Review of The Space Ace of Mangleby Flat by Larre Bildeston

Often it takes a lifetime to figure out who we are. Although internet culture has helped spread a wider array of labels to help people articulate their gender, sexuality, spirituality, and other aspects of identity, that doesn’t mean it’s always easy to find the right labels or try them out. Life is trial and error—a lot of trial and error. The Space Ace of Mangleby Flat is a challenging read that bears this out. Larre Bildeston weaves a compassionate but not always easy story about a man who doesn’t understand why he can’t find his place. I received a copy in exchange for a review.

Sam Dennon has always been a bit … different. After a sheltered boyhood in the remote Mangleby Flat, he moves to the big city, and eventually in adulthood ends up in Wellington, Aotearoa, cofounder of an architecture firm with his ex-wife. Sam is brilliant, loves space and architecture, but he has developed an idea of himself as a loner. He was never quite able to get as enthusiastic about sexual intimacy with his wife, Lisa, as she wanted—hence their split. Now Sam is getting closer with Reina, a trans woman he meets through tennis. The two of them become good friends, yet Reina clearly wants their relationship to be more physically intimate—and Sam isn’t sure he can acquiesce. Deep down, as he flashes back to his childhood, he wonders how broken he is, and why.

So it’s not a spoiler, since it is in the title and also fairly obvious if you know the signs: Sam is asexual. He just doesn’t know this word fits his experience and instead sees himself as broken. This is a common occurrence, sadly, among ace people. It’s not one I’ve had myself (though I have my days where society makes me feel like I’m not enough…), but that doesn’t make it any less real for the ace people who experience it. Sam’s attitude, his despondency, and his anxiety (compounded by being autistic as well), mean he struggles to find definitions and labels for himself that are affirming and uplifting. Instead, he focuses on what he perceives to be his deficits.

This is a difficult book to read. It’s sad, watching Sam feel so broken and unfulfilled. The story gets dark at times. I kept wanting to yell at Sam, help him discover his identity sooner, help him reconcile with people he has distanced himself from. But that’s kind of the point. As much as I want ace characters who are joyous, who are aware of their sexuality from a young age, I have to recognize that a lot of older aces have gone through what Sam goes through. And if you’re allo and reading this, you will get a glimpse of how difficult it can be to exist in a society that assumes everyone will pair off, have and want to have sex, and understand how all of that works. I’m allistic, so I can’t speak to the portrayal of Sam’s autism, but it’s good to have this dual representation.

All things considered, I really liked the supporting cast. Reina is a delight. Lisa is a wonderfully understanding and supportive ex-wife. Mick, Jan, and the other players in Sam’s past form a constellation of characters who helped make him who he is. Bildeston sets up a few mysteries, teases them out, before resolving them gradually in the final act.

I recommend this book for ace people or autistic people looking for main characters like them, with the caveat to beware content warnings (including suicide ideation and incest). I recommend this book for allo people or allistic people who are challenging themselves to learn more about ace and autistic experiences through fiction. Finally, I recommend this book for anyone who is interested in a layered story set in Australia and Aotearoa with an emphasis on found family, communication, boundaries, and lifelong learning.