3 Books to Celebrate International Asexuality Day
Over the years, there have been several attempts to create a day for celebrating and acknowledging asexuality. And finally, today on April 6th, those efforts have been realized in the form of International Asexuality Day. While some aces and their friends will spend the day listening to ace podcasts or baking ace cakes, another great way to celebrate is by reading books by authors from the community.
From a love story between an ace woman and an alien to a family friendly fairy tale about an aroace knight, here are three books to help you celebrate International Asexuality Day.
The Sound of Stars by Alechia Dow
When the aliens known as Ilori invade Earth and enslave humanity, Ellie fights back the only way she knows how: she starts a library. The aliens have banned books and music under threat of execution, fearing that both could inspire rebellion. In spite of these risks, Ellie clings to the stories of her childhood, wishing to return to a time before the invasion. But as remnants of Earth’s prejudices and hatred resurface, Ellie is reminded that, as bad as things are now, they weren’t much better before.
The Sound of Stars is about racism, global warming, asexuality, and, of course, an alien invasion. It is also a love story between Ellie and the Ilori M0Rr1S, who was made in a lab and thus seen as subservient to the “true” Ilori. Though the Ilori view emotions as a weakness, M0Rr1S is unable to contain his love of music and, later on, interest in Ellie. As he says upon discovering her library, “He has to meet her, talk to her, ask her. Why does she rebel? What do these books mean to her? Do they make her feel less alone, like music makes him feel?” (35) Ellie, however, has no desire to know an alien who has caused so much harm to her people — not until he promises to help save her family from the Ilori’s next plan: worldwide brainwashing.
M0Rr1s and Ellie both fall on the asexual spectrum. Ellie knows this from the beginning, saying, “I’m demi-ace, because I’m attracted to people, but I wouldn’t want to date them or do anything else unless, until, I feel like I know them, and trust them. That we’ve bonded. That we’re friends.” (140). M0Rr1s, however, starts to understand his orientation only after learning Ellie’s own. Interestingly, there is a stereotype that ace people are aliens or robots, and M0Rr1s is, in a way, both. However, his depiction is not at all stereotypical, but rather the opposite — he is the only one of his emotionless race to crave and show emotion, thus rendering him more human than many of the human characters.
Along with its focus on sexuality, The Sound of Stars handles the topic of racism honestly and unflinchingly. In some ways, the new world is actually less harmful to marginalized races. As Ellie says,
(Before the Ilori), people would say they don’t see color, and I’d laugh. Did that mean they couldn’t see me? Was that supposed to make me feel good, equal? But now they have no choice… Our skin still angers some folks, but the Ilori don’t care at all, which is nice… to (M0Rr1s), I’m a human, not just a black girl from Brooklyn trying to fit in where she never belonged. (52, 126)
However, the book also seems to suggest that there is a way to overcome our prejudices if we are willing to meet them head on. In fact, the book’s title references an album in-universe, and when mentioning that album, the musician Cecil says this: “The Sound of Stars is about love during conflict. Bridges during division. It’s our present, our past and, we believe, our future” (13). The book is about these same things; it is about the passions that sustain us. It is about who we are, but also, everything we have the potential to become. It is about finding good in the bad and moving forward. It is about where we’ve come from, where we have the power to go.
The Dragon of Ynys by Minerva Cerridwen
If Minerva Cerridwen’s name looks familiar, it’s because she wrote a short story for a collection I’ve previously reviewed. In a few ways, her novella is similar to that story, as both are fairy tales concerned with marginalization and acceptance. However, The Dragon of Ynys still completely stands on its own, presenting a powerful, accessible tale about friendship, being yourself, and the importance of sharing own voices stories.
When the mayor’s golden chain goes missing, Sir Violet is summoned to find it. After some sleuthing, he makes his way to the cave of Snap the dragon and accuses him of having stolen it. Snap readily admits to the theft and returns the chain, but then continues stealing, and returning, even more goods for the next ten years. So, when the baker’s wife, Juniper, goes missing, Sir Violet immediately accuses the dragon. But this time, Snap is innocent. And he’s ready to prove it by helping Sir Violet track down Juniper and save the day.
During their journey, Snap admits that his thefts were all a bid to gain Sir Violet’s attention and possible friendship. This admission leads to one of Sir Violet’s own. As he says,
I thought you chose to be alone. That you were like me… I like the freedom of living on my own… Just having my own place where I don’t need to worry about anything. I never feel lonely there. I can choose to go out and meet friends, and maybe it would surprise you, but I have a lot of them. And I love them. But if I had to be around any one of them all the time, I would be exhausted (72, 73).
Sir Violet’s aromanticism and asexuality are addressed several more times in the book, and they’re always handled respectfully by the other characters. In fact, as the story progresses, the characters take on a new quest; they become determined to find a way to collect and spread tales of diversity in order “to prove that we do not need to be protected from our identities. That sticking with the expectations people have formed about us since birth is not the key to happiness. That if people are accepting, many problems can be solved…” (96). In this way, much like traditional fairy tales, the novella has a core message: we have the responsibility, and power, to teach others about acceptance. We have the responsibility, and power, to become better ourselves.
Dragons have long been a symbol of asexuality, but here, they also come to symbolize human connection. And because the book is intended to be family-friendly, that symbolism is easy to grasp, as are the book’s other themes. The book is also impressively inclusive, highlighting a lesbian relationship, several trans characters, and multiple instances in which characters refuse to conform to gender roles. Representation like this is rare to find in a YA book, which is unfortunate, since many young people are also ace, trans, etc. Those young people need to be part of these conversations about inclusivity and representation, and The Dragon of Ynys makes that possible.
Beyond the Black Door by A.M. Strickland
Part romance, part dark fantasy, A.M. Strickland’s Beyond the Black Door offers a profound take on what it means to confront, understand, and ultimately, accept all parts of ourselves, no matter how dark or confusing those parts may be. The main character, Kamai, is a soulwalker, and she can journey through people’s nehyms, or “soul houses,” as they sleep. However, she lacks a nehym of her own, which leads to her constant, consuming fear — that she might have no soul at all.
Alongside Kamai’s lack of a nehym, her disinterest in sex fuels her belief that something’s wrong with her, that she’s “broken.” As she says, “I’m some freak of nature. I’m all wrong. I don’t feel things like… like… Normal people.” (137). Further complicating matters, her mother is a pleasure artist, dealing in sex and secrets. And as Kamai gets older, she begins to wonder if she’ll be expected to take on that same profession. While she greatly respects and loves her mother, Kamai has no desire for sex, calling it “a supremely awkward thing I never wanted to do” (8) and showing distress in sexual situations. Remarking on one such experience, she says:
I was in my bed, and a girl, Ciari, was propped on her elbows above me, her long dark hair curtaining our faces. She was kissing me. And I was … trying … to kiss her back. I couldn’t silence the buzzing in my head. Not a pleasurable buzz, but more like an agitated hive of bees. I couldn’t think. There was only the hum of wrongness… I felt ruined. Broken. And for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why (27–29).
As Kamai works to sort through her complicated feelings toward sex and romance, her home is ambushed, and her story quickly evolves from identity crisis to full-on mystery. She needs to discover who committed the act, but the more she learns, the more questions she has. To make matters worse, she has trouble trusting anyone, from her fake stepbrother, Razim, to her distant father, whom she’s only just met. And then, there’s the matter of Vehyn, an otherworldly creature who appears when Kamai is at her lowest — who seems obsessed with her, but won’t say why, and claims to know the perpetrators behind the attack.
Along with its commendable ace representation, Beyond the Black Door offers a loving take on friendship, a thoughtful critique of gender roles, and a detailed, intriguing world mythology. Any one of these would be reason enough to read, and they seamlessly connect to the book’s greater mysteries and themes. As Kamai seeks to uncover those mysteries, she discovers more about her world and abilities. In turn, she grows closer to understanding who she is and accepting every facet of her identity.
For this first ever International Asexuality Day, we as a community have the chance to spread awareness and promote solidarity. And one way to do this is by sharing, and listening, to each other’s stories. Our unique experiences won’t be reflected in every story, but when those stories are combined, we’ll see the greater experience of the ace community. And once that narrative makes itself known, we as a community can become more visible, more connected, and even louder in our celebration.
