Sleep sweet sleep

In Vitruvius' Rome, there was a rudimentary alarm clock: the water clock. The water clock was equipped with a mechanical arm that threw an egg into the air, or threw a pebble, depending on the sleeper's taste. Those who did not appreciate it could opt for a string tied to the base of a lighted candle that held a weight that plunged into a metal bowl when the lamp had worn out. In later periods the sleepers would have at their disposal the so-called English wean, with a string tied around the big toe ending outside the window and a "knocker-up", otherwise known as a knocker, in charge of pulling the thread. At the time of the Industrial Revolution, when owning an alarm clock was a luxury for the few, in England and Ireland there was the profession of the "knocker-up", i.e. a person in charge of waking up the working class to come to work on time. These human alarm clocks used truncheons, with which they hit the doors of houses, or long sticks, to hit the windows of the upper floors, or the species of peashooters. In 1781, however, a Marseillaise man from Marseilles invented a gun-watch that fired a shot. In the middle of the 19th century at the Leipzig Fair, a system of chimes and levers was exhibited, which suddenly took off the nightcap and sheets. In short, a whole "tourbillon" of efforts and inventions has been developed over the centuries to bring back to active life the humans held in the arms of Morpheus.[Immagine CC0 creative commons][Immagine CC0 creative commons]

Sleep has never been the same in all ages and at all latitudes, and neither has the bed. The bed in ancient Egypt, because of the consideration in which the priests held the dreamlike activity of the pharaohs, quickly established itself as one of the indispensable furnishings. The pharaohs used elegant canopies. The most regal, custom-made for Cheops' mother, is kept in the Cairo Museum. It was so elaborate that it also incorporated an armchair and a “headrest”, to keep the neck stiff so as not to spoil the hairstyle. On the bedside was engraved the image of Seth, the god of darkness who led the sleepers into the realm of dreams, whose associations and puns the priests used to decrypt, anticipating many modern interpretations, even the Freudian one. The Greeks, unlike the Egyptians, dedicated two benevolent gods to sleep: Hypnos, who makes mortals forget all pain, and the malicious Heros, son of Aphrodite. The night protected by this divine duet was perceived as a combination of tenderness and love even though the cockpit in which he rested, placed on the second floor or at the back of the house, was dark, often without openings to defend himself from heat and cold. It was not pleasant, and men only took off their belts and cloaks for the night, while women kept their tunics. The Spartans in the bedroom did not stay there much even on their wedding night. The consort and the wife, almost always very young with their hair cut short for the ceremony like a boy's, used to have lunch with the groom's friends who, after having retired and quickly “unbuckled the young woman's belt”, went back to libations with their whispering companions. The Romans, there is no doubt about it, revered the horizontal position: they spent the whole day lying down, moving from the triclinium three sofas covered in soft U-shaped duvets, each of which housed a banquet hall with which they travelled.

But the actual bed, sometimes placed in a small room illuminated by a little lamp made of tow and wax, the “lucubrum” (hence the lucubrum, the thoughts that appeared between the lush and the brusque), did not give much of their time. Marcus Aurelius wrote that using it during the day for amorous practices with a partner who should never be completely undressed or groped with her left hand was very uncomfortable. It was difficult, finally, in these times to sleep in solitude and serenity. Crouching close to those who rested there were the servants and slaves. The servants, even if put at the door, loved to spy on intercourse and confidential practices, so much so that Pliny the Younger wanted a dividing corridor to avoid indiscretions. In Norway, the dormitories were short benches placed in a wall cupboard. Wardrobes where people would curl up to sleep among the aged cheeses. Wall cabinets then also in Japan. Here were hidden, and are still hidden today, the “futon” the duvets made since the end of the Middle Ages with cotton imported from China, and then taken out in the evening from the time of going to sleep. The bedroom and privacy in the house of the rising sun were not there. From Russia to Sweden, to Finland, people have been snoring and dreaming in large family groups, half-naked on the shelves of tiled stoves. But precisely to protect the little ones and let the adults free in their love games, in southern India among the Muria, a tribal population of the ancient State of Bastar, the ghotul, a mixed dormitory only for children and young people, was established. The search for intimacy has been a centuries-old obsession. Since 1700 the beds were closed, similar to the cabins of a fishing boat, equipped with sliding doors and lined up inside a room. There you undressed one at a time and went inside.

A large funnel, to reduce miasmas, took the air from outside and relieved the heavy “chamber breath” was the ancestor of the air conditioner. But sleep also had its enemies: like mosquitoes. In the Middle Ages, bedrooms were built on towers and terraces to keep mosquitoes away. The expedient used by the fishermen of ancient Egypt who used their nets turned into blankets for the night in the straw mattresses was simpler. Friends of the sleepers, it was believed that, by sucking the impurities of the blood and reconciling the sleep of children, they were fleas and lice. To “blandish” the fleas, a good glass of wine before going to bed was recommended. The bug hunt was open. The real triumph the bedroom will know him in 1600. Owning a wooden column chiselled and decorated with pendentives, velvets, golden knobs and brocades was something worthy of a king like Louis XIV. He would receive the whole day sunk “in the bed of parade”, like Luisa Borbone who from her featherbed attended the masked balls organised in her room. It was unseemly to sit on the coats or roll around with pillows: etiquette between the sheets elaborated strict prohibitions, such as that of tucking one's hands under the blankets even if complacent. This triumph of the bed brought underwear to the pinnacle of success. Underwear flaunted through wide slits in the falsettos, in the sleeves, in the trousers, so that lace and lace leaked out. In women's and men's nightgowns, the “plissé” collar was enormous, which is why they used long-handled spoons to eat on their backs without soiling themselves. The bed thus became the substitute for the square and welcomed friends, suitors, questors, sellers and creditors.

By Kork75!