The problem with “erotic”

This post is my second submission to the October 2023 Carnival of Aces, which I’m hosting at this blog. In my first submission, I offered a hot take regarding how I find ace discourse pays disproportionate attention to the sexual/sensual/aesthetic distinction which is poorly defined and with blurry boundaries, and not enough attention to more meaningful distinctions like the erotic and the non-erotic.

Therein lies the problem. Is the distinction between erotic and non-erotic that easily understood?

Also, some readers might challenge my hot take by citing Ela Przybylo’s book Asexual Erotics. Clearly, there is academic ace discourse focusing on the erotic. But that’s exactly my point: this discourse, as far as I’m aware, is limited to the academic ivory tower — I’ve rarely encountered discussion of the erotic in everyday discourse. Moreover, Przybylo’s use of “erotic” deviates quite a bit from the mainstream understanding of the term.

I felt like it would be irresponsible of me to offer that hot take without being more informed about the existing discourse on “erotic”. So I tried to read Asexual Erotics, but really only read the introduction. But I did read Audre Lorde’s essay on “The Uses of the Erotic” from which comes the definition of “erotic” used in Asexual Erotics. I also skimmed a paper on “Eroticism as Embodied Emotion” by Staci Newmar, which was recommended to me by Blue Ice-Tea.

Admittedly, I didn’t do a thorough job or due diligence in my reading. But if I’m being honest, sociology is not my area of expertise, but more importantly, engaging deeply with academic concepts in sociology (or philosophy, as another example) is something I struggle with. Heck, I even struggle with concepts from economics and psychology, in which I do have training, without an academic seminar. The point is, I don’t think it behooves me to be duly diligent in my study of the erotic before I offered my hot take. But I do think behooves me to acknowledge that I didn’t.

Regardless, I can still try to comment on the way I understand erotic, and the way this particular stream of sociology literature uses it. First, my use of erotic was more in line in the mainstream understanding of the term than with the way this literature uses it (with the only difference being I extended it from sexual feelings only to whatever the umbrella feeling is that includes sexual and romantic feelings).

Audre Lorde, in her seminal essay, made the case for expanding the understanding of eroticism beyond the sexual, but also, I think, beyond romantic too.

The erotic is a measure between the beginnings of our sense of self and the chaos of our strongest feelings. It is an internal sense of satisfaction to which, once we have experienced it, we know we can aspire. For having experienced the fullness of this depth of feeling and recognizing its power, in honor and self-respect we can require no less of ourselves.

When I speak of the erotic, then, I speak of it as an assertion of the lifeforce of women; of that creative energy empowered, the knowledge and use of which we are now reclaiming in our language, our history, our dancing, our loving, our work, our lives.

Audre Lorde

Lorde’s words, are, as always, beautiful prose, but I still do not come away from it with a clear understanding of what “erotic” means. This is why I struggle with the sociology literature: concepts are rarely robustly defined — they are left open-ended, I think, in order to not restrict or limit the discourse, but this makes it difficult for me to learn concepts. Understanding sociology requires a skill I have not mastered yet and, frankly, haven’t prioritized much.

Regardless, after skimming Przybylo’s and Newmahr’s works, the best understanding I can form of “erotic” is that it refers to passion that is embodied (i.e., experienced in the body). And it is not limited to the sexual or romantic context. Newmahr, for example, discusses erotic in the context of roleplaying in Renaissance Faires (and does acknowledge roleplaying in the context of kink).

It is easier for me to think of eroticism restricted to the context of the sexual and the romantic. Indeed, those are situations in which the feelings evoked are experienced in the body … at least for me. (Can I really claim that this understanding is universal, though? I try to steer clear of any kind of broad generalization. )

But extending it to other contexts becomes challenging for me. For instance, I can understand really getting into the flow of roleplaying in a Renaissance Faire … and engaging with others in that context, but conceptualizing that as “erotic” … well, then the word “erotic” no longer captures the meaning I was trying to ascribe to it.

I must say I was somewhat disappointed by this conceptualization. I have been trying to find the words to express what makes sexual and romantic passion so distinctly different from other kinds of passionate love.

To be clear, I’m not saying that the difference lies in the intensity of passion (as per the traditional amatonormative understanding), but that there is a certain quality or characteristic of the passion that is different.

I was searching for a word to describe that characteristic … and “erotic” seemed to fit … but now, the works of these scholars is making me think that it no longer fits. So I am back to Square 1.

And I will end here abruptly, just as abruptly as I’m ending my exploration on this topic.

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References:

Lorde, Audre (1984), “The Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power” chapter in Sister Outsider, Audre Lorde and The Crossing Press.

Newmahr, Staci (2014), “Eroticism as Embodied Emotion: The Erotics of Renaissance Faire” Symbolic Interaction, Vol 37, Issue 2, pp. 209-225.

Przybylo, Ela (2019), Asexual Erotics: Intimate Readings of Compulsory Sexuality, The Ohio State University Press.