Apart from a few restaurateurs in England and America, Mr Yeros is the only Greek gentleman that I have ever known, but I’ve always been dimly aware that, as a nation, the Greeks have been consumed by a passion for the human body – so much so that, during its heyday, Athens must have looked like an outfitter’s window during a weekday strike. This book at first appears to confirm this ancient belief but, as one turns the pages and the postures of the models become more and more bizarre, one realises the whole idea is being deliciously satirised – a thoroughly entertaining book.
Quentin Crisp
on the book Theory of The Nude
