As someone who has been reading romance novels virtually non-stop for two years, I have a lot of feelings on the subject. As a successful writer in the genre, Maya Rodale has feelings and actual research on the subject. I purchased her thesis, Dangerous Books for Girls: The Bad Reputation of Romance Novels Explained, because I wanted to understand why this mass market genre is so consistently derided not only by readers, but also seemingly by the book industry as well. Many people read these books and publishers make a lot of money. Obviously, manifestly, clearly, profit does not equal quality, but why doesn’t it at least equal some respect for the readership? What is with the titles? What is with the “clinch covers”?
Dangerous Books for Girls: The Bad Reputation of Romance Novels Explained is largely a historical overview, and, I think, a good one, providing context for the origins, specifics, and reputation of these books. A historical perspective seems a good place to start. If American attitudes are still frequently puritanical, why shouldn’t attitudes towards certain kinds of novels be understood through the prism of an earlier century as well? While reading, I kept waiting for an answering “CLANG!” in my brain to help me understand why reading romance is regarded with greater stigma than other genre fiction, including science fiction, spy novels, and murder mysteries. I was seeking vindication. These are the kinds of reactions I get when I people what I like to read:
“It’s pornography for repressed women.” It’s 2014. If I wanted pornography, I could find pornography.
“I wouldn’t think you were the type.” I don’t even know what this means. Is it that I have so carefully crafted the illusion of intelligence? I don’t seem pathetic? That is the general implication with statements such as these.
“They’re sexist.” No. Historical romance puts a bonnet on current social mores and uses the setting to create narrative distance and reinforce the elements of escapism. There are cultural limitations placed on the women, but these are obstacles not virtues.
“They’re full of sexual assault .” 35 years ago? Guilty as charged. I think it’s because nice women weren’t supposed to like sex, so their body had to be in another’s control for them to do so. They had to surrender before they could have fun. It was disgusting. I’m not defending it, just trying to understand it. Given the ongoing prevalence of “slut-shaming” and victim blaming some things really haven’t changed that much.
“They’re unrealistic.” I got this one a lot when I was younger. I wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between fiction and reality. The books set up unreasonable expectations. This would be comparable to a spy novel reader finding an attaché case and being surprised when it didn’t contain top secret government documents.
“They’re all the same.” I would have said “consistent”, but that’s the point. Murder mysteries and spy novels are the same way. It’s genre fiction and the best authors play with the tropes.
“They’re disposable.” This is true. Disposability is built into the genre as it is into all mass market fiction. If it is really good, a romance novel is described as “keeper”, like all those other books people buy, read, and keep.
“The writing is terrible.” Pedestrian might be more accurate, but the same can be said for all books published and, as with “real” books, if you do your research, you can find great authors. As John LeCarre is to the spy novel, so Courtney Milan is to historical romance.
“You should write one.” I get this constantly from my husband because what the world needs is another badly written novel. Notwithstanding that if I write a romance, I can dismiss all of my reading as “research” and be cleansed by creativity… until people realise that I have written a romance novel and I’ve just moved over from the bottom of the reader pile to the bottom of the writer pile. Then, instead of suggesting I read “a real book”, they can suggest I write “a real book”.
[embarrassed silence] and [my own mortification] This is the most common reaction. People are so embarrassed for me. How could I admit to such a thing in public? But I’m embarrassed for me, too. I told a co-worker what I’ve been reading and felt such shame, you would think I’d confessed to being a heroin addict. I’m dismissive, abashed and self-deprecating. I try to own my ignominy. These are my choices, I have a right to them, but shouldn’t I be reading a “real book”?
Women like me, and Rodale explains that the majority of romance readers are indeed women like me, love our e-readers because they obscure our choices. I like romance novels, I am disappointed in myself for liking them, I try to refuse to be embarrassed by discussing them, which in turn chagrins me and usually those around me, as well. BUT WHY?
We live in a culture in which what has been seen as the province of men is regarded as the norm or baseline. Works of art and entertainment that focus on what is outside that standard is therefore considered sub-standard or alternative. Rodale writes that romances were originally subversive in their empowerment of women. Heroines made choices for their own happiness ignoring the rules they were told to live by. I believe romance is mocked now for two separate reasons and the first is artistic: The books follow a clear and infinitely repeatable pattern based on standard tropes, and are meant to be consumed and discarded. These books are held to a different standard and not necessarily one based on artistic merit. They are intellectually vulgar. From that perspective, I can understand the judgement, despite the disrespect it shows to the many genuinely talented writers in the genre, and in other genres for that matter. The second reason for the sneering is that romances dwell in the world of emotions and relationships, the traditional women’s realm. Because they are written by and for women, we have been told that this makes the stories and their writers of less value. Wanting to spend time with characters and their emotions is silly and apparently pathetic. We should devote our entertainment to realistic things, or to different unrealistic things such as murder and espionage. Never mind that the message for women in romance is always one of strength and the right to pursue a fulfilling life. If the heroine has been victimized or relegated to the sidelines by her family or circumstance, she moves into the light. She liberates herself. She is an equal. She always wins. She triumphs. I don’t know that non-romance readers are aware that this is the central tenet of all romance, but it is. And with that, everything comes full circle to Rodale’s thesis that the empowerment of female characters is to be viewed as naive or frivolous, and that the demeaned reputation of romance is based on negative attitudes towards women.
This is such an excellent defense of the genre, and proves once again that romance readers are awesome, articulate and super smart. I clearly need to check out this Rodale article, it sounds like exactly my sort of thing.
This review is amazing. Thank you for writing it.
I read a book back in graduate school when I was doing research for a paper I was writing on the ways romance novels and traditional captivity narratives intersect that was SUPER interesting. It’s called Reading the Romance by Janice Radway. It’s a little dated — I think it was written back in the 90s, but she does a good job dissecting the reasons why women read these novels, and none of those reasons are that they are unintelligent.
Thank you, Malin and narfna. I have so many strong feelings on this subject. Rodale’s thesis was a great justification for venting some spleen.
This is great! As an unabashed romance novel reader, I thrive making the other person feel uncomfortable. I’ve been reading romance since my sister handed me my first Amanda Quick at 12, and while through high school I had to hide them (not appropriate for children), I’ve been out and proud ever since. My sister and mother are the same. We get together and discuss our new reads as though the characters are real people (“oh you’re going to love Archer, he’s just your type”). I usually get the “but you’re smart” comment when people see me reading them, and then I show them my romance bookcase. Bodice rippers in a bar, on the bus, on the plane with the most torrid cover I can find? Absolutely! I delight in the tropes, the escapism and the guaranteed happy ending.
Thank you Mrs. Julien. I have gotten most of those same reactions that you describe. I used to start every CBR review of a romance novel (for me almost exclusively Nora Roberts) with an apology, or scapegoating, or explaining away the choice. I don’t do it anymore, but its a struggle still.
Yes, the attitudes are really engrained, aren’t they? I know it’s sexist BS, yet I still flail against my shame.
Excellent as always, Mrs. J. I read romance novels almost exclusively for over 20 years. During that time I also graduated from high school, went to college, went through a JD/MA program, had a surprisingly high powered lobbying career, and threw it all away for a life of genteel poverty as a chef and organizer. I did all that reading countless romances. When people give me shit about my reading habits, I ask them what they watch on tv. It’s usually worse.
I knew I liked you for more reasons than your elegant snark. I simply didn’t know what those were. I think you’ve either worked or are working in all the arenas I’ve enjoyed best in my life, though I never had any sort of power at all (and I’m okay with that). I don’t apologize for reading romance any more than I apologize for reading urban fantasy. I like what I like and the devil take anyone who derides me for it.
Well, high-powered within a small world. The halls of Congress ring not with my name, but there are two large professional organizations that might foam at the mouth. I’ll check out Joanna Bourne. I do like subplots, especially with spies.
Well done, lady. Well. Done.
Look. I love romances as well as anyone, and I was an English major, with an (unintended) specialty in pre-1900 British literature. So, I should be snobby with my reading, right?
I understand the shame, half the time (no, all the time) when my husband is asking me what I’m reading, I mumble, “NOTHING OKAY??!!”
That’s why I only posted 8 reviews last CBR. I read probably a hundred books, though.. just none of the romances were reviewed.
I will take your lead, Mrs. Julien, and review to my heart’s content. Also, Courtney Milan is outstanding.
You should totally review the romances you read! A couple of years ago, I think half of the books I read in the entire year were romances. Last year, I had managed to get enough other genres in there that romance now “only” takes up about a third of my reading. If I had refrained from reviewing all my romance, I would never have managed to complete my double or triple Cannonball. Don’t be ashamed – embrace your reading, ESPECIALLY if you read nearly a hundred books.
I also love discovering new books or authors from the romance reviews of others. There are so many bad books out there in every genre, reviews from people I trust is the best way to avoid the big disappointments.
I am here to join the chorus of love for Courtney Milan, and also throw in a good word for Joanna Bourne, whose books sometimes have dreadful titles but whose characters – even the minor ones – have stayed with me for years. I review books for another site, and I would love it if more books focused on character, no matter what the genre. As I said above, I don’t apologize for my reading choices. I read for pleasure and escape, not to impress other people.
I have tried Joanna Bourne, more than once, but she just didn’t work for me. It’s mostly because I don’t like a lot of subplot in my romance, especially spies.
That makes sense. She is all about the subplot, and I like things to be complicated and messy, even in my romances.
I don’t have a lot to add, but I love that you are sharing this thesis and your thoughts on it with us. So much rings true, and, as others have said, I’ve been trying to scrub the guilt from my “guilty pleasures”: why should I apologize for something I enjoy? The attitudes are so engrained, though. Anyway, thanks again for this great review.
I love your review. I wish I could email it to all my enormously brilliant and well-educated friends. None of whom read romance unless they (like me – shameful truth) actually read romance but refuse to admit to it in public. The stigma still looms large although everything you point out is entirely true.
I will take issue with one thing – you absolutely should write a romance novel. How do you know you would be on the bottom of the writer pile? I think you have all the tools you need to be hugely successful. Then we could all be writing reviews of how amazing you are (and how we knew you back when). Romance is one of the genres where “indie publishers” are making huge headway. Successful self-published authors can make serious money too. Nobody would look down their nose at your romance habit when it’s funding a summer spent in the Greek Isles.
Alexis speaks the truth. I would totally read your romance, and as all your other writing is incredibly enjoyable to read, I’m sure any romance of yours would be great. I’d write a glowing review of it and force all my friends to buy it to support your new career as much as possible!
Oh, noes! I came back here to link to this review, and it’s gone!!!
Thanks, narfna! As you can see, I’ve put it back.