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chipotleThe other day I read Postvixen's journal entry which said, in part, "I have terrible nostalgia for Albedo and for furry comics and fanzines from that era. In my subconscious mind, they're something far, far greater than their parts. Maybe someday I can express what it was about their nature that made furry seem so appealing to me, then. [...] Carla Speed McNeil's Finder is closer to the perfect expression of what drew me to furry fandom -- which is a damn shame, because it's not really furry. Let's face it, furry never really produced its Sandman, much less its Invisibles, and it's looking less and less likely that it will."
This floated in about the time I'd adopted an air I guess I'd described as resigned amusement to things like the recent C.S.I. episode, and somewhat less amusement toward things like the "Eat All Furries" LiveJournal group, which, like most such things, occasionally goes out of its way collectively to assure readers that they don't hate what they mock, then goes on, also collectively, to assert things about "most" furries that make the occasional embarrassing mainstream coverage seem positively flattering. (Did you know that most of us are aging pedophiles constantly cruising chat rooms for sex with teenage boys? Shocked me, since I've been involved with the fandom for going on fifteen years now and have yet to meet a single one. But it must be true, right? I read it on the internet!)
So, these thoughts struck with an odd combination of melancholia and determination. Furry was about art and writing and reading and creating with animal characters, telling stories for adults and for children and all ages in between. That's the core. Furry stories get their power by standing mimesis on its head. Just as science fiction is often the best genre to explore questions of spirituality, non-human characters are often the best to explore questions of what being human means.
And there's no reason why it has to be "was" instead of "is." I'm tired of worrying that I'm going to be lumped in with a largely mythical fetish group that has sex in mascot outfits, or that people are going to come across sordid artwork with cartoon animals and lump my writing in with that. (If they decide my writing is sordid on its own merits, that's another matter.) It's not a religion and it's not a fetish and it's not a lifestyle and people may bring all sorts of their own baggage to it just like they do to any endeavor, and because any group of people with common interests will form a loose confederation, it's saddled with the advantages and blessed with the disadvantages of any subculture. The community, such as it is, of furry fans isn't much different than the community of goths or geeks or ravers or the high school chess club.
I'm not the comic fan I once was; I suppose I'm waiting for the furry answer to The Stars My Destination or Neuromancer, a Charles De Lint, a John Crowley, a Hemingway, a Faulkner. Part of me wonders whether it's too late; part of me wonders if it's more likely to happen now than a decade ago--there's more writing in the fandom going on, and more paying markets specifically focused on anthropomorphic animal stories and novels, than at any time before. Part of me wonders if I'm just way behind schedule on writing it.
But I suppose I'm left with a parallel question to Postvixen's. Put into words, my feelings sound like a cry to take back furry fandom, but take it back from who, exactly?
This floated in about the time I'd adopted an air I guess I'd described as resigned amusement to things like the recent C.S.I. episode, and somewhat less amusement toward things like the "Eat All Furries" LiveJournal group, which, like most such things, occasionally goes out of its way collectively to assure readers that they don't hate what they mock, then goes on, also collectively, to assert things about "most" furries that make the occasional embarrassing mainstream coverage seem positively flattering. (Did you know that most of us are aging pedophiles constantly cruising chat rooms for sex with teenage boys? Shocked me, since I've been involved with the fandom for going on fifteen years now and have yet to meet a single one. But it must be true, right? I read it on the internet!)
So, these thoughts struck with an odd combination of melancholia and determination. Furry was about art and writing and reading and creating with animal characters, telling stories for adults and for children and all ages in between. That's the core. Furry stories get their power by standing mimesis on its head. Just as science fiction is often the best genre to explore questions of spirituality, non-human characters are often the best to explore questions of what being human means.
And there's no reason why it has to be "was" instead of "is." I'm tired of worrying that I'm going to be lumped in with a largely mythical fetish group that has sex in mascot outfits, or that people are going to come across sordid artwork with cartoon animals and lump my writing in with that. (If they decide my writing is sordid on its own merits, that's another matter.) It's not a religion and it's not a fetish and it's not a lifestyle and people may bring all sorts of their own baggage to it just like they do to any endeavor, and because any group of people with common interests will form a loose confederation, it's saddled with the advantages and blessed with the disadvantages of any subculture. The community, such as it is, of furry fans isn't much different than the community of goths or geeks or ravers or the high school chess club.
I'm not the comic fan I once was; I suppose I'm waiting for the furry answer to The Stars My Destination or Neuromancer, a Charles De Lint, a John Crowley, a Hemingway, a Faulkner. Part of me wonders whether it's too late; part of me wonders if it's more likely to happen now than a decade ago--there's more writing in the fandom going on, and more paying markets specifically focused on anthropomorphic animal stories and novels, than at any time before. Part of me wonders if I'm just way behind schedule on writing it.
But I suppose I'm left with a parallel question to Postvixen's. Put into words, my feelings sound like a cry to take back furry fandom, but take it back from who, exactly?
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Re: Don't Believe Everything You See On TV.
Date: 2003-11-06 08:21 (UTC)Suffice it to say, I am one of those sickos. Generally I'm not one in *public*, say, but I am one of them, certainly. But I consider furry to be an exploration of the human condition - particularly those parts of the human condition that seem to be exiled from current "mainstream" existence. Many people I've known over the years have reached furry because they've felt like they couldn't be accepted in the "real world" - with various degrees of alienation.
On the other hand, one of my favorite series of books is the Redwall series, which I've followed on and off for years. Quite charming books.
I'm willing to sit in my little corner, not bother anyone else, and muse for the rest of my life. I'm afraid that any group will get tarred by the actions of its most extreme members - goths, political parties, clubs, etc. I'm not asking to represent furry, myself. If concerned people want to form something else out of furry, please go ahead and go do it - I certainly have - but leave me alone and I'll do the same.
I have no fondness attached to Albedo, Genus, etc. etc. If you want to help create furry's Sandman - or furry's Stephen King, for that matter - start organizing. To some extent, even, I'd love to help.
Re: Don't Believe Everything You See On TV.
Yeah, I'm one of those sickos too, although I don't think I'd call myself a "sicko" since there's nothing wrong with what I do. -:) I'd describe myself as a well-behaved pervert. (Or, as
Having said that, to be totally honest I'm pretty ambivalent about the whole "representing the fandom" thing these days, mainly because I've gone a few too many times through the cycle of hearing the Big Complainers whining about image problems, suggesting solutions and realizing the Big Complainers don't actually want solutions, and going back to investing my time in having fun and just being the silly squeaky pony everyone knows and loves.
I hate wasting my time. Doubly so when other people waste it. And lately, I cannot think of a worse investment of my time than trying to make the fandom a nice place for the Big Complainers who'll only thank me by trying their hardest to drive me out of it.