I am reading another book, a book that is relatively well-written. It is one that I bought from Amazon for a book-buying-review club. I buy a book and write a review. In turn another author will buy my book and write a review. The only rules are that we can’t review each other’s books, a no-no in Amazon’s world. A second rule is that you must first post a review of someone’s book before you can offer a book for sale to the group. Then you buy another book post-review before posting your book for consideration. In addition, no more than two books [two copies] may be offered at a time. It works, although sometimes rather quite slowly. All that said, I want to get back to the book I am currently reading.
The book is a fantasy book with the usual collection of good and evil figures mixed in with plenty of magic. The usual mad dash across vast landscapes, typically only steps ahead of the forces of darkness, keeps a reader’s interest. However, for me, I can’t help but read with a critical eye. For example, in this story are fairies, those folk with wings. I am partial to fairies and am always glad to have them appear in a story. However, there is one thing that always bugs me. The authors typically ask us to suspend critical thinking and laws of physics. Wings don’t sprout out of one’s clothing.
I don’t know about you, but it makes perfect sense to me to have a fairy, male or female, clothing top free when their wings are present. The author of this story simply has the clothing change colour when the wings manifest themselves. As well, the author would have me believe that these fairies can manifest as birds, or other wildlife such as wolves, horses, or whatever. In these changed manifestations, the fairies appear as normal wildlife, no clothing evident at all. But the moment they return to their natural state as fairies, they are fully clothed in their wondrous raiment.
Why are authors so reluctant to use the opportunity to be more believable? In my stories in which their is a goddess or a god, they naturally appear while in their godly state, fully nude. Prosaic human cloth has no claim on deities. Attitudes to the natural state by these speculative beings are never tinged with shame. Our artists and sculptors of the past rarely conceived of a god or a goddess encumbered by clothing. Yet, most authors can barely conceive that any character, male or female, goddess or peasant could ever be without their clothing.
In my opinion, this is one strength that naturist fiction has over traditional fiction, allowing common sense and the godliness of the naked human form to find a rightful place in the stories being written. Just before I end this post, I do encourage you to write reviews for books you read, especially our naturist fiction. Without reviews, Amazon likes to hide the books – it’s called working with algorithms if we want our books to be more easily found. Of course, that also means that you buy and read our books [wink, wink}.
Now, I wish you a Happy New Year, with many opportunities to be blessed with being in your natural, unclothed state.
5 thoughts on “Common Sense and Clothing”
Disney’s Little Mermaid all over again … Shells as a bikini top? Why not just a bare chest without emphasis of the breast?
Totally exactly my feelings on the topic, Robert. I’ve been thinking about the very same thing lately!
Very pertinent observations – it seems like such a contrived way to get around natural nudity. Thanks for posting this! And also thanks for finding those images of nude female and male fairies that illustrate your point perfectly.
🙂 i always wondered the same thing. when i was a kid, there was a giant sofa painting of a guardian angel at a neighbor’s house, wrapped to the max, and i’d sit looking at it and wonder… hmm. i was like 4 so “wtf” didn’t exist for me yet.
Try Robert Silverberg’s _Nightwings_. While still stretching aerodynamics / biodynamics, the need to shed clothing in order to fly is addressed sensibly.
As to fairies, and being somewhat Devil’s Advocate, why can’t they wear halter-neck backless clothes?
Another SF tale I read (can’t remember title or author, sorry) included humanoid flyers, who had no problem flying naked because the effort involved in flying meant the body got very hot. Note the largest birds either don’t fly, or do very little flapping – instead soaring on locked wings, reducing energy output, so their feather coats aren’t over-insulating them.
Muriel Spark’s first literary success, the short story _The Seraph and the Zambezi_ features an angel, but I can’t remember if he wears anything, just that at one point he is white hot.
Oh, a belated Happy New Year to all!