The Dangers of Sexualizing Non-Sexual Characters
Image description: Jeri Ryan as Seven of Nine in Star Trek: Voyager. Seven is a frequent subject on this blog and today she gets referenced for a very clear and (I think) very important reason. |
Knowing yourself is a wonderful thing. But for me, there’s
something about knowing who I am that is both a source of strength and a major
downside – the more self-awareness I’ve acquired about myself and my identity,
the more I’ve tended to distance myself from things that annoy me. This is great
from a self-worth standpoint, but terrible from a fandom one, because, for all
the amazing things one can find in a good fandom, something you can always find
in abundance are things that annoy you. For most people, these might simply be
pairings they dislike or people who love characters they hate; for me, it can
sometimes mean dealing with aspec erasure, seeing how aspec content creators
and fans are discriminated against in fandom spaces, or just being subjected to
things I simply don’t want to see or think about.
Over the years, I’ve become far less likely to tolerate the
types of things I used to just grin and bear when it comes to fandom
interactions, and as a result I’ve tended to push myself away from fandom drama
and other things I find difficult to deal with. While I do believe that self-care
sometimes involves not subjecting yourself to things you know will upset you if
you don’t have to, the consequence is that I often find myself pushed out of
fandom spaces. This is an issue I’ve discussed at length previously in a post
about the dangers of shipping, as well as in other posts. For the most part,
this is a choice I myself am making, and as such I accept these consequences.
But although I choose to remove myself from these situations, they are still
happening to other aspec people on the internet, and are ensuring that fandom
spaces are still troublesome environments for aspec content creators, which is
why this issue is so important to me.
These spaces don’t exist in a vacuum, as I mention in my
“Compulsory Romance” trope essay; rather, they are spaces that can influence
how allosexual people view aspec fans and content creators alike. They are
spaces where aspec people come in the hopes of finding representation, and instead find erasure.
In the future, I plan on looking at this issue more in depth, as well as
perhaps taking a look at how fandom spaces as a whole can become better for
people across the asexual and aromantic spectrums. But for this post, I want to
look at a specific issue that has always troubled me, one that was rather
influential in my decision to remove myself from most fandom spaces: the
tendency to sexualize characters that are otherwise non-sexual and/or
non-romantic.
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Just as a preface to everything I’m about to say – I
acknowledge that fandom spaces thrive on exploring characters and their
sexuality. I understand and respect that this often means smut fanfic, explicit
fan art, and discussions about the sex lives of various characters. This is not
a bad thing at all. I have a lot of fandom friends who are smut writers who
nevertheless embrace me as an aspec fan and support my ventures, and I know
there are many fans for whom fandom provides a necessary safe haven to explore
topics of sexuality in a healthy way. That is essential and valuable, so my
critique today does not center on those things. What it centers on is the
tendency of some fans or fandoms to completely erase a character’s non-sexual
or non-romantic tendencies, and then shout down any fans – aspec or otherwise –
who dare to believe something different.
This can happen for a variety of reasons. In some cases,
fans become very passionate in their belief about certain pairings and how
those pairings would interact. In other cases, fans who write sexual works or
create sexually explicit art may view people who hold dissenting opinions as
criticizing them and their creative endeavors. But I personally believe the
biggest reason this happens is because of a character’s appearance, and that
characters who are considered conventionally attractive are also seen as off-limits
for aspec interpretation. There are a few especially pronounced examples of
this that I myself have personally experienced.
For my first example, I’m going to pray I don't ignite a firestorm by mentioning one of my absolute favorite characters from the video game Dragon Age: Inquisition, Commander Cullen Rutherford. There are two reasons why said firestorm could erupt. The first is because the fandom tends to be intensely divided over Cullen – one side
adores him, one side vitriolically hates him. The second is because those of us who love him
generally agree he is extremely attractive, and this leads to him being something
of a romantic lead in a lot of fan content (something I am very familiar with).
But there are many in the fandom, especially those of us on the asexual
spectrum, who generally seem to agree on something else – that his
personality and backstory make it seem plausible to us that Cullen would be on the
asexual spectrum too (the most common perception is that he could be
demisexual). However, if you mention this within fandom circles, there is an
excellent chance you will get completely torn to shreds.
There is usually no clear reason for why this occurs, so I
can’t say for certain, but it seems to me it’s precisely because Cullen is attractive and people want to "ship" him with other characters. This is
something I can understand and relate to. As someone who has spent an absurd
amount of time doing just that and who believes doing so makes so much sense, I
have absolutely no complaint with it. In fact, I love seeing people’s fan art
and fanfiction about him. What I don’t love is the idea that Cullen surely must “get around” (despite most evidence to the contrary)
simply because he is attractive, or the notion that fans who disagree with that
sentiment are childish, naïve, or worthy of ridicule.
Beyond just these troubling elements, even fans who honor Cullen's character and story can sometimes inadvertently make the fandom feel a
bit unwelcoming for someone like me. For example, while enjoying romantic fan
art of Cullen or stories about him, I am often also subjected to sexual
art or explicit opinions about him that other fans are careless about properly
labeling. This plays into a much larger issue of assuming that everyone within
a fandom space experiences things the same way and that surely they must be okay
with the same content, which is of course completely false. Even those of us
who like him or the notion of him being a romantic lead don’t
necessarily want to see him be pushed into overly sexualized situations, or see
them develop too quickly within a narrative. However, this opinion sometimes
seems to be in the extreme minority of the fandom, and thus it is by and large
steamrolled.
Image description: Dragon Age: Inquisition's Cullen Rutherford, aka, the love of my life. Although headcanoning Cullen as aspec never seems to be a very good way to win friends and influence people in the Dragon Age fandom, I personally find it extremely rewarding even so and will continue to do it. |
This is also an issue with Inquisition's Josephine and Cole, both of whom I've discussed in the past. In Cole’s case, there are quite a few players who ship their characters with him or who wish he was a romance option (and, of course, any long-time reader of this blog knows the way the game pushes him into these situations too under certain circumstances). When it comes to Josephine, she actually is a romance option within the game, but I’ve seen some people within the fandom who view her romance as boring. Again, I can’t say with complete certainty why that is, but I can make a guess that it’s probably because her romance doesn’t have a sex scene and Josie herself is generally considered by fans to be aspec. I have also seen the sentiment from some players that, because Josephine is pretty, the hope is that the player will eventually be able to have sex with her, a wish that is never clearly fulfilled by the game and leads me back to that stereotype that her romance is boring.
The notion that an attractive character should also be a
sexual one is likewise very pronounced with Star Trek: Voyager’s Seven of Nine, another frequent subject of this blog. Seven’s case is a bit
unique, because she is a character for whom this phenomenon actually occurred
within the media she was in. Talk to a Star Trek fan, and they will
probably be able to tell you about Seven’s infamous “cat suits,” the skin-tight
outfits actress Jeri Ryan was forced into throughout an overwhelming majority
of the show’s run. These terrible outfits (which were occasionally so tight that
Jeri Ryan literally could not breathe in them) are given a story purpose for
their existence, but their true purpose is clear – to show off Jeri Ryan’s
figure to a presumed straight male audience, which is the reason why the
character of Seven of Nine was created in the first place.
Despite the inception of her character being the “sexy Borg babe,” Seven manages to transcend this limitation and become an incredible
character. I believe this is thanks to moments where Seven’s journey is one of
personal growth, and where she breaks out of the overly sexualized roots of
her character’s origin. But of course, if you’re a regular reader of my blog,
you know I definitely have some thoughts on the things that are done to Seven’s
character over the course of Voyager’s run. Despite numerous moments in
which Seven has non-sexual and/or non-romantic tendencies or does things that
feel identifiable from an aspec perspective, there are notable instances where
she is pushed into romantic relationships seemingly out of the blue. To me, these
moments feel shoehorned in, and seem like they were included simply because the
show’s writers couldn’t fathom that an attractive character wasn’t in a
relationship, or perhaps were even trying to give those aforementioned presumed
straight male viewers the ability to project themselves onto Seven’s romantic
partners.
This all brings me to the core of this post – why the sexualization
of non-sexual characters has the potential to be so harmful. Now, in my view,
there is a big difference between portraying a character’s sex life and
sexualizing them. To illustrate that difference, I want to return to the
earlier example of Cullen Rutherford. This is a
character who endured quite a bit of trauma in his young adult years and who undergoes
a great deal of healing to get to a place where he feels in control of his life
again. Part of this happens behind the scenes as part of a personal journey that lasts over a decade and involves missteps, course corrections, guilt,
shame, and PTSD. He is also a very duty-driven character with a lot of
responsibility that falls upon his shoulders. Once he gets to a point where he
is ready for a relationship, I see no problem with fan creators portraying him
as being intimate with a romantic partner; if the time and care that goes into
such a relationship is likewise portrayed well, it is even perfectly keeping
with the demisexual nature many aspec fans see in him. But I have seen other
fans who are adamant that Cullen would not be a virgin and lambast fans
who believe him to be such, as well as content creators who believe he would be
voraciously sexual and attack fans who try to headcanon him as demisexual or
demiromantic.
In this particular case, I believe a lot of the tension can
be chalked up to simply not knowing what demisexuality is. But it can’t
entirely be blamed on simple misunderstandings or lack of knowledge, and this
is where sexualization comes into play. There is a lot of analysis out there
that examines the over-sexualization of characters, particularly women and sometimes
queer characters as well. Over-sexualization is harmful because it reduces a
character – and people in general – to a stereotype of hyper-sexuality that is
often used for kinky fanservice and wish fulfillment rather than portraying them
as an individual who may or may not choose to express sexuality. But in my
opinion, something similar happens when characters with canonical non-sexual (and
sometimes non-romantic) tendencies are sexualized as well, which is why I tend
to harp on the subject so frequently on this blog. When you take a character who
has seemingly aspec tendencies and ignore these tendencies in favor of
fulfilling wish, fantasy, or expectation, that character is suddenly being
reduced to a stereotype as well. I’ve talked at length about harmful tropes
used against aspec people in media, and this type of sexualization often leads
to that, whether intentionally or unintentionally. It also leads to erasure,
either explicit or implicit (look at the example of Riverdale choosing to toss
out Jughead Jones’ canon AroAce identity), and can ensure that aspec people
have to fight even harder to belong in fandom spaces.
However, something I’ve personally experienced is that this
problem is not just limited to fandoms or fandom experiences, but trickles out
into the real world as well. For instance, not only do these issues cause me to
distance myself from fandom, but they lead to me feeling a level of dissatisfaction
and dissonance even with media itself, especially regarding future installments
of media I love. I find myself completely unenthusiastic about the future of certain
franchises (like Star Trek or Dragon Age, for example) because I’m
fearful these things will build upon their previous mistakes and feed into the cycle
of sexualizing seemingly non-sexual characters or situations. Rather than
looking on in eager anticipation of new characters and plot points like most
people can, I find myself nervously wondering in what ways I will once again be
made to feel invisible or uncomfortable. Rather than enjoying myself and
having fun, I begin wondering with dread if I will no longer find a piece of
media accessible because sexualization takes over and steals something from me
that was otherwise a safe haven.
This is something I touched upon briefly in my Pride post,
and it’s definitely one of the major hurdles in feeling totally proud of my
identity. It’s easy to ask myself “what’s wrong with me?” when I can’t feel the
same level of excitement about things as others; even worse when I see people
actively hoping for otherwise non-sexual things to become sexual. It also means
I always wonder if I will lose the things that matter to me; thus I go into
new pieces of media with a certain level of anxiety, and as a result sometimes choose
to not engage with new media at all. In a way, I create a self-fulfilling prophecy
– in anticipating the day these things will eventually push me out or alienate
me, I alienate myself from them first.
The hurdles that I personally face with these issues are mine to work through. As I discussed in a previous post, there is a certain level of power and self-love inherent in accepting the fact that some things simply aren’t meant for me and learning to be okay with that fact. But the heart of this matter isn’t a misplaced desire to find everything accessible or to have things cater to me. Rather, it’s the hope that people can learn to better accept the preferences and needs of other people, and do their best to not infringe on spaces where people like me do find a modicum of acceptance.
The core issue of this post reminds me of one of my favorite under-the-radar aspec headcanons, which I first saw many years ago on Tumblr: that Jessica Rabbit, the buxom femme fatale from the 1988 live-action-meets-animation film Who Framed Roger Rabbit, is asexual. Although I have never seen the film, I know Jessica Rabbit is considered an animated sex symbol - a busty pin-up girl, barely covered by a sequin-heavy gown, who is sexualized both in the film and outside of it. But the Tumblr post pointed something out, a line in which Jessica remarks, “I’m not bad, I’m just drawn that way.” It’s apparently a somewhat iconic line for the character, but the post argues that it’s more than just a quip, it’s a declaration that “sexy” doesn’t automatically mean “sexual,” and a challenge to expand our thinking. While there are of course people who disagree with this headcanon or the premise it’s based on, as there will always be in fandom, it nicely illustrates (pun not intended) many of the points I’ve tried to make with this post.
Overall, this issue is an extremely difficult one. There are
quite a few instances in fandom where the question is “where does artistic
license end and erasure begin?” and the answer isn’t always clear. Furthermore,
this is a very easy mistake to make, and it’s even easier to not react well when you see
something that challenges the world and/or character conceptualization you’ve
worked hard on. There is an old fandom adage that says “ship and let ship,” and
in this case, I think an equally important adage could be “identify and let
identify.” For many, exploring sexuality through their favorite characters is
an important way to process their own sexualities and to find freedom. But
there are also many people for whom exploring a lack of sexuality in their
favorite characters is important too.
Rather than fall back on the excuse that certain fandoms or fandom spaces are “mature spaces,” and only embrace “mature content” within them, I challenge all my fellow fans to allow aspec content creators to “identify and let identify” as well, even if it flies in the face of your conceptualization of a character or a ship you care about. Let aspec people have their spaces and their headcanons, as long as they don’t infringe on yours. Let them believe a character is aspec the way other marginalized groups are able to identity with characters. If fandom spaces are for everyone, let them be for everyone – even if they think the attractive male lead is aspec or that the go-to fandom pairing is better off platonic. And above all, do what you can to stop sexualizing otherwise non-sexual characters.
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