“Sleepless Nights” Annotated Bibliography

Hardwick, Elizabeth. Sleepless Nights. New York: Random House, 1979. Print.

Summary

Sleepless Nights by Elizabeth Hardwick follows the narrative of a character by the same name as the author– Elizabeth. Elizabeth recalls her past– all of the places she’s lived, people who have made a great impact on her, and how she’s changed and evolved. This book blurs the lines between fiction and nonfiction, some true events from the life of the author, others fabricated by the narrator.  We meet a lot of people who made a great impact of Elizabeth’s life, see places that she has been and called home at one point or another, and witness events, both good and bad, that shifted everything for her. One detail about this book that makes it incredibly unique, apart from its trapezing the line between narrative and memoir, is the form that it takes on. All of the events are juxtaposed into a collage, making it difficult for the reader to follow a single plot. That has lead to Sleepless Nights being dubbed as “plotless,” while that is not true. As Melanie said,

“plot does not necessarily have to further the events of the narrative, but plot can also correspond with the changes that the narrator faces and their ability of processing these changes. The character of Elizabeth definitely goes through a change through the work. It is the reader that naturally tries to oppose a plot on the text, and is turned away when there is a lack of traditional plot.  The reader wants a logical plot in order to make sense of what the author has written. After all, life is plotless.”

The book does not have an overarching plot that consumes us and our attention, it consists of many little plot events that serve to resolve the narrator’s conflict (although that conflict is entirely inner conflict). the presentation and reflection are the plot for this story. They are just an untraditional plot. We see that every memory tells it’s own story, complete with character, conflict, resolution, and all typical elements we look for in relation to plot. These memories comprise the plot. As Liam pointed out,

“the plot is formed when the reader is able to evaluate Hardwick’s changes in mood and disposition when discussing different events.”

While characters and setting are clear in the book, they are not active. We do not see them in present time. Instead, we witness them through Elizabeth and her reminiscence. Elizabeth recalls stories from life in Kentucky at the Derby to all of the friends she’s had who’ve passed away, and her life in New York. Through these memories, she’s trying to get a better understanding on the quintessence of Elizabeth. The reader must accept that this book not for them, which makes it much harder to become submissive. The audience must understand Elizabeth even though we do not meet her face to face. We must put together this jigsaw of the narrator’s life without directly witnessing any of her life.

Before reading Sleepless Nights the first time, I was expecting that it would be a largely introspective piece that would teach us about writing because that is what reviews of the book put forth. So I went into the book reading for the deeper meaning, reading for what the narrator and the author were trying to make the audience understand about ourselves. However since I was reading with those intentions, I had a guard up against what the book was trying to do. I didn’t let myself be vulnerable to the book because I was aware of the intentions of the author. Prior to reading Sleepless Nights I read primarily for entertainment, but with this book, I find myself reading for its truth, which means I might have missed a lot when I read it– I was fighting back against the text. In actively trying to submit to what I thought the book was supposed to do, I was highly resistant to what it was actually doing. I couldn’t even finish the book.

The second time I read it, I decided to read the introduction, written by Geoffrey O’Brien before restarting the book. I hoped that the introduction would help me access the book, that it would help me understand the purpose and the goal of this book. Spoiler alert: It did.

The introduction gave me a new lens to approach the book with, and this lens was perfect for how I was supposed to be reading it in the first place. (As a writer.) The introduction touched on how the book dealt with form and genre and how it creates the narrator-addressee relationship. It was really helpful for me as I reread the book, and also really cool for me, now that I could actually see all of these elements at play and was reading as a writer now.

(Disclaimer: I don’t owe this accomplishment entirely to the introduction. This shift in my thinking is probably just because Sleepless Nights was the first book we read and I didn’t quite know what was going on yet, but now that we’ve gone through the whole course and I’ve revisited my book choice, I can apply my newfound knowledge.)

Value graph and controlling values

Below is a value graph of pages 29 to 30, where Elizabeth, the narrator, introduces Billie Holiday:

When describing Billie, Elizabeth says, “And yet the heart always drew back from the power of her will and its engagement with disaster. An inclination bred from punishing experiences compelled her to live gregariously and without affections” (30). This is negatively charged because it explains how Billie was living within the world, surrounded by others, but with no real connections. I don’t doubt that it was her desires for intimacy, or intimacy itself that caused the “punishing experiences,” and now, she suffered in solitude.  Billie had no real relationships, she was merely passing through life. She lived in sheer loneliness.

However, we then see that it wasn’t always so lonely, or so negative. Elizabeth explains that, “Only a fool imagined that it was necessary to love a man, to love anyone, to love life. Her own people, those around her, feared her” (30). This is positively charged because Billie while she was just gliding through her life, she did it gracefully, and she wanted that independence and solitude that she had. She was empowered, in charge of her own life, and those around her knew it and respected her for that. She may have wanted affection and attention at times, but she enjoyed her independence.

The controlling values at play here seem to surround the pros and cons of intimacy. Those ideas are portrayed by the life of Billie Holiday. Billie never felt that she need a man or anyone in her life, but then she was ashamed by her tendency to push people away and to never allow anyone to get really close to her. “And perhaps even she was often ashamed of the heavy weight of her own spirit, one never tempted to the relief of sentimentality” (30). Billie was aware that she may have been intimidating to some, and sometimes it may have been overwhelming to even her, but for the most part, she was grateful for her solitude and independence, even if it meant sacrificing her ability to form meaningful relationships.  We later see these ideas come to the surface again in the lives of other characters and in Elizabeth herself.

Mel pointed out that, “A lot of what the narrator discusses happens in the past and how those events of trauma have affected her life in the present. This can be seen in the letters that are sent between the narrator and the various recipients of the letters. In these letters, Elizabeth mostly writes about how these past events cause her to become the person she is currently.”

Elizabeth herself is a solitary force, like Billie. She keeps her distance from others so that she can evaluate and reflect on herself. Clearly she values introspection.  But her independence creates a rift between Elizabeth and the people she’s told us about. As the book progresses and we meet more people, this rift becomes more apparent. Elizabeth is more of an outside force. Her reflection becomes much more apparent. She’s not just recounting her stories. She’s truly evolving as both a character narrator and an author.

Form and genre

In defining form, Burke claims that a well-written work will “lead a reader to anticipate another part, to be gratified by the sequence” (124). However, Sleepless Nights’ plot is not as easily detected, as tangible as most other books; its sequence is neither concrete nor chronological. However, this does not mean that its sequence cannot be anticipated by a reader. For example, whenever Elizabeth introduces a new character, the reader can easily predict that person is dead– and they are right. Also, we often see that there is a reference or a quote from another book, followed by a letter to “M” (who I project to be her mother), and then a memory from her past, whether it’s of a friend who died or of a specific place or event. Elizabeth reflects on these things in order to try and understand herself and that she is not really speaking to the audience. These are the repetitive form, which lends itself over to the anticipation of sequence, thus creating a subtle, but nonetheless existent plot.  

Sleepless Nights does not follow conventions of any of the genres it manifests. It truly creates its own form because any genre that I try to attribute to the book, still doesn’t quite fit. But for the sake of discussion, I think the most fitting genre is lyric, which, quite fittingly, is a melting pot of other genres (including, but not limited to poetry, memoir, and essay.)

One characteristic of lyrical writing is that it is pieces woven together to form a bigger picture. That is why I categorize Sleepless Nights as lyric (but not completely– it breaks conventions of lyric.) The glimpses into Elizabeth’s past and brief introductions of people that she has known (and has probably lost) are seamlessly intertwined. Despite the seemingly nonexistent plot, the “mindless” jumping from event to event, place to place, we, the readers are able to understand Elizabeth’s message. Also, with an erratic plot, the reader has to be actively reading and processing each event, or else everything just goes over their head. (I fell victim to that.) Liam said it best:

“The matter in which Hardwick leaps from idea to idea, feeling to feeling, directly mimics her tendency to hop around from place to place in life…. a reader in tune with the messages conveyed by the book will  be better able to understand the narrator’s disposition and tendencies through structure.”

By remaining submissive to the book, and acknowledging the denial of generic conventions, the readers can find the underlying pattern by examining the juxtaposition of each memory and thought, rather than through plot points and character actions. This discovery of the underlying pattern reveals the bigger picture of Sleepless Nights.

Intertextual Codes

The bigger picture of Sleepless Nights is hinted at before we even open the book. As Jesse described in his blog post:

“This title is perfect because it truly does feel like the book was written during sleepless nights when Hardwick could not sleep because so many life memories were invading her counting of sheep jumping the fence. Waking up in the middle of the night only to write these memories down just so she could sleep. These sleepless nights are the kind of nights when you let anyone in and do not care; let it all out and let the world know your stories because it is the dead of night and the mind works differently in those hours.”

The title itself, Sleepless Nights, may have a lot more meaning to it than we think as we mimetically read the book. First, when we consider the structure of the book, the title seems to make sense. Of course this collage of events and people, these troubled memories are what keeps Elizabeth up at night. If she was writing these down just to get some peace of mind, just so she can sleep, of course she wouldn’t connect them. It’s more of a diary, a collection of her nighttime thoughts, meant for herself. In that, the title is a symbolic code. It is all of Elizabeth’s trouble, her insomnia on paper.

Second, we are introduced to two opposing values in the title– right off the bat seeing the twoness evident in Elizabeth’s world. The title alone gives us, as stated by Melanie“sleep vs sleeplessness (or consciousness verses unconsciousness) and night vs day.” This gives us more of the symbolic code present in the title, but also leads us into the cultural code.

There is a preconceived notion that nights are meant for sleeping, days for working, learning, or activity. The title challenges that. It proposes that Elizabeth’s activity, her work happened at night. In this, Elizabeth is challenging the cultural code.

And all of that is just in the title.

The plot offers another code. I am guilty of repeatedly calling the book “plotless,” but I let my projections get the best of me. Now I understand that, while yes, the book does not have an overarching plot that consumes us and our attention, it does consist of many little plot events that serve to resolve the narrator’s conflict (although that conflict is entirely inner conflict). I would argue that the presentation and reflection are the plot for this story. They are just an untraditional plot. We see that every memory tells it’s own story, complete with character, conflict, resolution, and all typical elements we look for in relation to plot. These memories comprise the plot. I wonder if perhaps the mystery of the plot is the hermeneutic code? We have called this book plotless over and over again, wondering if that was the right word, struggling with the idea that a book didn’t have a plot, only to realize, that indeed it does! And the purpose all of this confusion serves is huge and extremely multifaceted.

The Rhetoric of Narrative

At the beginning of this post I stated that Sleepless Nights blurs the lines between narrative and memoir. But that begs the question: where? Where in the book does truth fiction become fake, or vice versa? The reader is intended to understand that at least some part of this book is an autobiography. But there is no way of telling where nonfiction and narrative intersect.  

That gives Elizabeth, the author some liberty in writing not only to write without consequences but also to write without fear of shame or embarrassment. She could omit or add information as she saw fit. It gave her liberty because she could manipulate the truth as she wanted. Also, she didn’t have to take on the responsibility of the stories because of this intersection. She could put the blame or the shame onto Elizabeth, the narrator if she wanted. She created both a bubble and a scapegoat to write behind, to protect herself. As Jesse noted:

“Elizabeth Hardwick puts all the cards on the table by making the story about her, but not about her. Is it an illusion or cowardice to not take full responsibility of the stories if they are in fact true. If she was insecure about one specific story she could respond saying “That one is made up”. The text is almost a mask, when she puts on the mask she can become herself in disguise and her real face is the real mask.”

Does this make Elizabeth an unreliable narrator? Probably. However, that only further develops the story and accomplishes what Elizabeth, the author, intended.

As I said earlier, I was resistant to this book at first. But this book requires the reader to take on the readerly role of the submissive reader. That’s how Elizabeth, the author, succeeds in her intentions. In order to become a submissive reader, in order to let the text work on me I had to do as Elizabeth, the narrator, says: “Borges asks this ‘Are not the fervent Shakespeareans who give themselves over to a line of Shakespeare, are they not, literally, Shakespeare?” (9). We have to give ourselves over to the book, allow ourselves to molded and shaped, slaves to this book, in order to know what is actually going on within Elizabeth. Only then will we truly understand that the plot is within the change, within the development of Elizabeth herself. Only then, will the book work on us.

There is one section of the book that stood out to me, that really drew me in. The narrator reminisces on her past relationship with the singer, Billie Holiday. She paints a picture of the singer, in all of her tragic beauty, and recounts the events of the singer’s life and when they knew one another. Elizabeth, the narrator, uses her accounts of Billie Holiday to show the reader something– that the mind cannot be trusted. This leads the reader to believe that perhaps Elizabeth’s recalling of her past with Billie is not wholly accurate– perhaps she has left gaps in her story. The narrator says,

“Then, showing our fidelity, it seemed that a sort of motif would reveal itself, that under the glaze ancient patterns from a lost world were to be discovered. The mind strains to recover the blank spaces in history and our pale, gray-green eyes looked into her  swimming dark, inconstant pools– and got back nothing.” (30).

Elizabeth tells us that perhaps we cannot trust her story and her memories because she has filled in the gaps with things that are untrue. That’s the beauty in this book. Because it’s a smorgasbord of narrative and memoir, there is no telling what may be true. We, the readers, don’t even know for certain if Elizabeth, the narrator, is intended to be narrating the life of Elizabeth, the author. Elizabeth the narrator may just be mimicking the stories of Elizabeth author and fabrication and creating more stories off of those. There is no certainty. “Truth” is a foreign concept in this book. There is only “what I am being told.” The relative truth. But we, the submissive readers, the narrative audience, take Elizabeth at her word, whether it be true or false.

But the readers also fill in these gaps with things that are also untrue. Every time the story jumps from one sequence to another, one place in time to another story, it leaves an empty space. The reader automatically fills that space with their own projections of what they think happened, of how they think Elizabeth was feeling. We submit to this role, we actively project onto the text because we were asked to by the narrator. We become who the narrator needs us to be, we became “Elizabeth” as we manipulated her story, just as the fervent Shakespeare readers become Shakespeare himself.  

Final Reflection

My growth during this semester has been very apparent to me. I  am aware of my maturation as both a reader and a writer, and I am very appreciative of this experience. It has been a long and trying journey, but we have made to the other side and I am proudly in one piece and feeling more intelligent.

My reading practices have definitely become more “reading for a reason” than “reading for an entertainment.” Now when I read, I look for things like intertextual codes and a narrator-addressee relationship rather than just mindlessly taking in words.

I was made aware of this multiple times. This semester I also took a course called “Writing Children’s Stories.” We had to read multiple books, ranging from picture books to young adult novels. We were told to read these books like a writer and write a reflection. Although it wasn’t necessarily the assignment, I was reading the book and writing my reflection based on the methods we were taught in this course. I found myself finding codes, dissecting the form and genre, reading into the values at play, and analyzing the relationship of the narrator, addressee, and capable audience. I was also doing this when reading and critiquing the work of my peers, and I think it made me more valuable at offering feedback.

In this course, “How Writers Read,”  I increasingly felt more integral in my group, as both a writer and a reader, as the semester went on. At first, I felt overwhelmed by the methods, as though there was no way I would ever be able to grasp the concepts I was being told. But I was indeed able to understand and apply these methods, and become useful in my group, and hopefully useful and knowledgeable enough to lead a group of my own next year.

In our conversations, I felt as though I was helpful in offering insight into another perspective of whichever book we were reading, like when we were working on a value graph, developing a blog, or working on blog comments. There were times when I found myself explaining a concept to the group, and those were the moments that convinced me to be a group leader next year.

In regard to the core values, I feel as though they do reflect how I have grown from this course. The four book we’ve read are all from very different genres and come with very different conventions. They range from memoir to graphic novel, from young adult fiction to poetry. I had to adapt with each book and the conventions by which it was written (or it broke). Also, there were the conventions of blogging that I had to adapt to that were different than writing an academic paper. The blog was an entirely new genre in itself, as were the comments. As I said earlier, I was able to apply the methods I learned in this course into my reading of other’s work. But I was also able to improve my own writing by being conscious of the fact that these methods constitute “good” writing. As I move forward, I will continue to apply these into any field that I may write in. Also, while our texts may not have been as sophisticated as other groups’ books, we were able to find the complexity in them, and we all brought different genres to the table.

Finally, as for the structure of the course, I think it was very beneficial for my own growth and learning. It wasn’t overwhelming, but we all got to write for each book and for in each topic, and I appreciated that. I liked having the time to talk and collaborate with my group. That was very beneficial and was a big part of my growth within the course. The group collaboration is the strongest aspect of this course.

Here’s all of my blog posts:

“Sleepless Nights” Blog #1– September 26, 2016 

“Seconds” Blog #4– October 20, 2016

“Driver’s Ed” Blog #3– November 1, 2016

“Milk and Honey” Blog #2– November 14, 2016

 

While this course may have been a bit stressful or frustrating at times, overall, I am grateful for the experience. I can see the outcomes, how they will benefit me, and help me develop as a writer.