Anyone who has faced insomnia will know that the appropriately named “witching” hours unleash an angry, ruminative, restless self. This wild, disinhibited self, so desperate as to bargain with a devil for just a moment’s sleep, Annabel Abbs titles the Night Self. And rather than fearing it, she invites the reader to lean right in.
Sleepless is Abbs’s attempt to make peace with her wakeful Night Self, which has emerged in force following a spate of bereavements. She encourages women, who are affected disproportionately by sleeplessness, to follow her in this mission. The author is clear, however, that this is not a “paean to insomnia”. Her “journey was precipitated not chosen” and she is aware of (although she often overlooks) the harmful symptoms of chronic sleeplessness.
I wonder then, if the book is rather a paean to the “ugly” nature of womanhood. The irrational, disobedient, reckless, creative self that the author claims emerges in the darker hours when activity in the amygdala is suppressed and the prefrontal cortex in partial hibernation. If so, I wish she had allowed her lyrical prose to become more infused with this radical self. To ignite the reader’s Night Self, rather than gently coaxing it free. A conversation with night-time walking guide Caroline Whiteman, whose blunt admission that women don’t walk at night because they are “terrified of being raped and murdered” is perhaps the closest we come to this brazenness.
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Whiteman is one of many characters that feature in this book, which traverses memoir, popular science and cultural history. Extensive research illustrates the lives of numerous nocturnal creatures – most of whom female – ranging from literary figures to marine biologists to moths. The abundant examples illustrate the value many women have found historically in embracing their Night Selves, including Sylvia Plath, Louise Bourgeois and pacifist Peace Pilgrim. Her own research for the book is considerable, and includes a trip to the Arctic Circle, and urban and forest night walks, all of which aid her in coming to an acceptance of the dark hours during which sleep is elusive, and the darkness that sleeps within her.
I found the scope of the book a little too broad. I craved more depth, willing Abbs to dive into the terrifying belly of darkness. For readers seeking solace in the face of insomnia, perhaps this book may have more to offer.
