Pornosophy: Nudity

Courbet's "The Origin of the World"

Nude is a word that has both academic and pleasurable, if somewhat transgressive connotations. From the academic point of view a nude is a classic form in which both painters and sculptors have worked. There are of course infamous nudes, like the one in Courbet’s “The Origin of the World,” in which the wanton pose of the subject was deemed so risqué that for many years the painting was hidden from public view.  Nude when used as an adjective is hardly academic and refers to a state in which lovers find themselves in anticipation of a sexual act. When you get nude or you see someone in the nude you're viewing them or being viewed in a state that has to do with revelation as well as sensory gratification. One always questions why nudity has such significance. Biblically Adam and Eve experienced shame after they ate the forbidden fruit, but nudity is also associated with the idea of truth. What makes nudity so special is not that we're exposing our so called private parts, but rather seeking a kind of veracity. Nudity is a metaphor. It’s consecrated (and also forbidden) because of the way in which it symbolizes the striving that transpires when one individual tries to show another his or her real self.

East of Eden

In the prelapsarian world, nakedness was not met with self-consciousness. Innocence prevailed and men and women defecated and urinated like cosmopolitan dogs, unashamedly leaving their piles or lifting their legs against corner lampposts. The invention of shame and modesty are not products of sin but of consciousness, of the thinking “I.” Why does the awareness of the self lead to the need to cover it up on both literal and metaphorical levels? What secrets does the “I” possess? Here is the point where sin comes in. Desire in Homo sapiens is partially an invention of consciousness, and leads to longing of the kind that Eve suffered when she was tempted to eat the forbidden fruit. Actually, nudity is only a subterfuge, a warning signal about the dangers of self-revelation. For instance, sexual arousal, in the surging of blood through the penis, the vagina’s lubricity, or the hardening of nipples, provides knowledge to the extent that it reveals what someone is thinking, or, more accurately, feeling. Perhaps this is the knowledge that hangs from the tree wherefrom Eve plucked the forbidden fruit. Human beings are possessed of a highly developed cerebral cortex, which provides the neural substrate for the notion of Orwell’s Big Brother. “Big Brother is watching” refers to none other than Freud’s superego, serving as night watchman over desire-producing faculties. Thought is the crime that nakedness scurries to cover up. 

Coitus Interruptus

Shame performs a useful function from an evolutionary standpoint. The notion of covering the genitals goes back to the Adamic myth and The Fall, but how can one make sense of this prerogative in a liberal, rationalist or Enlightenment context? Surely there is no sense to the notion that men and women must cover themselves up. Why are the vagina, breasts or the penis any different from other elements of the flesh, like the heart, the eyes, the ears? Why are orifices like the nostril, the belly button, and the mouth freely revealed, while the vulva and the anus are considered off limits? What is so sacrosanct about the nipples of women that they must be clothed with a bra?

   

Further, why do we have secrets at all? Why is there a disinclination to reveal things about our selves, particularly those things that relate to areas of the body that are covered up? Why are defecation and micturition activities that are not discussed in so-called polite company, and why do we employ clinical-sounding words when referring to these activities, instead of saying shit or piss—in polite company that is? Why do college educated people insist on using latinate words like coitus instead of fuck?

   

Let’s take the breast. The breast is a source of fascination because it provides the nourishment for the infant. Thus, it is not surprising that for Homo sapiens, blessed or afflicted with consciousness, the breast would have extraordinary significance. Attachment for an infant becomes a signal for mature love in the adult. When a woman shows her breasts to her lover, she is offering the prospect of a vintage form of attachment, distilled from the emotions of motherhood and infancy. The breast is not simply epidermis surrounded by fatty tissue. In the mind, it performs another function. There are many breasts, of many shapes and sizes, and, from a rational standpoint, there should be little shame in showing and appreciating each and every one of them.  Go to any nude beach for an hour and breasts, however perfectly formed, become as uninteresting as the gulls or the seashells. You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. St. Tropez is legendary for its topless beaches, but the only extraordinary thing about an afternoon of breast gazing in St. Tropez is the stiff neck that results from the head moving from side to side too many times. On the other hand, a woman walking into a room with a tight-fitting blouse that emphasizes her endowments has a great effect. She covers herself because without covering she might be cold, but she also dresses in alluring ways to hold out the possibility of that form of irrational engagement known as sexual attraction and love. The privacy and sacredness of sexuality performs a naturally selective function for the human species. It makes no sense at all and yet it is the humanized expression of man’s animal nature. Ironically, it is nudism that is unnatural for man and woman.