COMMENTARY ON THE DRAGON AND
UNICORN STORIES -- PAGE 2 of 2

Submission file version

Date posted: Sept 25/2011

© 2011 Fred Brown


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     Everybody's sexuality is also a little different. Sometimes a lot
different. No two people will have the same semiotic 'structures' set
up in their minds. Some of it's hardwired, some of it's due to experience
and learning. Meaning what turns your partner on isn't something you
can ever know very well in advance. You gotta ask. 'Hey, honey, got any
fetishes?' 'Oooo! I'm so glad you asked. Get on this trapeze. . .'

     (That could so easily be the setup for an SSTS. I shall resist. . .)

     One last point: our sexuality is always-on, a 24/7 thing. No matter
what our mind is doing or paying attention to, the back of our head is
constantly on the lookout for sexual signals and input, or anything that
resembles sexual signals. Again, many animals have it easier since their
sexuality only goes strongly 'live' at certain times and under certain
conditions. We get horny at the drop of a G-string, anytime, anywhere. Or
putting one on, with ref to the girlfriend again.

     Back to our fox and stripper who are beginning to complain about
the awkward pose. Last step in the experiment: Merge the two images
into one. Don't ya just love Photoshop? And now we have Champagne,
a hot, big-boobed, platinum-haired fox fur stripper who looks like she's
rather enjoying herself there. Bernal caught this little gasp of an
expression on her muzzle.

     What has happened to the sexual semiotics of this image?

     Hmmm. . .

     Well, study this art for a bit and you soon stop thinking about
semiotics, I can tell you that much. The human form of the stripper has
been 'fox-ified.' Or the animal form of the fox has been 'stripper-fied.'
Potato, potahto.

     But in semiotic terms what we have here is a mash-up. Or perhaps
a fusion? A double-hit at any rate. Some to most of the sexual
signals present from the stripper image are here. Some to most of
the sexual signals from the fox image are here too.

     Some signals have been lost. Skin tone and human facial expression,
for example (face and lips, a crucial source of sexual signals). The
fox body isn't there anymore either, but head and tail and fur and ears
all say as much fox as we need.

     Some signals have been modified. A fox face and muzzle does
not 'read' the same way a human face does. We cannot interpret it for
emotion and state of mind the way we instantly do with a human face.
Different semiotics.

     But notice how easy it is for any artist to deal with this. Alter face
and muzzle a bit to approach the human geometry and proportions.
Add human eyes. Change the expressiveness of the muzzle a tad. Presto:
now we can read Champagne's face with no trouble at all, and see in it
something human. At the same time as we see fox.

     Works on Bugs Bunny too. Or Bambi. Or the Road-Runner. If an
animal face couldn't be manipulated this way, such that we can see
human meaning in it, I highly doubt we'd be talking here. There'd be no
such thing as furs.

     At the same time as we see fox. There's the key. In either art or
in writing, when we see a fur character our always-on sexuality is
confronted with a dissonance, a contradiction, a set of sexual signals
that just *don't* go together.

     Champagne's not a human stripper (but she's close). She's not
a fox either (but she's close). She doesn't fit into any neat 'n clear
semiotic 'category.' But there are certainly plenty of sexual signals here
to chew over (sic).

     In order to get any erotic meaning out of her at all, what I suggest
is that not one but two semiotic processes are in play. Back-of-
brain makes its try, sees some human sexual signals and knows what
they mean, but isn't really able to grok all this foxness present. Some
confusion is happening (a tail?). Message is sorta arousal, but also
some 'what th' f**k. . .?'

     Meanwhile the rest of our mind is busy interpreting the meaning
of all the non-human things about Champagne. It understands
what's going on here, and on a level that Back-of-brain doesn't. And if
there's anything to be said about sexual arousal it involves feedback
between these two parts of our mind.

      We know this is not a human female sliding down that pole.
This is an artificial being, a fur, something that cannot ever exist in
the real world. Not counting exceptionally explicit fursuits or the wish
list of everybody over on the Furgenics group. And we *like* furs. We
like the idea of what Champagne is. We are highly disposed to see
her in a positive light. Our 'set' of mind when we see this art (or read
about her) is open to the potential for arousal.

     So the unreality of Champagne doesn't stop us. Milliseconds after
our eyes see the art, front and back part of head have concluded their
negotiations and have enthusiastically agreed: she is something we can
get turned on by after all. And we do.

     This is at least in part because we can read one important meaning
out of that image: Champagne is turned on too. Sometimes
semiotics isn't complicated at all.

     I think this is one reason why fur art and writing carry such an
Oomph. Meaning an oomph that doesn't go away very easily. The
dissonance triggered by a fur image (or character) operates to short-circuit
that 'memory effect' I mentioned. This is the one that implants sexual
imagery and experience in all our heads about like with a piledriver.
Almost twenty years later and I can still see those three girls on the
beach? Would know that pic instantly if I saw it again? Yup.

     But I turn around in the kitchen with a cup of coffee in paw and
there's Champagne. And Sasha. Seen 'em a million times now. The
dissonance still happens. My mind still has to sort them out. Fox?
Bunny? Human? Which? *That* can't get memorized.

     Who cares? They're both hot as sin and look eager to commit
some. As my coffee gets a little cold as I stare and fantasize.

     Every time I look at 'em. I highly doubt I'm alone here.

     (If anybody's guessed that I'm working on a novel where they
do a *lot* of sinnin', and all over each other, gee, what gave me
away? :- ) )

     So to shift gears hard enough to shred 'em, how does any of this
relate to BDSM? (Remember BDSM?) I need some latitude here, your
Honour; tricky argument.

     If you spend enough time writing genre fiction you'll get pretty expert
after a while on what the genre will and will not let you do. It's the
masochistic pleasure of the enterprise that keeps you going, beating
your brains out on the limits and restrictions of the genre to try and do
something new and interesting.

     Maybe you'll even extend it a bit? Some writers rise to the level
of canonical, their work all but defining the genre. Chandler and
detective fiction, for example.

     Yes, I was arrogant enough to think about that at one point,
given the intense competition to be found in the heavily-populated
sub-genre of BDSM comedy. Take my slave, please. . .

     Or maybe not. Be careful what you're famous for, might be the
motto here.

     But you've really got to write a *lot* of genre fiction before you can
master one particular set of limits and restrictions. These are the
ones that apply to characters.

     Writing a believable and effective genre story cannot be done
with just any character you please. Brain surgeons do not appear in
Westerns. Hard-boiled detective fiction tends to stick to detectives,
criminals, cops, and the occasional sultry blonde in trouble (sometimes
platinum-haired). The roster of genre stereotypes doesn't include, say,
gay florists who like to dress up like Liza Minelli and catch bad guys.

     No offence to the gay florists out there. A detective story using
one could be written, but it would be a challenge, right? The genre
readership generally knows what it likes. That story would have to be
astonishingly good to win them over.

     This is one of the things that makes a genre a genre. The characters
who inhabit it have a certain range of attributes and qualities. They
express a defined set of values and worldviews [that resonate with
the readers]. They fall somewhere within an accepted inventory of
identities and stereotypes, and everybody who digs the genre knows
what they are.

     Just as only some types of plot can happen within a genre, only
some types of characters can appear in those plots. There's a linkage, if
you will. Plots that involve violence, for example, need characters who are
capable of it, and who can cope with it in a way the readers can believe. A
gay florist detective story could be in trouble once the guns come out.
Unless the guy's an ex-Marine sharpshooter? Don't know if that helps us
but it is interesting.

     The key thing to know is that genre characters are not and cannot
ever be wholly authentic and 'real' characters. At least for the most
part. Try and flesh them out in great detail, make them come alive the
way a non-genre story strives for, and you risk going beyond the
tolerance of the genre readership. Genre characters don't generally
need this level of complexity and depth in order to make the plot work.

     The non-genre story, by contrast, puts a lot into the characters,
wants to make them rich, unique, memorable. The readers want to
meet some real people here, and want to watch them march through
some unique plot that the readers have never read before.

     Genre readers know the plot and the characters cold going in.
What they want to see is a different retelling of a story they already
know. Style counts for a lot in genre fiction (ie., throwing humour into
it). Do it right and the readers forget that they've read this story
before. Challenge.

      This renders genre characters somewhat artificial. They are
not really a very good reflection of what real people are like. They
can't be or they might have trouble getting through the plot. And/or
the plot has to bend out of shape to accommodate them, possibly
turning into a non-genre story on you before you realize what
you're doing.

     *How* artificial the characters are, and in what ways, depends on the
genre. You typically must leave out information that a non-genre
story doesn't dare skip over. Not a problem for the genre readership,
given the information that the genre requires you to put in.

     Every genre hands us a variety of assumptions about characters,
unwritten articles of faith that take the place of any in-depth
development. You'll use 'codes' and 'shorthands' in the text to get
this across. All cowboys have love of the land and a hatred of fences.
Watch them spit on the ground when they find one. All detectives have
a moral heart of gold, but will cross the line into Wrong in pursuit of
the Justice. Insert stereotypic handling of a trusty .45 here. And so
on. Every genre has a ton of stuff like this.

     Real people just aren't this cut-and-dried. In non-genre fiction,
neither are the characters. Genre stories schmeck *because* the
characters aren't real (to a degree), but they do have all the qualities
and attributes it takes to make the story fantasy work. The genre of
superhero fiction is a splendid case in point. Whompingly artificial
characters. Who cares?

     (Notice how easy it is to use graphics to get these qualities and
attributes across. Superman #1 is worth how much? The first written
Superman story has been long forgotten.)

     An even better case, IMHO, is BDSM fiction. The special artificiality
of the characters in this genre is absolutely crucial. Without it there
isn't a genre, no fantasy, no arousal. And more important to a writer,
no sales.

     I could be tempted to say this is a hallmark of all porn, no
matter the genre. But this journal is long enough already. Special
artificiality in what way?

     Why, in terms of sexuality, of course. And to a lesser degree in
terms of morality and ethics. Proof is readily at hand. Consider that
recurring character of mine, the pretty but sadistic nurse.

     Oh, I did love her. It was so easy to come up with funny stuff.
Could almost see her: blonde, blue-eyed, a real 'Cheerleader/California
Girl' type, and she filled out her crisp white nurse's uniform reeeeal well.

     And every time she had to do something to somebody with a needle
she got turned on. Then typically went wildly, gleefully over the edge.
My favourite story? She's working ER, a guy comes in on a stretcher,
and he's clearly been through an *appallingly* violent BDSM session,
everything torn to shit.

     Then he gets one look at her, leaps screaming off the stretcher,
and is gone before anybody can stop him. Pretty but sadistic nurse's
closing line to herself: 'Really like to know how he got free, though.'

     <Thaba-Bump! PISH!!> Great LOLs on that one. Why?

     Because she's not real. A totally artificial character. Some real
nurses might have a smidge of the sadist in them, but *no* way is that
going to intrude on patient care, much less in a sexually violent femdom
way (earned a lot of kudos for being egalitarian and non-sexist). Real
nurses possess a morality and set of ethics such that they'd have to be
psychotic to do anything like my nurse.

      Except she isn't psychotic, is she? The premise was simply that
she got off (and seriously) on inflicting pain, suffering, screaming,
and doing all the S&M dommish things to somebody else, male or
female, that the genre readers liked to see. And she was in the right
setting to do a ton of it. Morality and ethics are over there in the corner
tied up and ball-gagged. Within the framework of the genre her
sexuality was perfectly normal.

     This is one of the Big Assumptions about characters in BDSM fic:
their sexuality is such that domination and submission is the primary
dynamic. How and why characters get turned on and have orgasms ain't
got squat to do with pleasure, per se. A whip, OTOH, can be very helpful
in provoking arousal, either using it or being the target. And more.

     (The joke comes when the guy sprains his wrist, and she clinks
her cuffs and snaps petulantly, 'Oh, you're no fun anymore!' I mined
Python extensively).

     Now, it is true that our sexuality does have a dom and sub
dynamic to it. It is artificial to assert that that's the biggest thing about
it, or the only thing. Characters in a non-genre story who get sexual
will probably express some of that, and in fact they'll have to if the sex
scene is to be believed.

     But it's all but impossible that they'll go straight for the whips and
the cuffs (in a BDSM story they will). And the ballgags. And the nip
'n pussy clamps. And the cock 'n ball binders. And the big dildos 'n
vibrators. And the spreader bars. And. . . and. . . (lemme check the list;
what else. . .?)

     Never mind. For a sexual genre BDSM does seem to involve a
helluva lot of technical hardware, all of which carries strong erotic
symbolism and charge for the genre readers. Another Assumption is that
it's all equally erotic for the characters, usually so much so that nobody
can resist either using it or jumping into it. Fetish, fetish, everybody's got
a fetish. Better got a thick credit card too; BDSM junk's expensive.

     We're getting pretty damn far out on the Artificial scale here. Yes,
real people do tie each other up from time to time and whip each
other silly and have a ton of orgasms (ideally they're not both tied up
when they do this). Also yes, fantasy about BDSM can be very strong,
either in image, vid, or story. To some extent, then, the genre is
grounded in some realities about human sexuality. Probably not a good
idea to ignore 'em insofar we're all generally confused enough about
sex already.

     But BDSM characters are not confused in the slightest (another
artificial note). They are designed and constructed solely for the purpose
of enabling some kind of creatively vicious erotic plot action. Add more to
them and you might get a longer story, but it's the creatively vicious erotic
plot action the readers are after. The [artificial] character's jobs are to
make that trapeze swing and the kangaroo squeal, so to speak, not debate
world affairs.

     This was part of why I dropped the SSTSs, I think. When you start
dreaming up plots and characters that can't fit within the limits of the
genre you don't have much of a choice but to leave it.

     Moral: how artificial you make your characters, as per the requirements
of the genre, can either restrict or expand the range of plots open to
you. Or rather, how and in what way the characters are artificial will
determine what you can get away with in constructing the story
fantasy. A lot of BDSM fic (and a lot of porn) tends to keep the
characters fairly simple, pretty close to stereotype, in order to get
straight to the kinky action. Trapezes and kangaroos optional. But
if you can fit 'em in, hey. . .

     How and in what way the characters are artificial will determine
what you can get away with.

     Really.

     Hmmm.

     Hello, Champagne. Hello, Sasha. And hello to all the other
delectable fur females I met over on SexyFur (and elsewhere).

      All of who possess a core attribute of artificiality that comes as a
condition of their very existence. We *know* there's no such thing as
a fox/human stripper, or a bunny/human porn star (Sasha). As characters
it doesn't get much more artificial than this.

     We don't care. The part of our head that knows this is quietly invited
to shut up, thank you very much. To lift a term from SF, there's a
crucial suspension of disbelief that has to happen before any fur art or
lit can work for the viewer or reader. Can't overlook the artificial nature
of fur characters? Whoo-hoo, are *you* on the wrong website.

     But if you can. . .

     Then the whole genre is wide-open to you. And it so happens
that it's really wide. Pick your favourite animal, anthropomorphize it the
way we did with a fox and a stripper, and now you've got a horse fur
stripper with, er, great tracts of land (to ref Python again). Or a bunny fur
stripper. Or a skunk fur stripper. Or a mouse fur stripper. Or a wolf fur
stripper. Or a tiger fur stripper. Or a kangaroo fur stripper. Or a wombat
fur stripper (why should kangaroos have all the fun?).

     Getting the point here? The remarkable thing about fur writing
or art as a genre is the *astonishing* range of possibilities you've got in
terms of characters. As in, there are potentially thousands of different
types of furs. Each comes with its own stereotypes and conventions,
species depending and related to that.

     But you're hardly limited by those, or not nearly as strongly as
in a more defined genre. The 'furness' of a character, or how much
he or she is influenced by their animal attributes, can be whatever you
want it to be in order to make the story (or art) work.

      Upshot: Phenomenal potential for fur storytelling. And notice
there are no genre rules and regulations to tell you what type of fur
characters to use under what circumstances. In fact, I can write a fur
story in any genre I choose, or write any non-genre story I choose,
and use the fur attributes of the characters to add to it.

     A tough female bunny fur detective has to help out a certain
platinum-haired fox fur stripper. That could work well. Or let's flip
that: a sly and clever platinum-haired fox fur detective takes a case
from a big-boobed bunny fur porn star. Different story, even though
the plot could stay substantially the same.

     Or say a gruff wolf fur detective rescues a sleekly blonde ferret
fur stripper. Or a devious raccoon fur detective saves the tail of a svelte
cat fur stripper. Or a hulking horse fur detective helps out a petite mouse
fur stripper in a jam (careful with the sex scenes in this one or it'll be a
very short story).

     No, I'm not stuck on fur strippers. But in each and every case
the plot could stay substantially the same. In each and every case you'd
have a different story. It might be interesting to get a bunch of writers
together and prove this. But I don't think I have to.

     All of this out of this fundamental bit of artificial-ness at the heart
of every fur character? Yes. When you 'anthro' a regular human
character, when you paint them with some furry, you get more than
a human character with a tail. You get an extra [artificial] dimension
to that character that can add to the story. Sometimes dramatically.
Fur characters can be used to tell stories that you can't tell with human
characters alone.

     (All this makes fur writing and art a meta-genre, not a genre.
I'll save that for another journal.)

     But wait, there's more, as I close in on the elusive finish.

     Why we're all attracted to and interested in fur characters in art
or stories has probably been deconstructed elsewhere by better than
me. Somebody on FA has a gallery stuffed with essays. Gotta
find 'em.

     I'm certain the following point hasn't been mentioned. When
an artist or writer goes to work on a fur character(s), that sexual
dissonance effect I mentioned a while back is *not* absent from the
creative process.

     When we see or read about a fur character, yes, it does smack
us between the eyes as our sexuality goes 'Huh? Whazzat?' Always on,
remember? Always looking. Erotic imagery does it to us the strongest, of
course. But it's also in operation with non-erotic imagery. Champagne
could be in the kitchen cooking eggs, not on a stripper pole. Part of our
mind still can't make up its mind about her. Fox? Human? What? (And
drat, I've made myself hungry again).

     Gender and sexuality are basic character attributes. Leave 'em out
and see what happens. They can influence everything else about
the character. But with fur characters there's this unconscious 'fuzziness,'
this small uncertainty that has to be resolved. This is something that the
writer or artist doesn't face with human characters.

     Does this make it easier to think sexually about fur characters?

     Or to put it differently, when a writer or artist creates a human
character a variety of implicit sexual attributes and qualities attach
to that character *because* the character is human. These may be
authentic or may be somewhat artificial. They will determine how the
character behaves sexually in the story or art. Or not at all. They will
also colour the character in the mind of the writer and artist.

     That's not happening with fur characters, or not nearly as strongly.
The sexual attributes and qualities that attach to fur characters aren't
as clear-cut. There are overtones of animal sexuality in there as well,
which can be an influence. But those too tend to be uncertain.

     What it adds up to is more flexibility in the writer or artist with
regards to a fur character's sexuality. It's not quite as nailed down as it
would be with a human character. The writer or artist is just a leeetle freer
to imagine how a fur character could be involved in sexual activity. The
boundaries are fuzzier (yes, yes, so are the characters, ha ha.).

     Naturally, no boundaries whatsoever in the audience of fur fans.
We are a generation that is entirely comfortable with porn and erotic
imagery. Our sense of dissonance translates into no small curiosity
about fur sexuality. Is it human sexuality? Is it animal sexuality? What?
Enquiring Back-of-heads want to know what it takes to make the sexy
fox girl yip (apart from the obvious, that is).

     As much as a piece of fur porn might answer that curiosity (usually
very effectively, ahem) the next piece of fur porn does the exactly
same thing to us, provokes the same dissonance all over again. It is
a curiosity that can never really be answered.

     The result? There's a lot of fur porn out there, and more being
written and drawn every day. The nature of fur characters means the
artistic creators don't have to work very hard coming up with the stuff (no
pun intended). The nature of fur fans ensures sizable market demand for
the stuff (semi-pun intended).

     This doesn't mean non-erotic fur art or writing goes ignored
because it doesn't. It does mean that the nature of fur characters tilts
our imaginations and fantasies towards the erotic. Maybe not by a great
deal (or FA would be a total fur porn site), but maybe enough to account
for the ratio of erotic to non-erotic material that's present here.
Speculation.

     I'll consider this a strength of fur art and fur writing, that it's so
comparatively easy to create spicy stuff. This does mean quite the
outpouring of explicit work involving every fetish under the Sun (and
possibly a few imports from elsewhere). You can't discount that that
does give us writers and artists something of an image problem.

     But this is also a field of creative effort that is very upfront and
honest about matters sexual, perhaps more so than just about any
other out there. This is no negative, IMHO. Tolerance might not be the
right word, but there’s an acceptance of sexual issues in fur lit and art
that you can't find anywhere else.

     So hell yes, I'm on the right website after all. I'm out.


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