In a relatively recent interview, pop heartthrob Troye Sivan was asked a private question by an indecorous journalist. The professionally lacking gentleman wanted to know if Sivan was a top or a bottom.
This wasn’t merely an attack on Sivan’s person and an attempt to violate his intimacy, but also an attack on our collective erotic imagination.
I’ve never met someone who was attracted to men and didn’t find Sivan at least moderately attractive. Sivan is the object of desire of male-attracted women and men everywhere - particularly, of men, since he’s what my wife eloquently labelled as a “gigatwink”.
Bottoms like to believe that Sivan is a top, while tops fantasize of Sivan as a bottom, and versatile men – oh, well, it quite depends. The core of the issue is that ambiguity, the unsaid, that which is left to be assumed invites us to wonder, to fantasize, to mystify. Asking Sivan what his favorite sex position is consists of turning his gazelle-like, androgynous, staminic walks in hazy, dimly lit sets into a four-page spread of his open anus. It’s an attack on erotism and an imposition of pornography as its replacement.
It’s a consequence of the pornification of our sexual lives, and another confirming instance of the fact that sexuality is no longer radical. The explicit question, if complied to, would have brought about, not outrage, destabilization or revolution - not anymore, but adorable valley girls yelling on gossip channels and shittons of fucking money. And as much as I might like all that, it does not a revolution make.