For those who like this kind of literature!

I feel bad by the hypocrisy of religious practice, both Protestant and Catholic, who invaded this book because it opens no light. So I understand that the author has reduced the title to part of the quote from Victor Hugo; Each in his night goes to his light ..

The good and evil continues in endless ways of life of the characters, without hope, without (good) faith, but shamelessly indecent sex, invaded by their discomfort as the winter fog that smothers all colors.

Julien Green shows off his own being entangled between his Catholicism chosen and assumed his homosexuality, sad very surprising personality to a courageous man during the war. Then his rickety life without bright horizon, without wonder and perhaps without eternity in God deserved it living?

His only interest is it a work delicately foul stenches without delight out the quality of writing that brilliantly sketched by successive touches decadent characters, too rich to be happy, too self-centered to get out of their communitarianism multifaceted, too beasts to pretend to be human. With the agonizing death as perspective.