. She’s that rare type of person that can look upon her past with a keen sense of awareness. I think those of us that are aware of our trauma tend to be a bit sadder. Though I haven’t ever been in a codependent situation with an addict, I have been in a codependent relationship with someone that adamantly ignored their own trauma’s existence, which spurred into a toxic, harmful relationship. I related heavily to Nina’s talk of obsessive love, to the addiction of the adrenaline that an unstable relationship provides, of how a calm relationship can be difficult to adjust to after. She is also a middle child, like myself, and talks about how that made her more likely the peacemaker, the pleaser. Less likely to say no, more likely to say yes. I could see a lot of myself in her descriptions even though I didn’t have the same experience.
There’s also a theme of female empowerment here. Women are often the ones caring for people at their own expense, but most of our growth comes from when we are alone. Nina watches her mother blossom after the end of her relationship with an addict. When she ends her own relationship, she is able to provide a secure and stable life for her kids. It can be hard to find the line between empathy for others and respecting the needs of our own lives, but there’s a strength in both. There’s a really lovely quote about women becoming themselves in the space where men aren’t, that I’d love to include after publication.
I must admit, there were a few moments that I glazed over. There was a cycle of attending Al-Anon while alternatively berating Al-Anon. I’m sure this would be more interesting to people that have gone through this cycle, though. There were also moments that our author skipped around and then kept going back to parts of her life that she had previously talked about. Some of those moment seemed like they would have been more interesting to address this chronologically instead of tearing us away from the current topic to revisit. These were some of the only flaws I could see. Ultimately, I give this book 4 out of 5 stars.
There’s some beautiful quotes from this book that I’d love to share but I am obligated to wait until after publication. I will repost with quotes at that time. Good Morning, Destroyer of Men’s Souls will be published April 21st, 2020.
March 25, 2022
3,5 ⭐️ Cuando termine de leer este libro, me quede unos 10 minutos abrazada a él en la cama, intentando asimilar todo lo que había leído. No es broma! Fue una lectura muy intensa, que tocó temas sobre los que yo nunca había leído, cómo la codependencia emocional. Lo que más duele de la lectura es saber que es una historia personal, una historia igual a la de muchas mujeres que viven con un alcohólico o drogadicto en sus casas. Casi siempre hablamos del adicto, pero pocas veces nos enfocamos en el sufrimiento de las personas que aman a ese familiar y que no encuentran manera de ayudarle, la autora le da voz a esas personas. Además de estos temas, se tocan muchos otros, cómo ser: los patrones que seguimos a la hora de relacionarnos con otras personas, el autoboicot, el “lugar de la mujer” en diferentes situaciones, lo difícil de la maternidad, la responsabilidad afectiva, etc.
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El libro me gusto mucho! No es lo que suelo leer, por eso logro sorprenderme. Lo que si, creo que no es un libro para todo el mundo. Tenes que estar en el mood de querer aprender e informarte sobre ciertos temas, sabiendo que es una historia que te va a pegar fuerte, más si sos mujer. Fuera de eso, me parece un libro súper interesante!
.
El libro me gusto mucho! No es lo que suelo leer, por eso logro sorprenderme. Lo que si, creo que no es un libro para todo el mundo. Tenes que estar en el mood de querer aprender e informarte sobre ciertos temas, sabiendo que es una historia que te va a pegar fuerte, más si sos mujer. Fuera de eso, me parece un libro súper interesante!
February 28, 2023
4.5 ⭐
Usually, I don't read memoirs. I want to say this book was good, but it feels quite strange saying that about the real story of a real person, especially with this topic. Like saying, "Yeah, the tragedies of your life are very entertaining."
It is the type of book that leaves you feeling empty because it's over, and you don't want it to be over. Nina has a way with words, she is a very good writer! I like the way she tells her narrative, dropping hints and then returning to give us the full picture.
This book is about addiction, like so many others before it. However, from a different perspective, through the eyes of the person who loves the addict. I think the story is about love and the constant pursuit of love and wanting to be loved. And what do you do when love is intertwined with codependence? It was sometimes difficult to believe these people were real, it felt like something out of a movie. I believe the book does an excellent job of depicting the harsh reality of addiction without dehumanizing the addict and giving a voice to those whose work is often invisible, often women, who care for the addict, love him, support him, and believe in him, and how this affects their own lives.
GREAT BOOK!!!
Usually, I don't read memoirs. I want to say this book was good, but it feels quite strange saying that about the real story of a real person, especially with this topic. Like saying, "Yeah, the tragedies of your life are very entertaining."
It is the type of book that leaves you feeling empty because it's over, and you don't want it to be over. Nina has a way with words, she is a very good writer! I like the way she tells her narrative, dropping hints and then returning to give us the full picture.
This book is about addiction, like so many others before it. However, from a different perspective, through the eyes of the person who loves the addict. I think the story is about love and the constant pursuit of love and wanting to be loved. And what do you do when love is intertwined with codependence? It was sometimes difficult to believe these people were real, it felt like something out of a movie. I believe the book does an excellent job of depicting the harsh reality of addiction without dehumanizing the addict and giving a voice to those whose work is often invisible, often women, who care for the addict, love him, support him, and believe in him, and how this affects their own lives.
GREAT BOOK!!!
July 18, 2022
4.5 stars. Nina Renata Aron writes with her heart and the murky intensity of feelings are deftly suffused in her account of her life living alongside addicts and struggling with codependency. Her book is searing and strong, the title already gives you a suggestion of its character and magnetism. Her writing is lucid and shot through with with silvers of lyricism.
The act of memoir writing always includes the inevitable transmuting of lived pain into something else or more, but Nina shines with self-awareness that does not descend into cloying platitudes even as she tries to make sense of a life lived in bursts of joy and pain. In her closing pages, she revels in the rewards of a well-tended life and how she finds life opening up to her gradually. I think this book is well-tended and heartfelt, Nina has a true skill of translating daily life and struggles into something true, pained, and beautiful. There’s a lot of insight to be gained from reading this but most memorably for me, I come out of this reading experience in awe with her ability to write sentences that hold you longer than the time you take to read it.
The act of memoir writing always includes the inevitable transmuting of lived pain into something else or more, but Nina shines with self-awareness that does not descend into cloying platitudes even as she tries to make sense of a life lived in bursts of joy and pain. In her closing pages, she revels in the rewards of a well-tended life and how she finds life opening up to her gradually. I think this book is well-tended and heartfelt, Nina has a true skill of translating daily life and struggles into something true, pained, and beautiful. There’s a lot of insight to be gained from reading this but most memorably for me, I come out of this reading experience in awe with her ability to write sentences that hold you longer than the time you take to read it.
October 16, 2020
4.5 stars. Beautifully written book about addiction, codependency, and the history of it all. It ties in how a lot of AA and Al-Anon came to be, her personal story, and so much more. While I didn’t always personally relate to every situation, it is overall very relatable. I found many concepts and stories where I finally started figuring out things about myself. There is so much to unpack here that I will likely need to re-read this again to grasp all the concepts. I don’t think I’ve read anything like this and I hope there are more books like this instead of the stereotypical self-help books.
January 12, 2021
While initially drawn in by the title, you will certainly stay for the writing and story. I love reading about addiction, especially in the more mundane and suburban day to day ways we don't see splattered on the news. I absolutely loved how raw and real this author was in explaining the origins of codependency, AA meetings, alcoholism, drug addiction etc, while also weaving in her incredibly captivating personal experience in grappling with loving addicts throughout her life.
May 3, 2020
Nina Renata Aron's Good Morning, Destroyer of Men's Souls was, for me, a deeply affecting book. More than a memoir of codependency, its narrative encompasses themes of love, family and self-actualization, woven together with honesty, tenderness and frank but gorgeous prose.
As is noted in the blurbs and other reviews, the linchpin of the book is Aron's codependent relationship with her addicted lover, K. Our understanding of this relationship is framed in the context of Aron's upbringing. She paints a vivid portrait her older sister, Lucia, who also experienced addiction. I found Lucia to be one of the most compelling characters in the book, the result of Aron's deftly detailing the charismatic parts of Lucia's personality, the magnetic as well as the repellent. Another character who informed Aron's journey is her Nanny, and one of the most poignant parts of the book is when her Nanny described what happened the last evening her husband (Aron's grandfather) was alive. Without spoiling it, I will say that I wept openly, viewing this as a beautiful communication between two souls who knew what was to come, even though their minds did not.
Aron also offers us a compelling--though maddeningly incomplete--view of K. Perhaps this was intentional; perhaps it speaks to the fact that, even after more than a decade of loving him, his depths and inner workings were still a mystery to her (as is the case for many--most?--of our relationships). Even the endpoint of his narrative is ambiguous.
What is NOT ambiguous is Aron's journey into a greater understanding of herself. She states in the book that she does not believe in God, yet to me the heart of this book is her spiritual journey from aspects of self-loathing to the belief (soul understanding) that she deserves love and joy, and that one can't truly receive them from others until one gives them to oneself. Many of life's experiences and lessons exist to make us aware of this: Ultimately, love is ALL that matters--unconditional love of others, and of self.
This book will be of great interest, I suspect, to those who are in or have navigated the codependent waters. But the material supersedes that audience; it is a moving tour de force of a story about one woman's journey into discovering herself, a journey that intersects and connects intimately with the paths each of us walks. A beautiful work.
My thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an ARC.
As is noted in the blurbs and other reviews, the linchpin of the book is Aron's codependent relationship with her addicted lover, K. Our understanding of this relationship is framed in the context of Aron's upbringing. She paints a vivid portrait her older sister, Lucia, who also experienced addiction. I found Lucia to be one of the most compelling characters in the book, the result of Aron's deftly detailing the charismatic parts of Lucia's personality, the magnetic as well as the repellent. Another character who informed Aron's journey is her Nanny, and one of the most poignant parts of the book is when her Nanny described what happened the last evening her husband (Aron's grandfather) was alive. Without spoiling it, I will say that I wept openly, viewing this as a beautiful communication between two souls who knew what was to come, even though their minds did not.
Aron also offers us a compelling--though maddeningly incomplete--view of K. Perhaps this was intentional; perhaps it speaks to the fact that, even after more than a decade of loving him, his depths and inner workings were still a mystery to her (as is the case for many--most?--of our relationships). Even the endpoint of his narrative is ambiguous.
What is NOT ambiguous is Aron's journey into a greater understanding of herself. She states in the book that she does not believe in God, yet to me the heart of this book is her spiritual journey from aspects of self-loathing to the belief (soul understanding) that she deserves love and joy, and that one can't truly receive them from others until one gives them to oneself. Many of life's experiences and lessons exist to make us aware of this: Ultimately, love is ALL that matters--unconditional love of others, and of self.
This book will be of great interest, I suspect, to those who are in or have navigated the codependent waters. But the material supersedes that audience; it is a moving tour de force of a story about one woman's journey into discovering herself, a journey that intersects and connects intimately with the paths each of us walks. A beautiful work.
My thanks to NetGalley and the publisher for an ARC.
June 30, 2020
This book. There is so, so much here. Fingers crossed we get to read a whole book by this author on motherhood. And on love. And on romantic relationships and marriage. And on divorce. And on place. And home. And on gender roles and families and on anything else she is willing to consider deeply and put on paper. I’d read at least a long-form essay expanding on her experience of having “help” (finally) with the never-ending doing of dishes that is shared living.
The author’s combination of real-deal-not-just-buzzword-level vulnerability in her writing, her open book detailing of her imperfect way of being in the world (hello all of us), coupled with her consideration of big questions and history and society and culture and contexts big and small in relation to her lived experience...YUM. I could eat up a zillion books like this. Dear Nina Renata Aron, More please.
P.S. I recognize that many Goodreaders use the book review option to share their perceptions of an author as a person, whether they like the person an author shows herself/himself/themselves to be. I get that. I do it, or at least I think about doing it, too. I don’t even know, generally, what I think about this practice one way or the other.
But in reference to reviewers of this particular book focused solely on judging negatively the author’s life, choices, lens, etc., I think they’re missing the point, or, at least, a central point of this specific book.
(Also, if spending time and wondering and learning with perfect people in aspirational contexts is one’s comfort zone, maybe spend less time reading certain books and more time on Instagram or Facebook. This book includes a genuine offering of a flawed, messy, ever-evolving personal story, which is, of course, the kind of personal story that is real.)
The author’s combination of real-deal-not-just-buzzword-level vulnerability in her writing, her open book detailing of her imperfect way of being in the world (hello all of us), coupled with her consideration of big questions and history and society and culture and contexts big and small in relation to her lived experience...YUM. I could eat up a zillion books like this. Dear Nina Renata Aron, More please.
P.S. I recognize that many Goodreaders use the book review option to share their perceptions of an author as a person, whether they like the person an author shows herself/himself/themselves to be. I get that. I do it, or at least I think about doing it, too. I don’t even know, generally, what I think about this practice one way or the other.
But in reference to reviewers of this particular book focused solely on judging negatively the author’s life, choices, lens, etc., I think they’re missing the point, or, at least, a central point of this specific book.
(Also, if spending time and wondering and learning with perfect people in aspirational contexts is one’s comfort zone, maybe spend less time reading certain books and more time on Instagram or Facebook. This book includes a genuine offering of a flawed, messy, ever-evolving personal story, which is, of course, the kind of personal story that is real.)
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