Abstract
This ground-breaking book attends to a crucial gap in the existing sex work literature by addressing non-normative performances, practices, meanings and embodiments that are routinely excluded in debates on the global sex trade. By disrupting heteronormative logics of commercial sex – going beyond the typical focus of the sale of sex by women to men – this book aims to queer debates about the sex industry and advance a queer and feminist politics of sex work. Contributions are drawn from a variety of disciplines including criminology, geography, history, political science and sociology interwoven with accounts from activists, practitioners and self-identifying queer sex workers. While parts of the book often rely on knowledge of certain theoretical concepts and/or queer theorists such as Judith Butler for instance, it is nonetheless indispensable not only for students and scholars, but also those outside of academia who are interested in sex-work politics. This edited collection is split thematically into five sections with between four to six chapters in each part. In order to demonstrate the impressive breadth and the issues covered, I will outline here a selected range and how they set this book apart.
Starting with ‘Sex, work, and queer interventions’, from a queer Marxist feminist perspective, Berg problematizes notions of ‘realness’ and the emphasis on ‘authentic’ performances by sex workers in queer and feminist pornography. As consumers and producers increasingly demand ‘real’ orgasms, fantasies and romance within these types of pornography, it is often assumed to be less exploitative for the worker. Yet, Berg demonstrates how this can in fact result in the extraction of more time, physical and affective energy as well as surplus value from sex workers in this context. In the following chapter the tone is shifted as McNamara, Tortorici and Tovar share a deeply insightful and witty online conversation between the three authors on their experiences of selling sex, the notion of ‘werq’ (‘… a purposeful queering of the spelling and meaning of work, [referring to] … queer labour that has been de-legitimised/criminalised through racist heteropatriarchal labour discourse/law’ (p. 48)), and how this relates to their work in academia and activism.
Moving to ‘Queer embodiments, identities, and intersections’, the second part of the collection covers issues as diverse as femmephobia (discrimination/stigmatisation of the feminine) and ‘straight for pay’ (for example, lesbian and queer-identifying women practising heterosexual sex at work) (Stardust); an auto-ethnography of working as a professional submissive (Holt); how sex work and BDSM can be therapeutic, healing and empowering for both sex workers and clients (Avenatti and Jones); and issues surrounding ‘fatphobia’ both inside and outside the realm of queer sex work (Stryker). This section concludes with a discussion of older men who have purchased sex later on in life (Sanders); and working with people with disabilities in relation to commercial sex (Owens).
Section 3 explores ‘New spaces of/and sex work’. Pilcher highlights the ‘queer moments’ and the transgressive potential of a UK lesbian erotic dance venue. She examines the sexual-social political background and contemporary context of the club, the normativity of gender performances, the club as women’s space, bodies out of place, touching interactions and unsettles existing conceptions of the ‘gaze’. What is revealed throughout this chapter is that such venues are not queer by definition exposing the tensions around subverting heteronormativity. Moving to virtual space, Tyler looks at how the profiles of MSM and M$M (men selling sex to men) have queered the social-sexual network landscape of ‘Gaydar’ and how this has in turn queered the binary of what is considered commercial and non-commercial sex. Finally, Procter analyses the purchasing of sex/sexual interactions through online avatars on a multi-user virtual environment. It is argued that while interactions between sex workers and clients appear to (re)produce heterosexual norms, the pseudonymous potentialities, including the fluidity and performativity of gender and sexuality, ultimately queer such interactions.
As queer methodologies are a key focus in this collection, the fourth section on ‘Queer communities’ presents a range of different research methods used to destabilise normative conceptions of sex work. Smith et al.’s chapter looks at what data from an online survey of over 5,000 porn consumers say about queer porn, the role it plays in people’s lives/intimate relationships/identities and overall, ‘… how porn might matter to people’ (p. 178). Atkins unsettles the notion of ‘sex–money exchange’ with a combination of drawings and text which interestingly allows for multiple and even contradictory interpretations of his own experiences and those of the ‘lads’ ‘doing business’ in Manchester’s Gay Village throughout his ethnography.
Although limited to activism and policy in western (wealthy) countries, the final section provides critical case studies of exclusionary practices in sex-worker organisations. As authors and self-identified queer sex workers, Cole et al. discuss the ‘whorephobic’ practices of Australian gay and lesbian organisations which contribute to render queer sex workers invisible or excluded from queer communities. Turning to the issue of white privilege within sex-worker rights movements in the USA, Panichelli et al. aim to queer whiteness and call for an intersectional approach on activism emphasising how white supremacy shapes organising processes, agendas and priorities in the context of the movement itself. Two further contributions discuss (sexual) violence/criminality against male (Bryce et al.), transgender and queer sex workers (Bewley), who are continually excluded in heteronormative debates/policy/practice in the UK.
While some chapters touch upon women and transgender people buying sexual services, this relatively under-researched area could have been given more emphasis to disrupt the normative assumption of female/worker, male/client even further. Nevertheless, the unique format and arrangement of different writing styles, voices and themes keep the book engaging while provoking the reader to explore what it might mean ‘… to “be”, “do” and “think” queer(ly) in relation to commercial sex.’ Queer Sex Work ultimately paves the way for more complex, nuanced debates on global sexual economies to challenge further exclusionary, reductionist and moralistic practices in this field.