On what makes a story "furry"
15 years ago
General
(crossposted here from Alexandria2 because this is really more of a polemic)
What makes a story "furry"? This is a somewhat contentious issue, and people can get a bit tetchy about it. There is a continuum of sorts, situated between two diametric propositions:
A. It doesn't matter at all; any story with anthropomorphic characters in it is "furry";
B. There is an intrinsic furry character to stories, pursuing it should be the goal, and stories in which the characters do not, ipso facto, have to be anthropomorphic are not "furry".
The traditional literary view of the fandom cleaves to the latter point of view, and this is also the perspective advanced by the fandom's leading writing demagogues. In this line of reasoning, stories in which the characters are furry but do not have to be for the plot's sake are labelled as "human in fursuit" or "zipperback" stories.
There is something to this point of view. In particular, given that furry stories tend to exist within their own little ghetto, it's plainly apparent that someone who writes furry characters when they could be using humans is making their life a lot harder for no good reason, if their eventual aim is publication or appeal to a general audience.
Too, the history of anthropomorphic writing is broadly characterised by anthropomorphism as a trope—that is to say, by people using the non-human nature of the characters to make a point, or to draw on the established semiotic value of the species. This is true from Kipling to the Kzinti, and it suggests that anthro fiction does and can be inherently furry, such that losing that aspect changes the work substantially.
But should it? And, more to the point, must it?
The "B" end of the continuum would answer both of these questions as "yes". On the other hand, there is a certain... high-mindedness to this notion. It creates a "no true Scotsman" scenario in which anthro fiction is somewhat arbitrarily defined—how much characterisation is sufficient? Any? Is it important only that the characters not be human, or must they also be locked in by self-definition to their individual species, as well?
It helps that, to be brutally honest, much if not most of the furry writing community may profess to be in camp "B" but is actually camp "A". The bulk of the fandom's work, sampled at places like FurAffinity and Yiffstar, is only debatably intrinsically furry. Most of it is simply declaratory: "these characters are anthropomorphic, the end." Want to argue with it? Take it up with the author. Is this good enough?
I'm going to start by advancing two moderately radical answers. Must the characters in a "furry" story be inherently furry? No. Should they? Not necessarily.
Why mustn't they be? I propose three reasons.
One, it imposes an absurd double standard. I'm not aware of any serious artistic thread in the furry community that suggests that furry artwork depict characters engaged in activities that are inherently animalistic, or that artists who choose to depict animals in human settings might as well be depicting humans instead. Why? Because that would be a ridiculous imposition, that's why. How is it any different with the written word?
Two, it blatantly disregards author intent. In the absence of a top-down Anthropomorphic Standards Board, if an author chooses to identify their work as furry, and it contains anthropomorphic characters, any attempt to extrinsically redefine the work either has to rely on some objective standard or be illegitimate. The standard of "a furry story contains characters that are not human" is an a priori logical truth. Anything else is non-objective, which would be fine, except that...
Three, it is fundamentally circular. The notion that a story is not furry if the characters could be replaced with humans just isn't sustainable, because at some point it requires an arbitrary line to be drawn. A story in which male bipedal lions shoot the children of their lioness girlfriends before marrying them is decidedly anthropomorphic (on the other hand, what if this doesn't occur? Is it a strike against the "furriness" of the story?).
But what if I have a scene in my story in which the sole reference to someone's species is that they have to fill out a census form, or that they look for clothes that match the colour of their fur. Is that enough to make it furry? Or would the "B" side of the continuum suggest that I remove these scenes from the story? Suppose we assume that Abraham Lincoln is the same species as the central characters in the story (which is generally accurate). Suppose the statue in the Lincoln Monument depicts a fox? Suppose, in Da Vinci Code fashion, some plot point hinges on one of the statue's ears pointing towards a small inscription in the edifice. This has nothing to do with anthropomorphism per se, but the story would be fundamentally different without furry characters even if they are never mentioned as such.
To some degree I am arguing against a straw man, here, because there are comparatively few people who would argue that a story must be intrinsically anthropomorphic to be a "furry" story. But what of the second concept? Should it be?
First off it should be said that there is a lot to be said for anthropomorphisation. It is a powerful tool and I'd certainly not caution anyone who wants to employ it against doing so. Memorable anthropomorphic characters in science fiction, like the dogs in City or the Kzinti in Ringworld, are so because the trope is skilfully employed.
However, I don't think it is something that you should employ just because you feel it's expected of you. There may be places, for instance, where it distracts from the narrative, or becomes a gimmick. If your point lies beyond characterisation—say, in plot—then anthropomorphisation might not help you at all. That, or you get the opportunity to join the several thousand other furries who have tread the well-worn path of "how would humans deal with furries?" where the answer is generally "some form of apartheid."
There is a certain elitism associated with furry writing, and in particular the notion that people who aren't making it as anthropomorphic as possible are doing it wrong. I think this is inaccurate. Anthropomorphism is useful in furry stories, and possibly to be encouraged—but by no means required. One can be a good furry author without using those elements and, indeed, I would argue that it is entirely possible that the best furry stories may well not be heavily anthropomorphised—not because a lack of anthropomorphisation is helpful, but because its presence is not required.
In sum: all that is needed for a story to be furry is that the characters are non-human. Anything else is gravy. Enjoy writing; that's what matters. Don't let anybody else pigeonhole your stories for you.
What makes a story "furry"? This is a somewhat contentious issue, and people can get a bit tetchy about it. There is a continuum of sorts, situated between two diametric propositions:
A. It doesn't matter at all; any story with anthropomorphic characters in it is "furry";
B. There is an intrinsic furry character to stories, pursuing it should be the goal, and stories in which the characters do not, ipso facto, have to be anthropomorphic are not "furry".
The traditional literary view of the fandom cleaves to the latter point of view, and this is also the perspective advanced by the fandom's leading writing demagogues. In this line of reasoning, stories in which the characters are furry but do not have to be for the plot's sake are labelled as "human in fursuit" or "zipperback" stories.
There is something to this point of view. In particular, given that furry stories tend to exist within their own little ghetto, it's plainly apparent that someone who writes furry characters when they could be using humans is making their life a lot harder for no good reason, if their eventual aim is publication or appeal to a general audience.
Too, the history of anthropomorphic writing is broadly characterised by anthropomorphism as a trope—that is to say, by people using the non-human nature of the characters to make a point, or to draw on the established semiotic value of the species. This is true from Kipling to the Kzinti, and it suggests that anthro fiction does and can be inherently furry, such that losing that aspect changes the work substantially.
But should it? And, more to the point, must it?
The "B" end of the continuum would answer both of these questions as "yes". On the other hand, there is a certain... high-mindedness to this notion. It creates a "no true Scotsman" scenario in which anthro fiction is somewhat arbitrarily defined—how much characterisation is sufficient? Any? Is it important only that the characters not be human, or must they also be locked in by self-definition to their individual species, as well?
It helps that, to be brutally honest, much if not most of the furry writing community may profess to be in camp "B" but is actually camp "A". The bulk of the fandom's work, sampled at places like FurAffinity and Yiffstar, is only debatably intrinsically furry. Most of it is simply declaratory: "these characters are anthropomorphic, the end." Want to argue with it? Take it up with the author. Is this good enough?
I'm going to start by advancing two moderately radical answers. Must the characters in a "furry" story be inherently furry? No. Should they? Not necessarily.
Why mustn't they be? I propose three reasons.
One, it imposes an absurd double standard. I'm not aware of any serious artistic thread in the furry community that suggests that furry artwork depict characters engaged in activities that are inherently animalistic, or that artists who choose to depict animals in human settings might as well be depicting humans instead. Why? Because that would be a ridiculous imposition, that's why. How is it any different with the written word?
Two, it blatantly disregards author intent. In the absence of a top-down Anthropomorphic Standards Board, if an author chooses to identify their work as furry, and it contains anthropomorphic characters, any attempt to extrinsically redefine the work either has to rely on some objective standard or be illegitimate. The standard of "a furry story contains characters that are not human" is an a priori logical truth. Anything else is non-objective, which would be fine, except that...
Three, it is fundamentally circular. The notion that a story is not furry if the characters could be replaced with humans just isn't sustainable, because at some point it requires an arbitrary line to be drawn. A story in which male bipedal lions shoot the children of their lioness girlfriends before marrying them is decidedly anthropomorphic (on the other hand, what if this doesn't occur? Is it a strike against the "furriness" of the story?).
But what if I have a scene in my story in which the sole reference to someone's species is that they have to fill out a census form, or that they look for clothes that match the colour of their fur. Is that enough to make it furry? Or would the "B" side of the continuum suggest that I remove these scenes from the story? Suppose we assume that Abraham Lincoln is the same species as the central characters in the story (which is generally accurate). Suppose the statue in the Lincoln Monument depicts a fox? Suppose, in Da Vinci Code fashion, some plot point hinges on one of the statue's ears pointing towards a small inscription in the edifice. This has nothing to do with anthropomorphism per se, but the story would be fundamentally different without furry characters even if they are never mentioned as such.
To some degree I am arguing against a straw man, here, because there are comparatively few people who would argue that a story must be intrinsically anthropomorphic to be a "furry" story. But what of the second concept? Should it be?
First off it should be said that there is a lot to be said for anthropomorphisation. It is a powerful tool and I'd certainly not caution anyone who wants to employ it against doing so. Memorable anthropomorphic characters in science fiction, like the dogs in City or the Kzinti in Ringworld, are so because the trope is skilfully employed.
However, I don't think it is something that you should employ just because you feel it's expected of you. There may be places, for instance, where it distracts from the narrative, or becomes a gimmick. If your point lies beyond characterisation—say, in plot—then anthropomorphisation might not help you at all. That, or you get the opportunity to join the several thousand other furries who have tread the well-worn path of "how would humans deal with furries?" where the answer is generally "some form of apartheid."
There is a certain elitism associated with furry writing, and in particular the notion that people who aren't making it as anthropomorphic as possible are doing it wrong. I think this is inaccurate. Anthropomorphism is useful in furry stories, and possibly to be encouraged—but by no means required. One can be a good furry author without using those elements and, indeed, I would argue that it is entirely possible that the best furry stories may well not be heavily anthropomorphised—not because a lack of anthropomorphisation is helpful, but because its presence is not required.
In sum: all that is needed for a story to be furry is that the characters are non-human. Anything else is gravy. Enjoy writing; that's what matters. Don't let anybody else pigeonhole your stories for you.
FA+

For a long time I was in camp A. This was long before I got online. I was reading and writing stories that would, broadly, be termed 'furry'. Once I got online and saw the immense diversity of stories, artwork, ideas and fantasies that the fandom generated, I realized that camp B made more sense. At least for a little while.
After seeing this debated, and rather hotly at that, I started to change my mind. I eventually formed my own camp, and as far as I know I'm practically the only one in it.
Camp C would be: There are no furry stories, only human ones. Allow me to explain.
When I saw someone put forth the idea that 'for a story to be furry the characters have to have some reason to be furry, otherwise you could replace them with humans and it wouldn't change the story,' I basically agreed. And more to the point,I tried to write my own stories that way. But eventually I came to realize there is no such thing as a character who can't be replaced by a human, because all stories are human stories.
Think about it. Let's tell the story of a starfish. It lives at the bottom of a tidal pool. It wanders mindlessly around the pool, doing what starfish do. It lives, it eats, it reproduces, it dies; all the major elements of a human story are there, but there is no perspective for a reader to grasp. The story is boring, told in the third person because starfish can't communicate in any meaningful way to humans, and is in no way relatable to humans other than the major themes I just mentioned (live, eat, etc.) Any anthropomorphic qualities given to the starfish by the narrator are false. The starfish isn't searching for its lost son, questing for a magic ring or going through the angsty pangs of its teenage years.
Or let's go a step beyond to an alien living on another planet. This life form takes on whatever form you can imagine, but likely one we wouldn't even recognize as life. It thinks it's own kind of thoughts (if it can be said to think at all), behaves in ways that make sense only to it, performs actions that have meaning only to it. Try and tell the alien's story and you'll fail, because there isn't a single human element to which a reader can relate. It's ALIEN, it's unlike ANYTHING humans know. Therefore we can't tell its story. We don't know how.
Any story a human tells is a human story. The characters are stand-ins for human characters, regardless of their form.
I advanced this idea to a story newsgroup once, and was soundly rebuffed. And that's putting it mildly. There was a lot of anger and disgust that I should put forth such an idea, especially to a group of furries.
I let the idea go, not seeing a reason to get an argument started, but the notion has stayed with me ever since.
Now this notion might sound a lot like the 'zipperback' view you mentioned in your post, but there's a notable difference. I believe the problem with the whole concept of 'furry' is that it is both too inclusive and too exclusive. To explain, I'll refer to your points.
A. It doesn't matter at all; any story with anthropomorphic characters in it is "furry"
Well, that's fine, but it has a flaw. It's inclusive of characters that aren't even considered as true life forms. For example: Wall-E, the Iron Giant, The Brave Little Toaster, Speed McQueen, ect. These are anthropomorphic characters in the truest sense; inanimate objects given life, feelings, desires and goals. In other words, they are given all the attributes of humans. Which means their stories could be told with human characters and the basic story would not change much, aside from a few interesting details (does it hurt when Speed McQueen gets a flat?)
B. There is an intrinsic furry character to stories, pursuing it should be the goal, and stories in which the characters do not, ipso facto, have to be anthropomorphic are not "furry"
Now you have a definition that seems to clearly limit a story to "is" or "is not" furry. Until you apply my idea that all stories are human stories. Then it would seem to matter little whether or not the characters are anthropomorphic. And anyway, what of stories with sentient reptiles? Or genetically altered dolphins? The very label of 'furry' is deceptive in nature, limiting your characters to mammals and perhaps birds. It becomes too exclusive as it tries to define 'how furry is furry enough?'
If someone wants 'furry' to mean characters like Disney's "Robin Hood" or "Bolt" and nothing else, I can see their point. But if someone else wants it to include the Drac pilot Jeriba Shigan from "Enemy Mine" or Sonny from the film "I Robot", then I can see that point, too.
Ultimately, I think furry is in the eye of the beholder. You might compare it to painting styles. One might prefer more realistic works in which a tree looks like a tree while another might prefer surrealistic works in which a tree might look like anything BUT a tree. But both forms of expression have equal merit and are both considered art.
At any rate, yes. Any time we modify animals to incorporate a point of view, yes, we transform it into a human story. I think I agree with your basic point and, on reflection, I think I'd join you in camp C if there's room. My primary goal in writing the post I did was to address what I would describe as an almost ridiculously teleological view of furry characteristics, which is that they must be there to serve some purpose. It does not do a great job of addressing the actual divide of furry/not-furry, and I think you've done a pretty good job of summing up the actual answer, which is that, not to put too fine a point on it, there ain't one.
And it is your last point, that these various styles have intrinsic merit, that I think is one of the most key for new writers to the fandom to internalise.
I should probably do an update to the post at Alexandria II. Would you mind terribly if I cribbed, with credit of course, some of your thinking in order to do so?