Précis — July 23, 2013, 1:00 pm

Writers Go in Search of a Good Night’s Sleep

We asked some of our favorite writers how they were sleeping. Their responses ranged from the personal, to the scientific, to the historical.

“I wake up neither because of my will nor because of anyone else’s. I wake up because my body wakes to attend to the child’s body,” writes Sarah Manguso, beautifully expressing a new mother’s altered relationship to sleep. “I await his next cry. My body rises and moves down the hall carrying me with it.” She ends her poetic essay thusly: “I’m growing accustomed to living in this new body, newly capable of briefer, shallower, broken sleep — a mother’s body, a machine designed to wake up.”

New York–area readers: Please join us at McNally Jackson Books in SoHo on Wednesday, July 31, at 7 p.m. for Sleeping With Harper’s Magazine: Authors in search of a good night’s rest. Details are here.

Historian A. Roger Ekirch informs readers that sleeping through the night is a modern idea: “Unlike the seamless slumber we strive to achieve, sleep once commonly consisted of two major intervals, a ‘first sleep’ and a ‘second sleep.’ ” In the hour of wakefulness in between, “people did practically everything imaginable” — including have sex, whose timing in the wee hours, Ekirch reports, was believed by some to increase fertility.

“I heard about gaboxadol and decided I had to try it,” writes Hamilton Morris of a rare chemical remedy for insomnia that, though it is nowhere near being approved by the U.S. Food and Drug Administration, could be an improvement over Ambien, Valium, and Xanax. But what really appeals to Morris is the hallucinogenic delirium gaboxadol is said to induce. The intrepid reporter scores some: “In my darkened bedroom,” he writes, “I could hear otherworldly music emanating from the motor of a box fan, the white-noise buzzing slowing, taking on the character of an electric viola, the room’s various shadows animated by strange movements as if cast by a flickering candle—but none of this proved distracting.” Morris finds that gaboxadol is indeed the perfect hypnotic.

Rebecca Solnit wonders about the inner lives of the CEOs and world leaders who view their sleeplessness as a proud symbol of their industriousness. “They’re subjected to the same sleep deprivation as the prisoners at Guantanamo, and it affects them in similar ways,” she writes. “Sleep and dreams are the wilderness of the mind. The rulers of the world are probably eyeing that land as something that can be harnessed for production; the torturers must see it as enemy territory to be napalmed and carpet combed”

“I tell myself it’s a virtue, my failure to sleep in my own house, or at all,” writes Heidi Julavits, describing her nocturnal life as a “sleep hunter,” wandering from room to room in her Maine house with a flashlight, a bottle of pills, two pillows and a blanket. This is a lovely evocation of the perils of family life: the deep care we feel for those we love, and the anxiety that can sometimes cause.

“I’m not talking about noise. Think of the rackets you’ve slept through,” writes Deb Olin Unferth, kept up at night by fighting neighbors who doom her to “the sleeplessness of the exiled, the expat, the atheist, the existentialist, the incarcerated.” She called the police who came a few times and then stopped, the landlord stopped taking her calls, even her friends stopped speaking to her due to the long incoherent emails she wrote throughout the night. “Sleeplessness can do a number on you,” she writes. “It goes on too long and that posture becomes your personality.”

“It is always preferable to have something, or someone, to blame. At midcentury we faulted mother,” writes Christine Smallwood in her history of bed-wetting cures, which leads from ancient methods (directing the child to consume the testicles of a hedgehog) to present-day behavioral training, barbaric in its own right. “Tonight in America, 5 million of these wetters will worry themselves to sleep,” she writes, “many of them lying atop rubber sheets, moisture alarms clipped, velcroed, or otherwise fastened to their pajamas.”

“As much as I want to help my clients, I don’t empathize with them,” writes author Rebecca Curtis, who also works as a holistic nutritionist. “They cannot sleep; I can. They want to; I don’t. I hate to sleep, especially if I’m alone.” As she reviews a variety of homeopathic remedies, Curtis reveals the fears and loneliness that make her want to stay awake. “The idea of turning off my life and opening up my subconscious, my dreams, and my self (soul?) is so abhorrent to me,” she confesses, “that I have slept with the bedroom light on for the past six years.”

Gideon Lewis-Kraus writes of his experience at a Tokyo cuddle café, where a small membership fee and thirty dollars buys a man forty minutes of sleeping time with a young pajama-clad woman. Sexual overtures are forbidden, though for ten dollars you can stare into your sleep partner’s eyes or have her pat you on the head. “Here you do pure things,” explains Lewis-Kraus’s partner. “Men come here want time, relax time. It’s like being in their room in their house. Bed is best relax item.”

Share
Single Page

More from Harper’s Magazine:

Weekly Review October 16, 2018, 12:44 am

Weekly Review

Nikki Haley resigns; Jamal Khashoggi murdered; Kanye visits the White House

Podcast October 12, 2018, 2:10 pm

Fall Books and Rachel Kushner

On Lacy M. Johnson’s The Reckonings, Rebecca Traister’s Good and Mad, and Kristen M. Ghoddsee’s Why Women Have Better Sex Under Socialism; plus: an interview with the author of The Mars Room

Weekly Review October 10, 2018, 11:45 am

Weekly Review

Kavanaugh is confirmed; Earth’s governments are given 12 years to get climate change under control; Bansky trolls Sotheby’s

Get access to 168 years of
Harper’s for only $45.99

United States Canada

CATEGORIES

THE CURRENT ISSUE

November 2018

Rebirth of a Nation

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

The Tragedy of Ted Cruz

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

view Table Content

FEATURED ON HARPERS.ORG

Article
Rebirth of a Nation·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Donald Trump’s presidency signals a profound but inchoate realignment of American politics. On the one hand, his administration may represent the consolidation of minority control by a Republican-dominated Senate under the leadership of a president who came to office after losing the popular vote by almost 3 million ballots. Such an imbalance of power could lead to a second civil war—indeed, the nation’s first and only great fraternal conflagration was sparked off in part for precisely this reason. On the other hand, Trump’s reign may be merely an interregnum, in which the old white power structure of the Republican Party is dying and a new oppositional coalition struggles to be born.

Illustration by Taylor Callery (detail)
Article
Blood Money·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

Over the past three years, the city of South Tucson, Arizona, a largely Latino enclave nestled inside metropolitan Tucson, came close to abolishing its fire and police departments. It did sell off the library and cut back fire-truck crews from four to three people—whereupon two thirds of the fire department quit—and slashed the police force to just sixteen employees. “We’re a small city, just one square mile, surrounded by a larger city,” the finance director, Lourdes Aguirre, explained to me. “We have small-town dollars and big-city problems.”

Illustration by John Ritter (detail)
Article
The Tragedy of Ted Cruz·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

When I saw Ted Cruz speak, in early August, it was at Underwood’s Cafeteria in Brownwood. He was on a weeklong swing through rural central Texas, hitting small towns and military bases that ensured him friendly, if not always entirely enthusiastic, crowds. In Brownwood, some in the audience of two hundred were still nibbling on peach cobbler as Cruz began with an anecdote about his win in a charity basketball game against ABC’s late-night host Jimmy Kimmel. They rewarded him with smug chuckles when he pointed out that “Hollywood celebrities” would be hurting over the defeat “for the next fifty years.” His pitch for votes was still an off-the-rack Tea Party platform, complete with warnings about the menace of creeping progressivism, delivered at a slightly mechanical pace but with lots of punch. The woman next to me remarked, “This is the fire in the gut! Like he had the first time!” referring to Cruz’s successful long-shot run in the 2011 Texas Republican Senate primary. And it’s true—the speech was exactly like one Cruz would have delivered in 2011, right down to one specific detail: he never mentioned Donald Trump by name.

Cruz recited almost verbatim the same things Trump lists as the administration’s accomplishments: the new tax legislation, reduced African-American unemployment, repeal of the Affordable Care Act’s individual mandate, and Neil Gorsuch’s appointment to the Supreme Court. But, in a mirror image of those in the #Resistance who refuse to ennoble Trump with the title “president,” Cruz only called him that.

Photograph of Ted Cruz © Ben Helton (detail)
Article
Wrong Object·

= Subscribers only.
Sign in here.
Subscribe here.

H

e is a nondescript man.

I’d never used that adjective about a client. Not until this one. My seventeenth. He’d requested an evening time and came Tuesdays at six-thirty. For months he didn’t tell me what he did.

The first session I said what I often said to begin: How can I help you?

I still think of what I do as a helping profession. And I liked the way the phrase echoed down my years; in my first job I’d been a salesgirl at a department store counter.

I want to work on my marriage, he said. I’m the problem.

His complaint was familiar. But I preferred a self-critical patient to a blamer.

It’s me, he said. My wife is a thoroughly good person.

Yawn, I thought, but said, Tell me more.

I don’t feel what I should for her.

What do you feel?

Photograph © Joseph S. Giacalone (detail)

Percentage of Aquarians who are Democrats:

47

Scolded dogs look guiltier if they are actually innocent.

Nikki Haley resigns; Jamal Khashoggi murdered; Kanye visits the White House

Subscribe to the Weekly Review newsletter. Don’t worry, we won’t sell your email address!

HARPER’S FINEST

Happiness Is a Worn Gun

By

Illustration by Stan Fellows

Illustration by Stan Fellows

“Nowadays, most states let just about anybody who wants a concealed-handgun permit have one; in seventeen states, you don’t even have to be a resident. Nobody knows exactly how many Americans carry guns, because not all states release their numbers, and even if they did, not all permit holders carry all the time. But it’s safe to assume that as many as 6 million Americans are walking around with firearms under their clothes.”

Subscribe Today