Sun King, Exposed

Heliocentric IX

Illustration: Vilhelm Pedersen / torso: Farnese Hercules in Alexander Gardens, St. Petersburg — copy of antique sculpture by Paolo Triscorni, made in late 18th century.

Give some writers real life events and they’ll convert them into cute children’s stories, subverting the edgy details into moralizing fluff for taming little brats, while inflating the supposed parental wisdom.

Well, here’s how it went.
I was still king then, before I left that nonsense and moved to this mountain retreat and became a writer. The country was obsessed, as most are, with their traditions and national pride. Oh how they all love the empty fanfare of monarchy.

The preparations were going on for the annual Sun Day celebrations. An absurd amount of coin was allocated for the processional gown.
Gossip they will, and the peasantry was on about how it was to be spun of gold.

The day came and my procession emerged from the castle and made its way through the city. I kept a straight face as I came out dressed in nothing!

Everybody was laughing, everybody was happy, everyone was cheering: Here comes the Sun King! But they couldn’t admit what they were seeing, a man’s naked flesh! After all — nakedness was sex, and sex was an animal, and animal was death — so they all pretended to see the gold garment.