Many years ago — not too many to count, but let’s call it that, it sounds more romantic that way — Bryant Park was known for its heroin addicts and violent crime. But, in one of New York’s greatest stories of urban renewal, it bounced back. Now it’s a gorgeous green lawn, lovingly tended, surrounded by peculiar amenities such as a bocce court, a carousel where you ride on frogs and rabbits rather than horses, and an open air “reading room” filled with free books and magazines donated by the city’s various publishing concerns.
So when we went to Bryant Park this past week only to discover that the lawn we’d planned to sunbathe on was in the process of being lovingly tended (pesticide had just been applied, so no sunbathing!), we knew which part of the periphery we wanted to head toward. That’s right: the bocce court.
Just kidding. We headed for the Reading Room, with its plethora of folding chairs and books and book lovers, and even an author seated behind a microphone discussing at length the films of Alfred Hitchcock and his encyclopedic new book about same. We commandeered a pair of tables within earshot of the presentation (Cary Grant…Grace Kelly…Psycho…McGuffin…), unpacked our own books (we’d brought extras so we could leave a donation of our own),
took off our shirts and bras,
and had one of the most pleasant and relaxing afternoons of our long and distinguished career as an outdoor literary society.
What made it so? Well, first of all, the multiple women who stopped by to say they supported what we were doing, including the one who said she’d join us if she weren’t on her way back to the office from her lunch break, the one who called herself an old hippie and recommended some nude beaches for us to visit, and the one who took our info so she could join next time.
But second of all the men, who for once startled us by having something to say about books, such as this fellow who started with “Are you the outdoor topless pulp book club?” and then followed that not with questions about our choice to be bare-chested but rather, having seen a copy of Naomi Novik’s His Majesty’s Dragon on the table, a comment about Novik’s recent win over N.K. Jemisin in the Nebula Awards (he originally supported Jemisin, but after seeing one of her tweets about how great Novik is, he tried one of her books and had to admit he agreed, she’s pretty great too).
All in all, an encouragingly positive day, full of sunshine and breezes and occasional surprised glances, but nothing worse than that. If only every afternoon could be like this!
Alas, they aren’t: just two days earlier, in the very same park, two of our members — one with her three-year-old daughter in tow — came to sunbathe and were approached for it by a park official and a pair of cops. They’d gotten several complaints, they said, and while they knew they couldn’t do anything about it, they wondered if our friends would put their shirts back on.
No, our friends said. Not least of all because one of them happened to be nursing her daughter at the time. How old is she? one of the men asked. Does that matter? our friend replied. Well, no, the man conceded. When you’re finished, though, will you cover up?
Um, our friend said. No?
To which the official had no comment, and in the end he had no choice but to leave her alone. But what an awful, awkward, needlessly embarrassing experience it was. And why? Why were two women, one nursing, approached and bothered, while just a few days later something like nine of us could sit happily topless just a few yards away, in the very same park, and not be pestered?
Ah — of course.
The pesticide.
Applied only a few days too late.
Do they bottle that pesticide?
This is cool stuff. I would love to have been there and listen to the lecture.
The human body is the ultimate art form.
This is why the classics used the form for paintings and sculptures.
The only negative thing about this event is the pesticide.
It’s poison; stay away from it.
There’s nothing wrong with nudity.
As a bodybuilder I understand the pride we should all have in our bodies.
Rock On, Ladies !
Proud of all of you. Keep fighting for what’s right. Keep going to more and different public places. Do you know of any other cities making any headway?
We’re not necessarily up on what’s going on in other cities, but if you Google a city you’re curious about, you can probably find out easily enough.
Please check out a Court case. “Rochester seven”. This is the case that made it legal for woman in N.Y. State to go topless wherever a man can. Make copies of this so that whenever you are accosted by police you can educate them. Love you ladies and what you are doing.
Don’t you think we have? We’ve been doing this for the past six summers. We’re very well versed in the law. It’s just the police who sometimes aren’t. (And in this case even the police knew the law wasn’t on their side, and acknowledged it. That just didn’t stop them from coming over and making a nuisance of themselves.)
“In numbers there is safety.”…old Roman aphorism. If you outnumber the complaint calls, then the callers are the problem.
I voted for Jemisin’s The Fifth Season for both the Nebula and Hugo Awards, but I must agree that Novik’s Uprooted is an astonishing novel. They’re both, in their different ways, quite political books. Novik won the Nebula and Jemisin won the Hugo, so I guess it’s a wash. 🙂
Rock on, ladies. And keep at it. Cheers!
one of the best posts yet.
awesome and thank you!