If you pay attention, it’s easy enough to spot every news story about asexuality in the entire English-speaking world. That’s what I do, I subscribe to Google alerts. Although I don’t read every story, because they’re mostly the same.
Oddly enough, this really isn’t possible to do for fictional representations of asexuality. This is partly because fictional representations have accumulated for a much longer period of time. But the biggest problem is that it’s so subjective. Nobody really agrees on which characters “count” and which do not.
For example, the most commonly cited asexual characters are the Doctor from Doctor Who, and Sherlock Holmes. But it seems to me that this is just because they’re popular characters to begin with, not because they’re particularly great asexual representations. The Doctor’s an alien, Holmes is the archetypical workaholic. In both cases, it seems like a tool to make a “weird” character and to avoid romantic themes. I can’t say that either character resonates with me.
What’s missing? What does an asexual character need to have in order to resonate with me? Or, to put it more profoundly, what is the essence of asexual experience? Obviously, this is a subjective question, and I’d love to hear your answers in the comments.
My own answer is that an asexual character must be self-aware of the difference.
It’s possible that somewhere in Sherlock or Doctor Who canon, the characters acknowledge their own difference, but if so, no big deal is ever made of it. The result is rather jarring to me. Doesn’t Sherlock think it’s odd that he’s not interested in relationships?
Or (at the risk of discussing a show I’ve never watched) take Sheldon from The Big Bang Theory. Sheldon is incredibly intelligent, but shows a complete lack of self-awareness. In the famous “Sheldon has no deal” quote, it’s Sheldon’s friend who identifies him as Not Into Anyone, not Sheldon himself. Come on, Sheldon’s got to know something’s up!
This seems to be something that allosexual people just repeatedly fail to predict about asexual people. Asexual people know they’re different, and know this difference has a profound effect on their life. So-called “asexual” characters don’t ever seem to talk about it. This is also true of “asexual” stereotypes of people with disabilities or people of certain ethnicities. Here’s Kaz talking about “asexual” stereotypes of marginalized women:
These, you see, are the things I do not see in the stereotypes about various groups of marginalised women:
I don’t see them organising, making their own communities, creating their own vocabulary. I don’t see them talking – about life and love, about having sex or negotiating relationships or aromanticism, about how strange the whole sex thing is from the outsider’s point of view, about anything like that. I don’t see them going on talk shows, doing interviews, being in pride parades or indeed doing anything visibilitywise. I don’t see them in discussion with LGBT societies, I don’t see them in talks with psychologists about the DSM-V and the problem that is HSDD. I don’t see them reading and writing erotica (some from the anthropologist’s perspective, some because they just find it hot), I don’t see them making sexual jokes, I don’t see them laying out their attitudes towards sex (fascinated? Indifferent? Repulsed? In-between? A combination?). […]
Out of all of these things missing in “asexual” stereotypes, the most basic is self-awareness.
I would go so far as to say that self-awareness trumps the fact that the character is inhuman. For an example that I’m actually familiar with, I have to refer to webcomics, because I love webcomics. So my example is Ms. Jones from Gunnerkrigg Court. Spoiling very little, Ms. Jones is not human, and does not show any emotion. But she is self-aware of what sets her apart from humans, and even discusses the time she realized this. She has (in my opinion, and the protagonist seems to think so as well) an unhealthy way of conceptualizing the difference. But then, so did most of us when we were younger. Ms. Jones resonates with me where Sherlock Holmes does not.
Do you disagree? Do different characters resonate for you? Let us know why!
The Asexual Agenda 
Oh I absolutely agree! What a wonderful post, and I’m thoroughly looking forward to the discussion. I would cite grey-a character Alex/Murphs from Khaos Komix, another webcomic.
I do think it’s interesting to note, when I was younger I was — only sort of aware of the difference between me and others (as far as sexuality was concerned), and it was probably articulated most by others remarking on it? Of course my origin story was rather different from most of them, having been Christian-homeschooled and identified strongly as a nerd from a young age, and I attributed my difference to this and didn’t *want* to consider sexuality at all, really. That to say, I think the descriptions of others can have their place in fictional stories, can help situate a character as ace in some way, but is certainly best done if the character is then shown reacting to that – whether as uncomfortable-I-don’t-want-to-think-about-it, or as agreeing (or disagreeing), or as indifferent (which then I think becomes a more nebulous question, yes).
I think it’s absolutely true that not showing interest in sex/relationships does not make a character an asexual character in any helpful sense. Some stories, especially adventure/fantasy stories, just don’t have time to spend on characters’ attractions *or* possible lack thereof; some characters just have nonsexual nonromantic roles — I don’t feel particularly represented by these stories or characters.
Furthermore, it’s unfortunate that we have to find potentially-ace characters by looking for those who “avoid romantic themes,” because that means none of the ones we find will, for example, date, which some real asexuals actually do.
I’m actually fine with other people being the ones who notice asexuality, as in your Sheldon example — I don’t think it’s ideal, but I do think it makes him an Asexual Character in a way that just-going-around-not-happening-to-be-attracted-to-anyone doesn’t.
Hmm. This is interesting. “Asexual people know they’re different, and know this difference has a profound effect on their life.” <– Said statement doesn't really match with my experience. When I hosted February's carnival, I wrote about how much of a non-issue my asexuality has been, both in terms of how I view myself and how other people have treated me. I actually found AVEN many years ago and then quickly forgot about it until refinding it about a year ago- that's how uninteresting I found my asexuality. So for me, it's not at all jarring for a character's potential asexuality to go unremarked, because that's pretty much been my experience. I've also seen several people write about how they used to think that everyone was asexual (cf. http://neutrois.me/2012/12/12/everybodys-asexual/) clearly not everyone who lacks sexual attraction is aware that they're different. I suspect there are lots of people in this category (lacks sexual attraction but doesn't dwell on it) that we're not aware of because, well, they don't feel the need to find/join an online asexual community. That said, I realize that self-awareness is a big deal for a lot of aces.
Yes, I may have exaggerated/overgeneralized, but to me that was the most important trait of an asexual character. Would you say that you don’t look for self-awareness in asexual characters? And if you don’t, do you look for anything else in particular?
Yep, I understand, your viewpoint is yours. Also, good questions for me- sorry for just nitpicking and not adding new stuff to the conversation. I guess I don’t look for asexual characters much? When I was younger I would often headcanon my favorite literary characters as ace/aro for as long as possible and then get grumpy when the author added sexual and romantic elements. (Cf: Alanna of Tortall. Anne of Green Gables, Jo March, etc.) Or at least I think that’s what I was doing? My fiction consumption is a lot lower these days. Will keep thinking, though.
I used to do exactly the same thing, Effi! Especially characters like Alanna, and especially Beka Cooper (who I totally read as ace until the third book). I’d be so happy that they weren’t getting carried away in romance and sex and then eventually they would be, and I’d just get a little bit less interested in them.
I did the same thing with the books I read! And I also used to think everyone else was asexual, though I didn’t think about it with that term– I just thought everyone else was like me.
I wonder if there’s a correlation, between assuming everyone is like you and reading books while viewing the characters, by “default,” as ace/aro?
Probably. Romantic/sexual plots and subplots are such a mainstay of fiction that I can easily imagine being accustomed to that while still thinking everybody’s ace/aro, but it’s much harder to imagine someone viewing fictional characters as ace/aro by default and real people as allo.
Yeah, I wasn’t aware of my asexuality or difference from others for the longest time either. I think it depends on each individual’s circumstance and experience. If you grow up in a conservative culture (which is my case), you’re more likely to be unaware of your asexuality. Also I was single for many years, when I just assumed I’d naturally want sex once in a relationship. Similarly, Sheldon is in the nerd circle, where many people are not crazy about / lack experience in dating or sex for other reasons, so he doesn’t seem too different. Plus, he’s very aloof about other people’s lives in the first place. But I think he did start to realize his difference now that he’s in a relationship with Amy, who shows increasing sexual desire toward him.
The reason I suspect Sheldon is ace is his genuine lack of interest in sex. Not because he’s shy or repressed, but sex simply doesn’t cross his mind at all.
From the perspective of a writer, it’s interesting.
I’m 160 pages into a webcomic that likely will not have a single romantic theme or arc. Is it because my characters are ace or aro? Honestly, I have no idea. They’re busy trying to save the world, so I haven’t gotten a chance to ask them. Is it because I’M ace and don’t really feel like romantic and sexual relationships are of any relevance to the stories I want to tell? That’s more likely.
But my story takes place on an alien planet with an alien culture, and my characters have (at least partially) and alien anatomy and chemical make-up. I guess the only question I could give a definite answer for is: “are they sexual like us?”, to which I’d say no. They’re probably a gray-asexual race that is only wired to experience sexual attraction toward another person during specific times as dictated by emotion and biology. They also have very little in the way of secondary sex characteristics (which is more in line with my personal ideal as a non-gendered person), so their measure of desirability is almost entirely formed by action instead of looks.
I’m not trying to justify myself with all of that, but just adding in another voice to the chorus that says it’s actually a little complicated to get at in practice.
There’s probably a lot to be said about how sexuality and other social phenomena are represented in fantastical or alien worlds. Rather than looking for specific characters, you can also look for themes represented in abstract by the society at large. For example, The Left Hand of Darkness speculated about the results of a society where people are asexual and genderless, except at certain times in the month. Does this count as an exploration of asexual themes? (I didn’t think so.)
In a case like that–and that’s why there is so much gray area, realistically–I would actually say that, yes, it is an exploration of asexuality. But the question then becomes whether it’s a weak or strong exploration. That, and my story, are rather weak explorations.
I don’t often believe that a creator’s interpretation of their own work is any more meaningful than anyone else’s, but in a case like this, where the intention is to “properly” represent a thing, then that perspective does become valuable and adds another attribute of the work to be taken into account.
I also think it’s a little unfair to restrict the ace narrative to something deliberate and explicit, because, like others are saying below, that’s not everyone’s experience. My asexuality is not an important aspect of my life, I have never felt the need to come out about it, and it’s never played a major role in any conflict I’ve ever had. Storytelling is weird in that things need to be made obvious in order for them to technically exist in the narrative, but I don’t feel comfortable with the notion that a character must deliberately reference their asexuality in order for a story to become an “exploration” of asexual themes.
I’d say that Sheldon is perfectly well aware that something’s up; it’s just that he reverses the self-awareness you’re talking about. He’s an arrogant prick, and not at all given to introspection, so whenever he notices differences between himself and other people (which he does), he never thinks “how and why am I different?”; it’s always “why is everyone else insane?”
Whoops, long rambling answer time.
I’m gonna have to second Effi here and say that it’s not that surprising for aces to not be entirely aware of their differences from other people. I fell into the “knew I was different from everyone else really early on and felt awful because of it” category, but I know a surprising number of aces who didn’t even think about their sexuality until they were in their twenties.
Also, with some of these characters, we don’t KNOW that they aren’t aware that they’re different–we just never see them talk about it on camera/on the page. Heck, I knew I was “different” in my early teens, found out about asexuality shortly after my 17th birthday, and refused to talk to anyone about it until I was almost 20. That’s roughly 6 years of knowing that I was different from everyone else without every bringing it up with anyone, and without trying to reach out to anyone. I would, following your definition, have made a terrible asexual character. But if you don’t have any other aces around you and you don’t feel comfortable being out, who exactly would you talk to? If you are scared that you were the only ace in the world (which, for aces who KNOW they’re different from a young age but don’t know that other aces exist, is a pretty common belief), why would you bring attention to yourself? Wouldn’t you want to feign ignorance or pretend you fit in in order to avoid being ostracized? Because that’s definitely what I did. Did it work? No, not at all. None of my friends were surprised when I came out, because I am glaringly ace. So from an outside perspective it certainly would have looked as though I was entirely lacking in self-awareness.
I think, unless you have a narrating character who is ace OR the media you’re watching/reading/playing is a character study, it’s not unreasonable to have ace characters who may seem to be ignorant of their sexuality (in an attempt to pass or just because they don’t think they’re different), especially if they’re not incredibly brave people/in a supportive environment for aces. Obviously it’s much easier with narrating characters or perspective characters* to show that a character is self-aware but trying to pass, and as we get more ace characters in media, we’ll see more of that. In fact, if you look at the confirmed asexual characters in media (Anwar in Shades of A, Robbie and Orson in Ignition Zero, Gerald in Shortland Street, Tori in Quicksilver, etc.), the majority of them are narrating/perspective characters and/or in situations in which they would be forced to come out/would be comfortable coming out to people.
I guess my point is that just because a character doesn’t out themselves to everyone 24/7 and doesn’t talk about being ace doesn’t necessarily mean they aren’t self-aware, and if we really want media that reflects asexual experiences (ESPECIALLY “average” asexual experiences rather than “super activist” asexual experiences) it’s a bit unreasonable to expect all ace characters to be so open about their sexuality. We need more narrating ace characters (who can try and fail to pass, who can obsess behind closed doors but pretend that they know exactly what’s what when they’re in public, who can be isolated and scared of being alone and try not to show it), and we need more ace characters in accepting communities (who would feel safe coming out to people and talking about their sexuality and drawing a million graphs on every surface). And, yes, we do need some super activist ace characters who will be out and proud against all odds, but we need to remember that super activists are’t everyone. And the aces who are extremely self-aware? Tend to find the ace community, tend to be part of the ace community, and tend to be involved in drawing all the graphs and making all the models and analyzing everything to pieces. (This tends to be true of the confirmed ace characters as well!) So unless an ace character is part of an ace community, I’m not going to necessarily expect them to have that level of self-awareness or self-confidence.
Also, minor note, when you’re talking about Sherlock Holmes, I assume you’re referring to the version of him in BBC Sherlock? Because in the original ACD canon he most certainly does recognize and acknowledge that he is different from other people, and professes (several times) no interest in marriage or romantic entanglements. (The version of Holmes in Elementary is also supremely aware that he is different from other people.) Since there are so many versions of Holmes out there, it might be a good idea to specify which one you’re talking about.
*By this I mean characters from whose perspective the show/book/video game plays out. I would say John Watson is the perspective character of BBC Sherlock, and the companions tend to be the perspective characters of Doctor Who–in both cases it’s learning about a mysterious or confusing character through a more “normal” character’s perspective.
I’m glad people are disagreeing with me, and feel strongly about it!
When people say it, it strikes me as immediately obvious that many aces are not self-aware of their aceness, and I would say that I have not always been self-aware myself. But self-awareness is still very important to me in an ace character, even if this isn’t a standard I would apply in real life. Without self-awareness, it doesn’t really strike me as having asexual themes.
I’m not sure what other people look for in asexual characters, but I imagine some people might just look for the lack of interest in sex. Even though some asexuals are interested in sex. And since I don’t personally relate to the lack of interest in sex, I actually don’t care about that aspect in an asexual character, as weird as that might sound.
It’s been a long time since I read any Sherlock Holmes short stories, but I don’t recall relationships ever being discussed in them. It was probably discussed somewhere in the canon, but not in the part that I read. I am also probably biased against Sherlock Holmes simply because I don’t care for it (whereas I really like Gunnerkrigg Court). I don’t mind admitting to double standards!
I’d be much more likely to look for a sense of isolation or a feeling that something is “off” than self-awareness. Self-awareness is hard, while a sense that something isn’t quite right or that you’re not quite like other people (even if you can’t entirely articulate HOW) tends to be something I hear a lot of in narratives from aces new to the community. A lot of the time, it seems like self-awareness comes with finding the community and finding words for your experiences.
Oh, I could list quite a few Holmes stories where they discuss relationships–the first one that comes to mind is in “The Sign of Four” when Watson tells Holmes he’s gotten engaged and Holmes gives him the most gloomy congratulations in the world, telling him that he’s super bummed that Watson’s going to run off and get married ’cause marriage seems pretty dull, all things considered. There’s also “The Adventure of the Copper Beeches,” where Watson aggressively ships Holmes and the female lead throughout the story and then is extremely disappointed that they’re not interested in becoming his OTP. I confess that I mostly read the stories for Holmes’s relationship shenanigans, as the mysteries themselves aren’t terribly interesting to me.
I think it depends on how you interpret “interested in sex”. Aces definitely can be interested in sex intellectually, and some may even want to experiment sexually, but it’s very different from sexuals’ interest in sex. For example, Amy (and most other characters in TBBT) shows a strong interest in having sex for the sake of sex (i.e. not just to satisfy her curiosity), which Sheldon can never relate to. This is the essence of his asexuality IMO. He’s also not very interested in the topic of sex in general, and often oblivious of sexual innuendos, but these things are not crucial. Just my two cents. 🙂
This also!
What does “interested” and “not interested” in sex/romance mean and look like? Is not pursuing a sexual or romantic relationship over the course of a story enough? Is passive disinterest too wishy-washy, or does a character need to verbally rebuff advances, face and answer questions and so on? Why is “brokenness” an important quality of an ace narrative we should be looking for? That just seems wrong to me to expect that even most of the time.
(Super late comment but) I agree with you that self-awareness of their asexuality is, at least often, important in fiction.
Like, everyone who commented here is self-aware, aren’t they? Even if a character had started out their life unaware that they’re ace, by the time they reach the point the piece of fiction is set, they could have been exposed to the culture.
And even if it doesn’t mirror my experience (of not realising for a long time) I prefer the self-aware type to things like the Sheldon example where other comment on his strangeness because I really, really, really hate the narrative of outsiders defining a person, or knowing a person better than they know themselves.
(Slight side track: I don’t like vagueness as much either. Because guess what happens if they’re not defined as ace or bi or gay or pan? They’re coded as heterosexual).
Which is partly because of my personality, but also because “I know you better than you know yourself” is such a large part of ace invalidation.
I agree that it’s good to have variety in ace characters. Part of the reason why I was so excited when Michael Lunsford confirmed my Fiona headcanon is that she’s not just another ace character who’s comfortable with their orientation and sees it more or less as a non-issue, like Robbie, Orson, Anwar, Erin, and others. She’s not aware of asexuality, and she’s having the common ace experience of feeling broken, and beating herself up over it. Moreover, as she is trapped in an alternate universe where (unless I’m much mistaken) there is no Internet, she is completely cut off from the ace community, and her chances of learning about asexuality are negligible. She doesn’t even have anyone who’d be good to talk to about what she’s going through. I’m very interested to see where Michael is going with this.
… And so much for that. Apparently, she knew all along, didn’t make that clear, and was beating herself up over it anyway. I am glad to see her orientation made completely explicit, but at the same time, Fiona seems a little less realistic to me now.
I actually identified with that myself. Just because you know that there’s a word for what you are doesn’t erase any insecurities that may come with it. It certainly helps, but knowing that you’re called asexual aromantic doesn’t make living in a world of hyper-sexualized mega-romance any less lonely. The feelings of brokenness don’t magically stop, and if they do it’s usually because you found the support you needed, which as you pointed out, Fiona’s not getting.
True. It doesn’t automatically erase the loneliness and insecurities, and I shouldn’t have implied that that was the case. But finding and exploring the ace community, and identifying with it (which Fiona must have done – some people do come up with the term ‘asexual’ independently, but independently separating the concepts of sexual attraction and romantic attraction and coining the term ‘aromantic’ would be a HUGE stretch, especially for someone who doesn’t have a mixed orientation) does tend to increase self-awareness, help with confusion of identity, provide one with new language for talking about oneself, result in getting community support if needed, and be at least a little empowering. Until the current fight scene, Fiona seemed to me to be doing a fantastic impression of someone who had never gotten any of that. Or maybe I’m over-thinking this, and Fiona had only learned the term ‘aromantic asexual’ the day before she was whisked away to the magical land of no Internet.
For me, to have genuine asexual characters in fiction, I feel like they need to be self-aware – not necessarily saying that they are asexual and using that terminology, but being quite conscious of the idea that they are not interested in traditional romantic/sexual relationships, and being open about that to themselves. (Doesn’t mean they have to be perfectly ok with that from page one!) I think that’s why I got so excited when Queenie posted her review of Quicksilver, where the main character actually goes through the whole ‘Yeah, I’m actually just not interested, and just don’t feel all these things’ process.
I really like Jones for Gunnerkrigg Court as well, Siggy! I also read Annie as kind of ace (and freaked out a while back when it seemed like she got that love letter… Thinking that Annie might start getting some sort of romantic plotline now). What do you think?
I’m not convinced that Annie is headed in the direction of asexuality, but it’s clear that more will be revealed as the story continues! I anti-ship Annie/Kat (meaning I think it would be really cool if they never end up as a couple), but then I tend to anti-ship most character pairings.
I find Annie and Kat’s friendship beautiful. That panel where they’re both on Kat’s bed together warms my heart. (Also, I love that they are not a couple!)
I think we need both kinds of ace characters– or all kinds of ace characters. Aces who call themselves “ace” and are activists; aces who call themselves “ace” and aren’t activists; ace who don’t call themselves “ace,” but know there’s something different about them; aces who are oblivious to the existence of sexual attraction; etc. We need all kinds of ace characters because there are all kinds of aces.
How does that work out specifically in terms of fictional characters and visibility? That, I’m not sure.
Oh, I don’t know if I’m ready for a character that is not only ace but an activist! Fiction tends not to be kind to activists.
For me I find that asexual characters need to either have it spelt out that they are asexual or it is made very clear in their behaviour. I tend to just let the characters develop and not worry about their orientation unless it becomes relevant to the plot, as its just something I don’t tend to dwell on and figure if it is relevant the author will make it clear (either explicitly or through behaviour,but the latter isn’t always reliable).
It is certainly easier to relate to characters once their asexuality is made clear. The only story I’ve read though that has done that though is Sex Brood which has main characters that are clearly asexual both in self identifying and behaviour. The characters in it are probably the only characters I identify with in any fiction I’ve read that relates to my identity as asexual. In many other cases I don’t do so as it isn’t as clear or the portrayal puts me off (eg. Sheldon).
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Hello, this is a great post and a great blog! It is really important that someone actually describes the quality of self-awareness that many writers seem to forget and since I am a writer that is currently writing a story with an asexual character, and I would really want to make her seem like a genuine person. I try to include as much variety in the characters of my stories as possible and I also want to do it properly.
I am an allosexual, so I understand that I won’t be able to understand fully what it means to be asexual. Yeah, for a long time asexuality was just that “how can they just not like sex?” thing but after one of my friends came out as an ace, I actually started to put thought on it and realize how asexuality is not weird or abnormal or a sign that they just aren’t mature enough to have sex yet, no. It’s just sort of the lack of sexual attraction and that is simply how some people are. No big deal.
And before I realized that it is in fact just another sexuality among the others, it didn’t really cross my mind that actual asexuals might feel like there’s something wrong with them, just like the other LGBTQIA+ etc. folks can. The world is sexualized, surely, and it’s not that big of a deal for me personally but if someone just isn’t interested, it probably gets frustrating to be in a place where sex is the main topic of the century or something.
And yeah, I headcanon characters like the Doctor or Sherlock Holmes as asexuals, but I never really realized that if they are canonically asexual, it would be bad representation. I was just excited to think of them as a representation overall and it made me happy to link asexuals to them, in the sense that “asexuals are these awesome beings who can achieve brilliant things because/even though they aren’t sexually attracted to anyone” and even though I personally like that sense of thinking, asexuals are basically just people whose sexuality doesn’t really control their daily lives. Like, the Doctor would probably be just as brilliant to me even if I thought of him as allosexual because he isn’t controlled by his sexuality. I am homosexual and that’s just a part of me and no big deal.
What I would find really interesting is to see a story of an asexual teenager, who realizes their sexuality and struggles with it and then comes to terms with it. Even though the writer said in the article “Confirmed asexual characters in fiction” that they had read most of the LGBT YA books and the basic plot was “a teenage boy who is gay”, those sort of books helped at least me to come to terms with the fact that I might not be straight myself. And yes, even though I do oppose to the current system that ALL LGBT books are About Being Gay, I still find those books almost as important as books that have genuine plots and LGBTQIA+ characters with a purpose.
But since asexuality is still “the weird thing” to so much of the world, I guess it would be important to start with the books about a cute little asexual figuring out that they just don’t experience sexual attraction and it’s okay and they are normal and they are not alone. Baby steps, in a way? (Not sure if I’m overstepping my boundaries by giving these tips but I hope you understand that I only want to make asexuality visible and seen as common as any other sexuality and apologize deeply if I have said anything offending.)
And yeah, I realize that this was posted over a year ago, but I just wanted to tell you this – your article has been read by someone who aspires to make a difference. I want to learn about asexuality and this text has helped me understand it a bit more. Thank you.
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