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In one of Sophie Calle\u2019s first artistic experiments, she invited twenty-seven friends, acquaintances, and strangers to sleep in her bed. She photographed them awake and asleep, secretly recording any private conversation once the door closed. She served each a meal and, if they agreed, subjected them to a questionnaire that probed their personal predilections, habits, and dreams. The following text is Calle\u2019s narrative report of her fifth guest\u2019s stay, and is the third in a series of four excerpts from the project to be published this week on the<\/i> Daily. Earlier installments: <\/em>\u201cThird Sleeper<\/a>\u201d and \u201cFourth Sleeper<\/a>.\u201d\u00a0<\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n I barely know him. We saw each other, one time, several years ago now, at the home of a mutual friend. That friend told him about my idea. G\u00e9rard Maillet calls me to offer his services. He wants to be paid\u2014a symbolic sum. He says he\u2019s unemployed, that any time works for him. He\u2019ll sleep Monday, April 2, from 5 P.M.<\/small> to midnight.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n He arrives Monday, April 2, at 5 P.M.<\/small> He waits until Rachel Sindler has left the bedroom to get settled. I show him the set of clean sheets. I leave.<\/p>\n At five fifteen, I return. He\u2019s in the bed. He hasn\u2019t changed the sheets. His shoulders are bare. His head rests on the pillow. He asks about my use of the formal \u201cvous.\u201d I explain the necessity of keeping my distance from the sleepers. He tells me about his complicated relationship to work. He has a hard time accepting the idea that intellectual labor is labor. So he finds it especially interesting to be encouraged to consider sleep as a form of work. That\u2019s why he asked to be paid. But the people he spoke to about it, who don\u2019t share the same hangup \u2026 He doesn\u2019t finish his sentence. He tells me about one of his friends, a Mobylette courier, who said, \u201cIf that girl has time and money to waste, there are better things to do.\u201d He, the friend, would have organized a soup kitchen for drug addicts. Apparently that\u2019s his obsession\u2014soup kitchens for drug addicts. G\u00e9rard Maillet continues. Throughout his monologue, these words often recur: perversion<\/em>, forbidden<\/em>, superfluous<\/em>, eroticism<\/em>.<\/p>\n He comments on the bed, which is warm. On the smell of perfume.<\/p>\n At eighteen, he met a superb woman, a model. She lived two hundred meters from his high school. And one day he found himself in her home, in her bed. It earned him a prestigious reputation among his friends. They said, \u201cG\u00e9rard, what a stud!\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cWhat actually happened is that we slept like brother and sister. I don\u2019t know why exactly.\u201d<\/p>\n I propose that G\u00e9rard Maillet answer my questionnaire.<\/p>\n What is his name? What is his age? Can he give me a brief description of his past?<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cG\u00e9rard Maillet, twenty-six years old. I have two brothers. Until the age of eighteen, I lived in Paris, with my parents. What else can I say? Still in school. A series of odd jobs. For the last three years, contracts for sociological research.\u201d<\/p>\n G\u00e9rard Maillet adds that now he has a two-bedroom apartment in the twelfth arrondissement. He calls it an upgrade.<\/p>\n Is sleep a source of pleasure or a waste of time for him?<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s a refuge, a way to regulate internal tensions. I\u2019m a hedonist. Sleep is important to restore our health, turn the page, and\u2014\u201d I interrupt him.<\/p>\n How would he describe his sleep?<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cI would say, ecological. As soon as I decide to go to bed, it happens.\u201d<\/p>\n Does he need absolute darkness to fall asleep?<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cIt\u2019s not a necessity, more of a habit and a form of security. The dark is\u2014\u201d I interrupt him.<\/p>\n Does he talk in his sleep?<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cNo, but I grind my teeth.\u201d He tries to continue, but I cut him off once again. I want everything to move faster. It\u2019s not information or a conversation that I\u2019m looking for. He seems to understand. His responses become more brief.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I obtain the following information: He sleeps in the fetal position. He doesn\u2019t have a difficult time waking up. He doesn\u2019t like to sleep in a bed situated in the middle of a room. He can fall asleep despite noise as long as it\u2019s regular. My presence does not risk disturbing his sleep. He does not disguise himself for sleep. The used sheets do not disgust him. He likes to sleep alone. He can\u2019t stand sleeping with clothes on. He can undress in front of strangers. He does not pee the bed. He bathes often. He wears cologne. He doesn\u2019t masturbate in the morning upon waking, or at night before going to sleep. He likes animals. He thinks that the same smells can be either erotic or unpleasant. His fondest nocturnal memories are not of nights sleeping. He doesn\u2019t have noteworthy dreams to recount. For him, sleep is priceless. He wants me to wait in the room until he falls asleep.<\/p>\n Is he aware that he is performing a job by coming to sleep?<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cI am convinced.\u201d<\/p>\n Does he have the impression that he is making art?<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cNo. I am participating in a job. It\u2019s not for me to say whether it\u2019s art. The purpose is none of my business.\u201d<\/p>\n What would be appropriate remuneration for his presence in this bed?<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cA certificate to the effect that I performed sleep labor. Written proof that I was employed. A signature.\u201d<\/p>\n Payment?<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cYes, symbolic.\u201d<\/p>\n What does he think of the person who preceded him in this bed?<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cIt was a pleasant meeting. A positive start.\u201d<\/p>\n How does he imagine the person who will replace him?<\/em><\/p>\n \u201cI have very little imagination.\u201d<\/p>\n 6 P.M.<\/small> The questionnaire is over. I thank him for responding so conscientiously. I wish him a pleasant sleep. I leave the bedroom.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Soon after, I return. He\u2019s sleeping. I sit in an armchair that I leave only for brief moments. I remain by his side. He turns his back to me. I watch him. His presence in my bed seems in no way implausible. I hardly dare move. I watch over him. I\u2019m not tired; it\u2019s relaxing to watch him sleep. I photograph him every hour. At 11 P.M.<\/small>, I wake him up.<\/p>\n I place a tray of food on the floor: ham, eggs, macaroni. I return to my armchair. I call him softly. He doesn\u2019t move. I repeat his name. He lets out a sigh, turns around. He sits up.<\/p>\n Me: Did you have a good night?<\/p>\n Him: Yes, I did my best.<\/p>\n Me: I was here the whole time.<\/p>\n Him: Good.<\/p>\n We speak more and more softly. Meanwhile, his meal gets cold. He asks for water and I go fetch it. I sing in the stairwell. When I return, he yawns languorously. I tell him that I listened to his breathing. He asks if he snored.<\/p>\n \u201cNo, you were breathing softly. I could have fallen asleep.\u201d<\/p>\n He asks me not to record the rest of our conversation. I obey. He confides.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n At midnight, the arrival of Graziella Rampacci, who will take the next shift, and Fran\u00e7oise Jourdan-Gassin, who accompanies her. Graziella goes immediately, at my request, to the bedroom occupied by G\u00e9rard Maillet. Fran\u00e7oise and I wait a few moments before joining her.<\/p>\n Listening to the tape:<\/em><\/p>\n G\u00e9rard yawns, stretches, coughs.<\/p>\n Graziella knocks three times on the door. She enters.<\/p>\n Her: Hello, I\u2019m here to take your place.<\/p>\n Him: Very good.<\/p>\n He says he didn\u2019t really have time to sleep. She pities him for having to come during the day. She wouldn\u2019t have been able to. She adds, \u201cWell, I was told to come in here, so that there would be contact. I\u2019d like to know what we\u2019re supposed to talk about, you, a stranger who\u2019s just woken up, and me, tired from a long and difficult day.\u201d<\/p>\n He thinks that the obvious common ground is the bed. Graziella admires the paintings hung on the wall. He finds the bedroom intimate enough for \u2026<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Accompanied by Fran\u00e7oise, I enter, after knocking. I ask whether they\u2019ve met.<\/p>\n Him: I didn\u2019t even introduce myself\u2014G\u00e9rard.<\/p>\n Her: And I\u2019m Graziella Ram-pa-cci.<\/p>\n I want to take a photo of Graziella and G\u00e9rard together. She asks if she should lie down. We leave the bedroom, let him get dressed.<\/p>\n My father\u2019s robe has been left on an armchair. He puts it on. He goes to take a bath. Meanwhile, the two young women settle into the bed after changing the sheets.<\/p>\n A half-hour later, G\u00e9rard Maillet returns to say his goodbyes. He wants to stay in the bedroom while I interview them. They agree.<\/p>\n At two in the morning, he leaves. I walk him to the door. I don\u2019t pay him. (I will rectify this oversight.) I thank him for granting me a few hours of his sleep.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n