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A review by allisonwonderlandreads
Ace Voices: What it Means to Be Asexual, Aromantic, Demi or Grey-Ace by Eris Young
hopeful
informative
inspiring
reflective
medium-paced
4.0
Ace Voices shares the collected interviews of forty people about their a-spec/aroace identities and experiences. Each segment of the book organizes moments from these interviews around central topics and includes discussion questions for self-reflection. It feels like a book for the community, including those who might not yet be sure if it suits them. Its purpose isn't to explain aroace identities to others, though anyone could learn something from what it has to say.
Even as someone who's been aware of the ace spectrum and my connection to it for a while, there were some good takeaways that taught me something new or asked me to consider something on a deeper level. In some sections, it gave me words for a phenomenon I've felt but couldn't have described myself. I think it's the power of many voices to provide those kinds of opportunities even if you feel well-informed.
One such topic was the idea of "gold star aces" as a consequence of visibility campaigns led by the ace community. They highlighted aces who fit other ideals like having romantic partners to make an ace identity seem more palatable/less scary to other people. While the goal was to show how reality differs from the robotic stereotype of an a-spec identity, it created this ideal that actually alienates many who could be a part of the community. It makes it hard for people with intersections that are actively not represented (like BIPOC people or those with disabilities or men) to relate to what being ace looks like according to this narrow view. It also flattens the variety of the asexual spectrum and ignores aromantic ones entirely.
And just as the ace community isn't appropriately welcoming enough to all who ought to be included, the broader queer community isn't always structured with a-spec people in mind. For example, the LQBTQIA+ community has long had good reason to embrace sex positivity, but in some spaces, that can translate to a feeling of compulsory sexuality. A feminist space or a queer one that might be otherwise affirming can become alienating when conversations assume a comfortability with experiencing and discussing physical intimacy that not all a-spec people enjoy (or only do in some specific scenarios).
I appreciate the author's goal of not making the book all about what a-spec people aren't or don't want. For example, it's not all about not wanting sex or romance. It's about the relationships aces value, especially friendships. This can be a source of great joy but also of struggle in a society where friendships are at the bottom of the relationship hierarchy. Friends might enter into romantic/sexual relationships and no longer have time or space for their platonic connections. Friendship is associated with adolescence-- something to discard when your all-consuming "adult" relationship comes along. It's a further layer that infantilizes the ace experience along with the judgments for not taking up those so-called adult relationships for themselves. The author points out that the hierarchy is unfortunate for everyone because friendships lack all the social trappings and limitations that come with romantic ones. It's a freeing space for both a-spec and allo people when done right.
I also think the book does a great job of distinctly including both asexual and aromantic experiences, especially because aromantic ones are generally harder for people to understand and less visible than asexual identities. Romance is ubiquitous and taken for granted in society, yet we can't clearly delineate its boundaries. It's important to consider what romantic attraction means as its own thing separate from something sexual or platonic. It's an individual decision, and the book explores how a-spec people are kind of at the forefront of trying to figure it out. Is it just a feeling? How do you identify it? When and how does it matter? I learned the phrase "queerplatonic" for relationships beyond the romantic/platonic binary. This could be a situation where people take on roles as life partners without ascribing a romantic lens to it, and yet it's not the same as other friendships. The author also explores poly relationships to show how not just a-spec people but anyone could find freedom beyond strict, monogamous relationship expectations. Both queerplatonic and poly arrangements can give a-spec people a more open space to communicate and get what they need.
This is an interesting read, and I envision myself returning to it in the future to spend more time reflecting on the discussion questions. Thanks to Jessica Knightley for my copy to read and review!
Even as someone who's been aware of the ace spectrum and my connection to it for a while, there were some good takeaways that taught me something new or asked me to consider something on a deeper level. In some sections, it gave me words for a phenomenon I've felt but couldn't have described myself. I think it's the power of many voices to provide those kinds of opportunities even if you feel well-informed.
One such topic was the idea of "gold star aces" as a consequence of visibility campaigns led by the ace community. They highlighted aces who fit other ideals like having romantic partners to make an ace identity seem more palatable/less scary to other people. While the goal was to show how reality differs from the robotic stereotype of an a-spec identity, it created this ideal that actually alienates many who could be a part of the community. It makes it hard for people with intersections that are actively not represented (like BIPOC people or those with disabilities or men) to relate to what being ace looks like according to this narrow view. It also flattens the variety of the asexual spectrum and ignores aromantic ones entirely.
And just as the ace community isn't appropriately welcoming enough to all who ought to be included, the broader queer community isn't always structured with a-spec people in mind. For example, the LQBTQIA+ community has long had good reason to embrace sex positivity, but in some spaces, that can translate to a feeling of compulsory sexuality. A feminist space or a queer one that might be otherwise affirming can become alienating when conversations assume a comfortability with experiencing and discussing physical intimacy that not all a-spec people enjoy (or only do in some specific scenarios).
I appreciate the author's goal of not making the book all about what a-spec people aren't or don't want. For example, it's not all about not wanting sex or romance. It's about the relationships aces value, especially friendships. This can be a source of great joy but also of struggle in a society where friendships are at the bottom of the relationship hierarchy. Friends might enter into romantic/sexual relationships and no longer have time or space for their platonic connections. Friendship is associated with adolescence-- something to discard when your all-consuming "adult" relationship comes along. It's a further layer that infantilizes the ace experience along with the judgments for not taking up those so-called adult relationships for themselves. The author points out that the hierarchy is unfortunate for everyone because friendships lack all the social trappings and limitations that come with romantic ones. It's a freeing space for both a-spec and allo people when done right.
I also think the book does a great job of distinctly including both asexual and aromantic experiences, especially because aromantic ones are generally harder for people to understand and less visible than asexual identities. Romance is ubiquitous and taken for granted in society, yet we can't clearly delineate its boundaries. It's important to consider what romantic attraction means as its own thing separate from something sexual or platonic. It's an individual decision, and the book explores how a-spec people are kind of at the forefront of trying to figure it out. Is it just a feeling? How do you identify it? When and how does it matter? I learned the phrase "queerplatonic" for relationships beyond the romantic/platonic binary. This could be a situation where people take on roles as life partners without ascribing a romantic lens to it, and yet it's not the same as other friendships. The author also explores poly relationships to show how not just a-spec people but anyone could find freedom beyond strict, monogamous relationship expectations. Both queerplatonic and poly arrangements can give a-spec people a more open space to communicate and get what they need.
This is an interesting read, and I envision myself returning to it in the future to spend more time reflecting on the discussion questions. Thanks to Jessica Knightley for my copy to read and review!