Book Thoughts: "Let's Talk About Love" by Claire Kann

Let's Talk About Love by Claire Kann follows a woman named Alice's summer after her college girlfriend abruptly breaks up with her because she's asexual. Well, not exactly -- Alice never came out to her, but they break up because of Alice's disinterest in sex. Soon after, though, Alice meets Takumi at work. As a friendship between the two blossoms, Alice has to decide if it's worth trying to make a relationship work again while also balancing her other friendships. It's a cheesy romance book that really works to define what love actually is. The main characters are dorky and sweet in all the ways one could dream of in a romance novel.

As there are still not many books written by and for asexuals, this one usually comes highly recommended. And I'm not going to refute that -- Kann does a really good job of outlining what asexuality is and how it works with other forms of attraction. While the book certainly has it's flaws, it still earned a 7/10 rating from me (although I'm sure by now we all know that books with asexual main characters get a decent score no matter what).

One of the biggest reasons I would recommend this book is because both Alice and Kann are black asexuals. Unfortunately, a lot of the time asexuality is seen as a "white thing." While this isn't true, it's not hard to understand where this comes from -- most amplified ace voices are white, black ace activists are critiqued in ways that white aces would never be (by both aces and allos), and black and brown people are a lot more sexualized already. We see this play out very bluntly in Let's Talk About Love in the very first scene, when Alice's girlfriend Margo is breaking up with her:

“‘I don’t see the point,’ Alice said. ‘I don’t need it [sex]. I don’t think about it.’

‘Sex?’ Margot laughed -- a tiny giggle, as if Alice had told a mildly funny joke. ‘But you’re Black.’”

Like with many (or, more accurately, all) communities, the asexual community has a lot of racism within it. To be an ally to the asexual community means supporting all of us, but especially the ones who are further marginalized by this community. And for those of us who are asexual, we have a responsibility to listen to (and, when we can, amplify) black ace voices when they are talking. This topic deserves a lot more attention than I can give it in a book review, so for today I will recommend other ace activists that you should absolutely go support. The first one is Yasmin Benoit (@/theyasminbenoit on Twitter), who is an aroace activist and a model. She's amazing in a lot of ways, and she has a Twitter thread that is a nice starting point for the racism in the asexual community. I'd also recommend checking out Marshall John Blount, or the Gentle Giant Ace (@/AceGentle on Twitter). He's another black asexual activist who often talks about the racism that black aces face. I follow him on Twitter, but he also has a YouTube channel where he discusses a variety of topics.

Black aces face so much more aphobia and general scrutiny than other asexual people, from both inside and outside of the ace community. As much as I complain about a lack of ace representation, the representation we do have means nothing if it’s whitewashed. I’m really happy that this book is one of the most popular ace books recommended, because black ace representation is so important.

The other thing I really enjoy is the way that this book really challenges what love looks like outside of heteronormative expectations. Most of the book focuses on Alice's journey as she learns to accept her own asexuality -- and disinterest in sex -- in a word where sex is the expectation in a “normal and healthy” relationship. We get to see how both her ex, Margo, and her new crush, Takumi, conceptualize sex in a relationship. I don’t think there’s a particularly right or wrong answer -- there’s certainly a wrong way to communicate beliefs with people, but this isn’t a completely black and white issue. That being said, I really like how Kann breaks down the role of sex in a relationship, and I thought her conclusions were really insightful.

More than anything, my favorite part of this book was how it was just a silly little romance book. Look, I’m a fan of those cheesy rom-coms (specifically of the Christmas variety) where we let go of the rules of reality in favor of the couple. Romance books are the same way, but usually adult romances have very sexual characters. It’s really nice to see an asexual protagonist in a story like this, and I’d love to see it more.

Now, I’m going to go into more details on parts of this book that I liked, and this is the spoiler wall. If you want to keep reading, you’ll have the book spoiled for you. Stop reading now if you want to avoid spoilers for Let's Talk About Love. If you want to read it (and I recommend you do), read it and come back later. You’ve been warned.

Like I said, I really enjoy the way that this book approaches the question of what love (that is, romantic love) and attraction actually is.

First, we see this addressed with everyone’s least favorite racist ex, Margot. At the beginning of the book when they’re breaking up, Margot tells Alice: “And I can’t be with someone who doesn’t desire me. You could never love me as much as I would love you. You understand that, don’t you?” Remember: Alice never came out as asexual to Margot, but aphobia doesn’t only apply when you’re saying it to an openly aspec person. So, is she right? In an allo/ace relationship, would an allosexual partner always inherently love their partner more? I understand where this idea comes from. I can’t speak for others, but I know that one my biggest insecurities concerning my asexuality is that I’d be depriving any future partners of a “real” relationship. Many asexual people don’t want to have sex, but even for the ones who do, I’ve heard an allo person describe the idea of having sex with an ace person as “repulsive” (which was met with agreement). To many allo people, Margot included, asexuality is viewed as a detriment in relationships.

That all being said, the answer to the question is no. Romantic love is not inherently more valuable or meaningful when sex is present. Ironically, if you take this out of the context of asexuality, I feel like it makes perfect sense to people. There are plenty of reasons an allo couple might not have sex, but no one doubts their love for one another. The lack of sexual attraction doesn’t negate the presence of other forms of attraction that are present in a relationship -- aesthetic, sensual, and romantic attraction are all the ones that first come to mind. The idea that sex and sexual attraction are the pinicle of a relationship is ridiculous. It’s one part of a relationship, and is certainly an important one to many people, but it’s not all there is. In typical allo relationships, a relationship is probably not healthy if the couple’s sexual attraction is the main thing holding them together (obviously exceptions do apply depending on the nature of the relationship). An asexual person is not inherently inferior in their ability to experience romantic love, it’s just different. And that’s okay. In fact, Takumi has to learn this fact at the end of the story, and he has a really great monologue about it:

“He ran his hands through his hair, sighing. ‘This morning it finally clicked. I was thinking of sex, actually having sex, as the Holy Grail, and when I got frustrated, I tried to look at it from a different point of view and I realized something else.

‘No one has ever complimented me as much as you do. Every day. All day. I could show up wearing a burlap sack and a tinfoil hat and you’d probably tell me how avant-garde and handsome I looked. You genuinely listen to what I have to say and value my opinion. You tell me I’m wonderful and talented and amazing --’

Alice didn’t mean to laugh -- it bubbled out of her before she could stop it. She tilted her head to the side, looked at him, and said, ‘Because you are.’

‘When you thought I didn’t want you, you started to cry,’ he said. Alice tried to memorize the gentle look in his eyes as he spoke. ‘I watched you lower your head, clutch the front of your shirt, and try to smile because you didn’t want me to see how much what I was saying hurt you, because you do desire me. You wanted me so much that me saying no caused you actual pain. The thought of me only caring about not being able to sex with you hurt because you thought I knew how much you wanted me.’

‘For the record, I didn’t cry in the car. I cried in the shower.’

‘It was still because of me.’ He raised their joined hands and kissed the backs of hers. ‘It’s the same thing. Whether you’re so overwhelmed you can’t keep your hands off me or you’re crying because you think I don’t want you, it’s the same thing. It comes from the same place. That’s desire. That’s passion. You’ve never held back how you feel about me.’”

Later, he adds:

“‘If we take away everything -- there’s just you and me, nothing else, I see us together. Stripped down to the core, being with you is what I want because I’m in love with you. If we never had sex, I would still want to be with you because you’re in my heart, too. Just laughing, dancing, and twirling in circles, and I know that sounds weird as hell, but you are. And it’s important to me that you know that.’”

I know this is a lot of quote and not a lot of analysis, but I feel like I don’t have much to add here. Takumi gets it right. Once again, I feel like I’m not saying every allo person needs to be willing to give up sex at a moment’s notice -- I understand that it’s really important for some people, and that’s just as valid as those who don’t wish to have sex. What I’m saying here is that sexual love is not all there is. Just like romantic love is overemphasized in comparison to platonic love, I think people start overemphasizing sexual love when we think about asexuality. It’s just one piece of a whole. I really love how Kann takes the time to break down Takumi’s thought process here, as it’s a really important perspective to understand.

Let’s Talk About Love provides important black ace rep, a deep understanding of what romantic love really is, and does it all in the format of a cheesy romance book (a genre that very underrepresents asexuality). I think this is a great book for understanding one version of the asexual experience, and I love that it’s getting the attention it does.

Happy reading!

From yours truly, Kendall