Candy’s Note: Edited a couple of things for clarity. Bad blogger! No cookie!
Robin mentioned that one of my favorite authors, Barbara Samuel, posted an entry on Romancing the Blog about why readers should care about the RITAs. One of the reasons given is that “the RITA is the Oscar or Pulitzer Prize of romances novels.”
My immediate reaction was “HAHAHAHAHAHAHA,” closely followed by “What. The. Fuck.”
I don’t take the RITAs seriously. In fact, I don’t take ANY of the romance awards seriously. While the RWA has awarded the RITA to some books that were actually good, those works are few and far between. Of the books I’ve read from the complete list of RITA winners, I can count maaaaaybe ten books that actually deserved to win in their categories, most of them going to Barbara Samuel/Ruth Wind, Laura Kinsale and Jennifer Crusie.
And before y’all get all het up about how I’m being unfair, because “good” is entirely subjective, I’d like to point out there are plenty of objective standards to writing, which Beth pointed out with great verve and eloquence a little while back, and which I then expanded on in a much more silly manner. But if you don’t want to wade through those two long-ish pieces, here it is in short: I separate craft from personal preference. There’s what I think is genuinely good, and there’s what I enjoy reading, and sometimes the two don’t intersect, and that’s OK—not loving something that was technically perfect doesn’t make me a cretin, and neither does enjoying something that was sloppily made.
The RITAs? Like I said to Robin, the motto for the vast majority of the winners seems to be “Hi, we’re mostly competent. Mostly.†Even authors who have written genuinely good books, like Lisa Kleypas and Connie Brockway, end up winning for books that were sub-par.
I don’t treat the other awards in such a dismissive fashion. The winners of the the Pulitzer, Booker, Guardian, Whitbread, Hugo and Nebula awards have quite reliably provided me with excellent, entertaining reads. But most of these awards tend to skew towards the more literary end of the spectrum, which might make these rather unfair comparisons for the RITAs. That leaves the Hugos and Nebulas, which are genre fiction awards. So why do I perk up and take notice when I hear a book has been awarded the Hugo or the Nebula?
The only reason I can think of is the Geek Factor. My tastes are a lot more in sync with the average geek than they are the average romance reader, and geeks are more plentifully found in SF than romance, and geeks are the ones to vote on the Nebulas and Hugos. To be honest, the average SF/F novel isn’t written that much more skillfully than the average romance novel; however, I tend to find the ideas and plots in SF/F a lot more interesting, and I will forgive a lot of clunkiness if the story grabs me. Neal Stephenson is an example who immediately comes to mind; he does some absolutely maddening things with his prose and characters, but his stories are so compelling that they drag me along. I even find his massive infodumps fascinating, God help me.
So until mainstream romance tastes begin to align themselves more closely to mine (unlikely), or until romance novels start playing with prose, structure and medium in the same interesting ways that literary fiction does (even more unlikely, and frankly, not necessarily desirable), or until the RITAs stop awarding most of their prizes to the literary equivalent of Thomas Kinkade paintings (unlikely, but very highly desirable), I’m going to keep on blithely ignoring the RITAs as a source of good reads while keeping an eye out for recommendations by people whose tastes I tend to trust a bit more, like Beth, or Robin, or Evil Auntie Peril.
Jane: Just read your clarification. So disregard what I just wrote.
And Nora: But if authors participate in stuff like this, they’ve got no leg to cry on re perception other than their own.
…that’s a word image that’s making me snort-giggle. I’m picturing legions of feather-boaed women weeping into their pink quills while standing on one foot.
The literati loves women being raped, murdered, beaten, etc. Hell, Oprah’s even a fan of that stuff. But female community, where women can celebrate girl stuff and have a happy ending? Not so much.
This is in modern literary fiction? Austen, Anne Bronte and Anthony Trollope have happy endings and female friendships/community. Also, I’m not sure that the ‘female community’ thing has always been there in romance. From what I’ve read about the genre there have been periods in which one of the main roles of other women was to be ‘other women’, i.e. a threat to the heroine’s relationship with the hero. I’m not discounting the possibility that there’s an element of anti-happy-ending feeling involved, but I don’t think it can be the only reason.
“If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all†policy
Now I’m wondering if I do this too. I write analysis, not reviews, so I think what I’ve got is an ‘If I can’t think of anything interesting to say, then I won’t mention the book’ policy. There can be interesting things in books which, taken as a whole, don’t give me warm, fuzzy feelings or which I might not think of as particularly ‘well written’ (which I still maintain is rather subjective once one gets beyond the basics, by which I mean things like mistaken word choices/spellings such as piqued/peaked, flaunt/flout). And there are plenty of books I’ve liked or loved but haven’t written about because they haven’t sparked any ideas (though they may do so in the future).
And now I’ve gone off and found this site about common errors in English which lists lots of words that get confused with other, similar-sounding ones. I did find it rather intimidating, though.
Lani, Maybe I’m misunderstanding you. Here’s what you said and what I was referring to in my response:
What I read was “Romance gets no respect because of the literati.” I assumed you meant *general respect* because that’s what everyone always complains about. Do you mean that the literati don’t respect Romance? By that do you mean only famous white male authors? Academics? Famous literary critics? Now obviously SOME of the so-called “literati” disrespect Romance, but even as I write that, I think we need to define that term—does it mean academics in general, because more than a few are posting here and elsewhere, like Teach Me Tonight, about their love of Romance. Mary Bly, aka Eloisa James, is both an academic AND daughter of a major American poet—literati on two counts? Who are we really talking about here?
Anyway, my point, based on my understanding of your point (which may not be as I understood it), was that IMO Romance is marginalized not a) because it’s about emotional or touchy-feely girl things and produced by women, or b) because of the view of literary critics, because other womanly stuff is embraced by those who reject Romance. And because my own experience is that as someone who has 2, almost 3 advanced degrees, two in literature (3 if you count by BA, plus an impending law degree), I’m one of three people I know of my friends who read Romance, and one of the others is an art historian and hard core academic. So I guess basically what I’m saying is that I think there are many reasons Romance is disrespected, and that blaming the so-called “literati” may not be as wholly accurate as it’s assumed to be.
Also, I disagree with you about The Piano, because it seems very much like a genre Romance to me, complete with the emotional justice and the HEA. It COULD be lit fic, but then so could Patricia Gaffney’s To Have and To Hold, IMO. Or Judith Ivory’s Black Silk. You’re certainly right that romantic comedies aren’t the blockbusters, but neither are most art films. And I’m not sure that most blockbusters are only guy movies, but I’m not completely sure I understand your point there, so I don’t know how to respond. All I was trying to say is that I don’t think that women’s commercial art is marginalized in the main. Oh, and as for romantic comedies winning an Oscar, did Shakespeare in Love win? There’s the year Marisa Tomei won for My Cousin Vinny, but probably that’s not a good example, is it?
As for literature loving rape, violence to women, etc., I NEVER encountered SO MUCH violence toward women until I started reading Romance, and I can’t even tell you how much classical and lit fic I’ve read in my life because it’s my academic discipline. I mean, the genre is STEEPED in images of violence toward women, and IMO it’s even more prevalent now in the rise of Romantic Suspense, paranormals, and certain strains of erotic Romance. That it’s not always the “hero” who does the violence doesn’t make a difference, IMO, because it’s still absolutely there in the genre. How many authors still rely on having the heroine be the recipient of some violence in Romance, either as a way to bring the hero in to save her or as to bond the hero and heroine together (or to reform the tortured hero)? Linda Howard, anyone????? I can’t buy the argument that literature is so much more reliant on all that stuff, because an HEA tacked on the end of Romance novels is not a magic disappearing ink pen, IMO.
And, sure, there are a lot of dogs in romance, but I’d argue there are as many in other genres. So why do the dogs in romance count more against the perception of our genre more than the others? There are only two big differences; we sell more, and we’re girls.
I think it’s more the “sell more” than the girl thing, because as Jane said, the sheer volume of Romance suggests that even if the percentage of dogs is the same as in other genres, the *number* of books is much higher. And I think a lot of people walk by those supermarket racks and those shelves at Target, and they see “The Well-Hung Billionaire Sheikh’s Secret Baby” and just shut down to the genre. They might read a Jennifer Weiner book and think, oh, that’s “women’s fiction,” even though I might read it and think chick lit/Romance. Because IMO, what much of the “outside world” sees of Romance IS Mr. Romance and Fabio and a thousand secret baby and boss/secretary titles and thinks that’s the genre.
The literati loves women being raped, murdered, beaten, etc.
I’d argue that the literati have a love affair with tragedy in general. Much of lit fic is incredibly violent and dire towards people, not just women. Most of my favorite literary fiction novels, like Perfume, Sacred Hunger, The Mosquito Coast, Lord of the Flies, The Corrections, Slaughterhouse-5, Regeneration, etc., are every bit as brutal on the men as they are on the women. Women may not get equal air time, but they’re not treated any worse than the men. There was a nasty habit of killing off women who dare to have orgasms out of marriage in Ye Olde Novels by Dead White Dudes, but that’s happening less and less. Nowadays, the orgasms are still complicated and fraught and angst-ridden, but not deadly.
On thinking more about the examples I gave, I think they point more to my love of lit fic that’s dire and grim and violent, and not necessarily an accurate reflection of the genre as a whole.
I may be revealing my ignorance of lit studies, but isn’t the idea of good craft just as subjective as the idea of good story? I mean beyond the basics of grammar and mechanics. If a story is more beautifully told to ME in simple, unambiguious prose, but someone else prefers delicious purply descriptions, and another one wants it in cloaked symbolism and quiet subtlety. . . which way is better? What’s clunky to you is just what someone else loves. What’s obvious spoonfeeding to me is perfect for the next person.
I just get the feeling—and I’d welcome correction—that the genre as a whole just isn’t your cuppa, Candy. (And others here as well, but scrolling through is making me sea sick.) It seems to me as if whatever level of craft you’re lamenting is just right for a lot of people. Does that mean a lot of people have bad taste? Does that mean the genre needs to rise up and better itself? Or does it just mean it’s not to your taste?
I’m just sorta getting the ickies from the whole “Romance Genre, heal thyself!” I feel fine, really.
As to the clinch covers. . . They aren’t my thing as a reader, but I do think they’re getting nicer. And as a writer. . . Oh, I love the hell out of mine. Love its scarlet lewdness and flashy nudity. I want to lick my hero’s spine. Mm-mm-mm. I’m in lurve, and I don’t know what that means
And, Candy, I’m sorry. . . I know you’ve already said a million times that bad craft is bad craft is bad craft, but I’m not quite buying it, which is why I brought it up again. Feel free to just roll your eyes and ignore me.
And if you want to lick my hero’s spine too, feel free. I’m not greedy. Unseemly in my love for him, yes, but never greedy.
I may be revealing my ignorance of lit studies, but isn’t the idea of good craft just as subjective as the idea of good story? I mean beyond the basics of grammar and mechanics. If a story is more beautifully told to ME in simple, unambiguious prose, but someone else prefers delicious purply descriptions, and another one wants it in cloaked symbolism and quiet subtlety. . . which way is better?
See, what you’ve done there kind of illustrates why I think people really aren’t getting me when I talk about what’s good vs. what I like. What you’ve listed there? Those are different styles of writing, and they can be executed excellently, or they can be executed poorly. I may have preferences for certain styles and therefore be more forgiving of books in that style, but I can still spot good examples of a style I’m not very fond of.
As for what you wrote: I like variations of all three and I can provide examples of different authors who excel at each style. Hemingway is THE great grandaddy grandmaster pimp of sparse prose (and keep in mind I don’t even like any of the Hemingway I’ve read). I’m not super-fond of this extremely sparse style and am having a difficult time coming up with other names, but they may come to me later. Also can’t think of any romance authors who write with this minimalist quality.
For lush prose, Sharon and Tom Curtis do a pretty bang-up job in romance, ditto Karen Ranney, though her characters and plots sometimes exasperate me; for non-romance, examples would include just about all of the Big Names from the 19th century, especially the latter part, and one of my not-dead-but-still-a-white-dude favorites is Jonathan Franzen. (Yes, The Corrections could’ve been more tightly edited, but I loveses it to death in all its clunky, clanky glory.) For a cross between subtlety and lushness, I think Loretta Chase and Laura Kinsale are good examples in romance. For subtlety, Virginia Woolf is the first name that comes to mind, though I’m not particularly fond of all her work.
And then there are authors who do really interesting things to language, narration and chronological structure: James Joyce (Ulysses is well-nigh unreadable to me, though I want to finish it some time, goddammit), William Faulkner, Irvine Welsh (he did some fun things with typeface in Marabou Stork Nightmares that he then overplayed in Filth), Kurt Vonnegut, etc.
I keep saying that what I love isn’t necessarily what’s good, and what’s good isn’t necessarily what I love, but people don’t seem to get it. *weeps*
I just get the feeling—and I’d welcome correction—that the genre as a whole just isn’t your cuppa, Candy. (And others here as well, but scrolling through is making me sea sick.)
I’m not sure what to say to this. Like I said above, I read a whole lot of romance, despite the poor payoff, and Lord knows I can’t stop talking about it. You don’t see me running an SF/F review website, or a lit fic website, do you? Part of the problem is, I have no idea what you mean about romance being my cuppa. Do you mean “unreservedly love”? Thing is, I don’t unreservedly love any aspect of literature. My love is full of questiony, uncomfortable, pokey bits. Do you mean “Expend ridiculous amounts of time, energy and money on?” Then yes, definitely, romance IS my cuppa.
It seems to me as if whatever level of craft you’re lamenting is just right for a lot of people.
Well, yeah—this is pretty clear.
And Victoria: I like my boys skinnier than that, but your nekkid Scotsman does indeed have a verra nice back.
(I have a vain hope that my butchering of a Scottish accent will bring Maili out of the woodwork.)
Part of the problem is, I have no idea what you mean about romance being my cuppa.
I guess what I mean is. . . I feel you’re fascinated by it (or whatever other word you’d use), but you almost want it to be something else. A hybrid of lit fic and romance. (Which sounds lovely actually, though I’d still read straight romance and lurve it.) And i’m not speaking from gooey eyed fandom. I’ve got my big girl pants on. I enjoy critical discussion of individual books, and I don’t feel like I’m trying to defend the genre or some such nonsense. I’m just gently poking you with an inquisitive stick. *poke, poke*
I just get the feeling—and I’d welcome correction—that the genre as a whole just isn’t your cuppa, Candy. (And others here as well, but scrolling through is making me sea sick.)
Isn’t this just another way of saying, if you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all. And simply because Robin and Candy are wider read than say me who rarely ventures outside the genre means that they are not capable of providing critique?
Alternatively, if we are questioning why romance isn’t viewed more favorably outside the genre then wouldn’t outside views actually be valuable?
(I have a vain hope that my butchering of a Scottish accent will bring Maili out of the woodwork.)
Hee. Let’s all pray Maili doesn’t read my book then. Though I was restrained. I think I only used “verra” one time.
Actually, Jane, I wasn’t saying she didn’t have the right to say any of it. I’m just curious because of her own words about identifying more with the general tastes of the sf/f reading public than with romance readers in general. I’m trying to get a fix on her POV about it. *poke, poke*
Not so I can negate her or anything. Just cause I hang out here and i’m curious and if we were sitting at a bar having this discussion, I’d ask the same thing. It’s not a set up for, “See! She’s not a REAL fan!” I promise.
I guess what I mean is. . . I feel you’re fascinated by it (or whatever other word you’d use), but you almost want it to be something else. A hybrid of lit fic and romance.
And further down:
I’m just curious because of her own words about identifying more with the general tastes of the sf/f reading public than with romance readers in general. I’m trying to get a fix on her POV about it. *poke, poke*
The reason why I’m more tolerant of SF foibles (less with fantasy, because I holler about poor writing in fantasy almost as hard as I holler about poor writing in romance, and you do NOT want me to get started on what a poor writer I think Tolkien is, because my GOD what a flame war that would be—and keep in mind I love LOTR, not that people ever hear me when I say that, le sigh) and ANYWAY where was I before I opened those parentheses? Oh yes, my tolerance of SF foibles. I think part of it’s because I’m just a big old nerd. When Neal Stephenson stops his story dead and starts blathering about math theory for a couple of pages, I go along for the ride because I’m fascinated by that stuff, and because I find his voice compelling. If this happened in any other genre, I’d snort loudly and put the book down. Is it good writing? Not especially. It’s a case of the story being so compelling to me, I’m not especially picky about how it’s delivered.
And I’m pretty tolerant of wandering asides of any kind in any genre as long as the writing is pretty enough.
But this isn’t really addressing your point, is it?
I don’t necessarily want romance to be something else. I LOVE my Dara Joy, and I like my campy cross-dressing romances, with or without pirates. I even, God help me, occasionally enjoy that goddamn retrograde amnesia plot, and I have books on my keeper shelves featuring hard-featured, arrogant Italian tycoons who sneeringly address the heroines as “caro.” CARO. Jesus wept.
(Unless they’re Greek, then they tend to call the heroines “agape mou.”)
This whole discussion is ostensibly about why I think so many mediocre-to-awful books receive RITAs, but really, underpinning all this is an attempt to have us, the romance community, to actively examine the writing standards we have for romance, and whether these can be improved on. Because it can be, in my opinion, by a whole lot. But a whole lot of other people think otherwise. And we’re having a marvellous discussion about this, which I think is great. Never have I been so glad I was an asshole on the Internet, because it’s resulted in 200+ fascinating comments.
Ultimately, I don’t want romance to become a chimera of lit fic and romance. I wouldn’t necessarily be opposed to romantic lit fic or literary romance novels; authors like A.S. Byatt seem to have achieved something like this (from what I’ve heard, at any rate—I haven’t read any books by Byatt yet, Angels and Insects is in my TBR). But the writing styles and aims of lit fic are different from those of romance, and I’m fine with that. I don’t want Jennifer Crusie to start sounding more like Jane Smiley.
I just want romance novels to be better, and not more lit ficcy, though my bringing up lit fic authors’ names in comparison has perhaps muddied this point.
Also, keep poking away! You’re asking excellent questions.
Well, whether you want a hybrid or not, you’ve given me an idea! I’m thinking of writing a lit fic heroine into a campy pirate romance. But she’s aware she’s been put in the wrong book, and she just can’t even believe that this guy is walking around with his shirt untucked and unbuttoned, constantly brooding about his bitch-whore of a mother even as he rescues helpless urchins from the clutches of the really bad pirates. (He’s a member of the Secretly Good Pirate Guild, himself.) And, God, she cannot wait to get off this damned (immaculately clean) ship and ingratiate herself into the witty, miserable Bohemian art scene of London. But then. . .
oh, then! She inexplicably finds herself dressing up as a cabin boy just so she can get kidnapped by a Bad Pirate and be rescued by the Hero!!! She’s been infected by the dreaded Genre humours! Once rescued (unsodomized, of course. Thank god she’s in the wrong book) she gives into the Hero’s cold, cruel demand for moist reward, and he finds the little button that none of those depressed lit men ever found. Now she is untucking his shirt FOR him every time he tucks it in. Oh, she loves his hairless chest, and she hates it. What’s a lit fic girl to do?
I keep saying that what I love isn’t necessarily what’s good, and what’s good isn’t necessarily what I love, but people don’t seem to get it. *weeps*
I get it, Candy, and I’m going to try to help you out there.
I may be revealing my ignorance of lit studies, but isn’t the idea of good craft just as subjective as the idea of good story?
Most of lit studies isn’t even concerned with talking about what’s “good craft”—or good story, for that matter. We’re more interested in looking at texts and what they do and what they innovate, and what thematically they problematize (a great academic word), and where points of tension and interest are, and how they reflect various cultural and aesthetic values, and how narrative elements work to create certain effects, etc. We see different styles, as Candy says, but I can guarantee you that I’ve never walked into a class and said to my students, “this here book is written better than that there book.” But I have absolutely asked my students how certain texts affect them emotionally and intellectually and aesthetically. And I’ve asked them to look at texts and see if they can figure out how, for example, a first person narrative affects a story differently than a third person narrative. Or why an author might choose to write an epistolary novel between two people rather than a narrative channeled only through one POV.
Now yeah, in the days of yore there were definite lit crit judgments about what constituted good prose or poetry or whatever. And yeah, there are still some out there who yearn for those good old days (especially as cultural studies and post-colonial studies expand). And certainly, we have definite “models” of crafty excellence, mostly because they seem to stand the test of time and thousands of consenting opinions. Subjective in a general way (informed by culture, historical development, etc.), but based on principles of writing that are objective in that we don’t see them as having any inherent value. For example, first person narratives aren’t seen as superior to third person narratives. Where the subjective judgments come in is in a) whether you like each type or b) how well the type is executed within a particular text. Objective + subjective.
If you and I read a book, and you hate it and I like it, our opinions appear entirely subjective to one another.
However, if, after we read that book, we sit down and talk about each element of the book—the narrative voice, the themes, the prose style, the use of metaphor and symbolism, the use of foreshadowing, the development of primary and secondary characters, etc.—then our subjective judgments have a common and *objective* basis in the specific elements we focus on. These elements have characteristics we both understand in terms of their purpose and nature. That we arrive at different preferences for one book over another does not mean that we will not be able to talk about how the author handles each objective element of craftsmanship. And it doesn’t mean we won’t likely agree on many of those elements—We may agree, for example, that Susan Elizabeth Phillips does a masterful job of executing a certain type of heroine, even though I tend to dislike heroines who do x, y, or z. We might agree that Jennifer Crusie does a masterful job of executing dialogue but you just think Phillips is funnier. Objective + subjective. Of course at some level, *everything* is subjective (even, IMO, the hard sciences). But there’s a continuum of subjective judgments, and those judgments can be informed by *more* objective things that can temper unreflective subjectivity. And I think at some level that it’s the unreflective reactions that I think of as those I’d want to try to correct in any evaluation of mastery within a genre.
I’m not sure what to say to this. Like I said above, I read a whole lot of romance, despite the poor payoff, and Lord knows I can’t stop talking about it. You don’t see me running an SF/F review website, or a lit fic website, do you? Part of the problem is, I have no idea what you mean about romance being my cuppa. Do you mean “unreservedly love� Thing is, I don’t unreservedly love any aspect of literature. My love is full of questiony, uncomfortable, pokey bits. Do you mean “Expend ridiculous amounts of time, energy and money on?†Then yes, definitely, romance IS my cuppa.
Here’s how I see it, Candy: There’s lots of love there for Romance, but more often than I’d like it’s unrequited.
Is the pirate captain secretly a female cross-dresser? Because the only happy, uncomplicated sex scene I remember reading in literary fiction involved lesbian sex. That would explain the hairlessness of his chest and the largeness of his titty, no?
Candy wrote: The onus (heh heh, onus) isn’t just on reviewers. It’s on women in general, and it’s tied up with how we’re taught to interact with each other, and the expectations on our behavior and what’s allowable for us to say, and the ways we punish each other for infractions.
You said onus. Heh heh.
You’re definitely onto something there, but it’s way too big for me to get into here, because tomorrow I will have to work again, and won’t be able to play anymore. But suffice it to say – I wish you weren’t as dead-on right as you are.
I expected the RITA winners to bust my grade curve, not conform to it so closely.
Okay… but how many books in a year do you come across that bust your grade curve? How many movies? How many singers? Enough to fill the 13 winning slots?
Judith Ivory made it extraordinary because she is a mofuckin’ PIMP.
I have no comment on that, just had to quote it because if I was Judith, I’d be demanding that be put on my next bookcover.
But are we perhaps talking about different things here? You’re talking plot details, and I’m thinking more in terms of arc?
Not exactly. I think of arc and character as part of story, and story as part of craft. Nora hit it on the head when she separated story from the technical part of it. Character, arcs, plot – that’s the story part of craft. Buttery prose and ace description and no infodump and good dialogue – that, to me, is the technical part of craft. I don’t value the technical parts as much as the story parts. The technical parts can be great, and if your story bites, I’ll hate the book. If the technical parts are passable, and your story sings, I’ll forgive all flaws. If your technical parts are horrible, I won’t get far enough into the book to appreciate your story; your book has hit the wall. Out of the three, that’s the worst.
Does that clarify for you? Sorry. I assumed you could read my mind, which is obviously impossible, since most of the time, even I can’t read it. It’s a mess in there. Yeesh. I should sweep up.
Laura Vivanco wrote: This is in modern literary fiction? Austen, Anne Bronte and Anthony Trollope have happy endings and female friendships/community.
Austen and Bronte had to be dead for a hundred years before they got any mainstream love. I haven’t read Anthony Trollope, so I can’t comment, but the name sounds like it comes with a penis to me.
(I’m really not this radically feminist, it’s just a fun point to argue. And the more I argue it, the more I think I’m right, which almost never happens. I’m riding it until my argument poofs out from under me. Which usually happens eventually. Sigh.)
Robin wrote: Lani, Maybe I’m misunderstanding you.
More likely, I’m just not being clear. I do that a lot. 🙂
What I read was “Romance gets no respect because of the literati.â€
Yeah. Romance novels get no respect because of the mainstream literati. That’s right on.
I assumed you meant *general respect* because that’s what everyone always complains about. Do you mean that the literati don’t respect Romance? By that do you mean only famous white male authors? Academics? Famous literary critics?
It’s just not The Man. Chicks are in on it now, too, but because the trend was set by men when men were in power, and in order to sit at the table with the big boys, they have to pander to them. I can’t even tell you how many articles get forwarded to me in the course of a week with some other snooty lit-femme talking about how she can’t understand why self-respecting women read such trash.
Now obviously SOME of the so-called “literati†disrespect Romance, but even as I write that, I think we need to define that term—does it mean academics in general, because more than a few are posting here and elsewhere, like Teach Me Tonight, about their love of Romance. Mary Bly, aka Eloisa James, is both an academic AND daughter of a major American poet—literati on two counts? Who are we really talking about here?
We’re talking about the romance-slamming ads on the buses (or subways?) in D.C. We’re talking about the articles in the New York Times and Salon and other high-profile publications basically slamming romance and chick lit and calling them trash. Eloisa James rocks, and some academics are showing the romance love, but if you can point to an equal number of mainstream, high-circulation publications showing the romance love as I can that show nothing but disrespect and disdain, I’ll drop my argument to you right now and name you Queen of Everythingland.
I can do it, too. 🙂
So I guess basically what I’m saying is that I think there are many reasons Romance is disrespected, and that blaming the so-called “literati†may not be as wholly accurate as it’s assumed to be.
I disagree. See above.
Also, I disagree with you about The Piano, because it seems very much like a genre Romance to me, complete with the emotional justice and the HEA.
SPOILER ALERT. Didn’t he cut off her finger? I think it ceases to be a romance when the hero permanently maims the heroine. Now, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen the movie, but I remember it being highly disturbing, HEA or no. I wouldn’t qualify it as a romance.
You’re certainly right that romantic comedies aren’t the blockbusters, but neither are most art films.
My point was, how many romantic comedies have you seen nominated for Oscars? The blockbuster point was just talking about how many get made, and it muddied my argument. Sorry.
Oh, and as for romantic comedies winning an Oscar, did Shakespeare in Love win? There’s the year Marisa Tomei won for My Cousin Vinny, but probably that’s not a good example, is it?
LOL. I give you both points. I can’t recall if Shakespeare in Love won, but it definitely placed. And it was romantic comedy. I give you that one, and Marisa Tomei. But that’s in the last, what, fifteen years? I will admit, though, I haven’t seen a lot of good movies, period, in the last fifteen years. They all seem to suck to me, so don’t ask me to point out any romantic comedies I think would have deserved it, because I won’t be able to do it.
As for literature loving rape, violence to women, etc., I NEVER encountered SO MUCH violence toward women until I started reading Romance, and I can’t even tell you how much classical and lit fic I’ve read in my life because it’s my academic discipline.
Wow. Really? LOL. Seems to me like so much of the literary fiction I’ve read has rape and child molestation and – ugh. Can’t handle it. Every Oprah novel is one of these big tragedy stories. And you’re right about romantic suspense – I don’t read it for the same reason I don’t read Oprah books. No matter how well written, I can’t take it. So… I grant you that.
I think it’s more the “sell more†than the girl thing, because as Jane said, the sheer volume of Romance suggests that even if the percentage of dogs is the same as in other genres, the *number* of books is much higher.
There’s something to that, as well. But there are loads of great writers who get no respect, and I don’t think it can be written off as just a result of the volume in the business. See above re: Austen and Bronte.
And I think a lot of people walk by those supermarket racks and those shelves at Target, and they see “The Well-Hung Billionaire Sheikh’s Secret Baby†and just shut down to the genre.
Now that’s just funny. I shouldn’t be laughing, but I totally am.
Candy wrote: I’d argue that the literati have a love affair with tragedy in general.
And you’d be right. My argument there was weak.
Victoria Dahl wrote: I may be revealing my ignorance of lit studies,
Don’t let revealing your ignorance bother you, babe. It never stops me. 🙂
Well, whether you want a hybrid or not, you’ve given me an idea! I’m thinking of writing a lit fic heroine into a campy pirate romance.
I want it! Go write it! Now!
Lani—Spoiler Alert—As I recall, but it’s been years, her husband cut off her finger and her boyfriend made her a cool new metal one. That’s either true love or squick. Or both.
Somebody, but I can’t find the post to credit it, HIT IT ON THE HEAD. The real reason that horror books, romance novels and Oprah are marginalized. They have three things in common—they’re popular, i.e. high profile, they bring in the bucks and they’re predictable. People just think, I don’t have to read a romance, I already know they’re going to wind up together. I don’t have to read a horror novel, I know a lot of yucky stuff is going to happen. And I don’t have to watch TV to know that Oprah’s weight is going to yo-yo. So a lot of people feel safe dismissing romance etc, because they can feel more unique, more special than the great unwashed masses of romance readers and Oprah watchers. And they don’t worry that they’re missing anything because of the predictability.
Also, maybe “awards” in general are less well regarded and maybe the RITAs are just a bit lower in the heap of the low regard. Or maybe we just need a new sexier name for the Rita so publishers will splash it on the cover of books. I still would like to see the romance book of the year award.
SPOILER ALERT. Didn’t he cut off her finger? I think it ceases to be a romance when the hero permanently maims the heroine.
No, it wasn’t the hero. It was the guy the hero saves her *from*, which seems pretty standard Romance fare to me. As we’re having this discussion I keep thinking of that old Gaffney book Lily, because I don’t know if I’ve ever read a Romance that had SO MANY horrible things happen to the heroine. Except for maybe Skye O’Malley and Rangoon (and I kind of love Rangoon, even though I wouldn’t argue it’s the best written novel—but boy is it compelling, IMO).
We’re talking about the romance-slamming ads on the buses (or subways?) in D.C. We’re talking about the articles in the New York Times and Salon and other high-profile publications basically slamming romance and chick lit and calling them trash. Eloisa James rocks, and some academics are showing the romance love, but if you can point to an equal number of mainstream, high-circulation publications
I think maybe the problem is that I don’t identify any of these venues as the literati. They may be major snobs, but as I’ve witnessed a certain unique snobbery in Romance, too, I don’t see it as connected to any sort of literary perspective. In fact, I usually think of snobbery as something way more common in those that aspire to some “elite” level (whatever that may be). Like why did all those working people vote for Bush? Okay, I’m digressing, but basically I don’t think the exclusion of Romance is the work of the literati or by some literati hegemony. That whole Washington initiative, thing, for example, was a trade organization, an initiative focused on economic development. I just think they had a collective brain fart on that one. I was kind of blown away, actually, that they had a *guy* reading Romance, but nobody seemed focused on that. Sometimes I think those things are just knee jerk reactions without any real consideration behind them. All I know is that my friends who won’t read Romance haven’t internalized ANY pejorative notions of quality reading, and they don’t read the NYT or Maureen Dowd.
One thing we haven’t talked about, though, is the way Romance is seen as serving a sexual purpose for women, and how that seems to inspire a lot of discomfort (see KristieJ’s post at http://www.accessromance.com/gab/ or the conversations at Teach Me Tonight on porn and Romance). Because, of course, women should be really apologetic about celebrating our sexuality. And you know what—I don’t think it’s just the patriarchy, or even an internalization of patriarchal values by women that perpetuates this myth. Even within the genre, women have, IMO, been really skittish about admitting that the sex is an important part of Romance for many readers, and that it’s valid. Is this channeling the patriarchy? At what point are we actually creating these views in the name of something that wouldn’t exist if we didn’t believe in it anymore? Where are *we* abdicating our own sense of agency?
My own experience is usually that when people start talking about “trash” they often connect moral judgments to that (like the Mapplethorpe photo flap). I really think that if women in general were more accepting of their own sexuality that the social orientation to Romance in general would shift. Instead of the billionaire sheikh with the nine-inch cock ‘o gold, we’d have the 35-year old kick-ass CEO who seduces her 25 year old male secretary and STILL keeps her job at the end of the book! Without the aid of magic sperm or healing honey pots.
They have three things in common—they’re popular, i.e. high profile, they bring in the bucks and they’re predictable. People just think, I don’t have to read a romance, I already know they’re going to wind up together.
Oh, good point about the predictability. One more reason I think Romance is a paradigm and that readers basically make a shift such that they can read the genre without seeing this as a fatal flaw.
Victoria: This is why I love you. ♥
Yaaaaarg!
Oh, good point about the predictability. One more reason I think Romance is a paradigm and that readers basically make a shift such that they can read the genre without seeing this as a fatal flaw.
No more of a fatal flaw than most other genres. No one reads a mystery wondering if anyone is EVER going to figure out what really happened. The protagonist may be in danger in a thriller, but she isn’t really going to be decapitated by the serial killer.
No more of a fatal flaw than most other genres. No one reads a mystery wondering if anyone is EVER going to figure out what really happened. The protagonist may be in danger in a thriller, but she isn’t really going to be decapitated by the serial killer.
But isn’t the sense of closure different? You know the mystery will be solved in a Mystery novel, but you don’t know who done it. In a Romance, you know WHO will get together and that they do. So the enjoyment is in the journey, which isn’t necessarily obvious to someone who isn’t thinking about the particular pleasures of that book after book after book.
I have nothing to contribute here, but I gotta say: I wish I could be Robin or Candy when (if I could ever) grow up!
Fangirl squeeeeeeing aside: the intelligent discourse in these discussions is helluva proof that not all romance readers are not mindless sheep with no taste.
Thank you, ALL Smart Bitches!
And, of course, that should read: “not all romance readers are mindless sheep with no taste.”
Note to self: there’s a preview option, you ninny. USE IT!
Okay… but how many books in a year do you come across that bust your grade curve? How many movies? How many singers? Enough to fill the 13 winning slots?
Award-winning books do tend to bust my grade curve, at least they do for most awards. Except the RITAs.
*DUN-DUN-DUUUUUN*
Am seriously contemplating doing the RITA challenge, by the way. I made a list of the winners from the last ten years and annotated it. Be afraid, be very, very afraid.
After reading all 228 comments…***in a small voice***
I still want a RITA for my dining room table/writing desk
***hanging my head***
You see, it’d mean something to ME, to show to my family and friends that big STATUETTE (and it’s a fine golden award. I’ve patted one on her head) when they come for dinner. It means something to THEM that I’ve won an award and yes, they’re probably not as technical about the details, rules and genres. They probably won’t ask me how these books are judged. Nor would they wonder whether my book can be compared to Rousseau’s.
All they would understand is that I won an award. And they’d tell my enemies and naysayers-pals that I’ve won a big award. And of course, they would embellish its bigness and importance.
And I know I’d feel all glowy inside when I bump into them and when they ask me about the award, I’d whip out my pocket digital and show them the photo of me dressed to the nines, holding it up. Yeah, I’m shallow and bitchy like that.
Now that I’ve written that, I think I want to win two of them. One for each end of the dining table.
;-P (ha, my word is middle97)
Gennita: of course you still want a RITA. Who doesn’t want to win an industry award voted on by the professionals in their category? Shit, if I were romance novel writer, I’d want to win a RITA. RITAs don’t mean anything to me as a reader. How it’s perceived by and its importance to other people, especially other authors, is another thing entirely.
Slightly OT:
Hemingway is THE great grandaddy grandmaster pimp of sparse prose…Also can’t think of any romance authors who write with this minimalist quality.
If anyone can think of a romance (or any commercial genre) author with a sparse prose style, I’d love to know. I just read A Farewell to Arms and I think the general minimalism was the only reason he could suddenly drop a line like, “I felt faint with loving her” and have it come off as powerful, not schmaltzy.
I heard about this discussion from another forum. I’m not a regular romance reader, but I do nominate and vote in the Hugos, and my housemate helps administer the Arthur Ellis awards (the Canadian mystery awards) so I have some familiarity with how these works. I have friends who write paranormal romances, and I scheduled an SF&F-romance mini-track of panels at Cascadia Con a couple years ago.
A comment was made that one could try to manipulate the Hugos by nominating in a block. Things like this have happened, but it’s very difficult to get on the ballot and effectively impossible to manipulate the award . First, you have to be a member of either the previous or upcoming Worldcon, so it’s not free to try this; it’s going to cost $40-$50 to be at least a supporting member. Second, it takes a bunch of nominations to get onto the ballot, so you’d need a lot of friends (now the cost is hundreds of dollars) to get on the ballot, so it’s even less free. Third, if you try it (and people have), you might get on the ballot, but the effort tends to generate so much negative gossip that a lot of voting members would make a point of voting for other works. It takes hundreds of votes to actually win in the literary categories, so the membership cost is thousands of dollars. The Hugos work well because a core group of voters and nominators take their role seriously, acting as a filter for frivolous or undeserving nominations.
Someone else observed that awards should date back to the ‘50s. That’s a funny comment, but it is certainly true that tradition and longevity of an award add to the award’s significance and credibility in the marketplace and among readers, critics, publishers, editors, and academics.
Your process sounds like the Arthur Ellis award process. Authors have to submit works, with a small fee to cover the costs (mostly mailing) of the awards committee. The nominal cost doesn’t deter any worthwhile contender. But they get several dozen books submitted. Scaling this to a thousand entries sounds quite onerous.
I can’t tell you how to “fix” the awards, but from the perspective of a literary observer outside your community, the Rita awards are well established and respected by non-romance colleagues and observers. How y’all make the sausages is up to you.
The Hugos work well because a core group of voters and nominators take their role seriously, acting as a filter for frivolous or undeserving nominations.
I do agree that with such a large number of voters, the nominating cream does tend to rise to the top. But do most voters take it seriously enough to be sure they read every entry on the final ballot and judge accordingly, or do most choose among the 3, 2, or 1 that they’ve read?
For that matter, getting nominated in the first place is helped/hindered by all the factors I cited somewhere in the comments to the next post—price, time of release, publisher’s promotional budget, etc.
Recently Neil Gaiman took himself out of the running for the Hugos because he wanted to give less well-known authors a chance. I wouldn’t expect Nora Roberts to do this for the Ritas, her books are still judged head-to-head with other books, all of which are actually read by the judges, thus reducing the “celebrity factor” and making it less of a popularity contest.
In fact, I’d wager that judges might score Nora’s books more stringently because of her reputation.
If anyone can think of a romance (or any commercial genre) author with a sparse prose style, I’d love to know. I just read A Farewell to Arms and I think the general minimalism was the only reason he could suddenly drop a line like, “I felt faint with loving her†and have it come off as powerful, not schmaltzy.
Jeri, Anne Stuart’s more recent romantic suspense books have a spare style. Not as poetic as Hemingway’s, but it still packs a powerful punch. I recommend you read Black Ice. It too has lines that in another book could easily have been shmaltzy, but aren’t in the least, in part because of the dark nature of the tale and in part because of the minimalist style of the writing.
Caroline wrote:
So I guess I was wrong, it’s UK and Ireland. My bad. Sorry!
“Commonwealth” includes Canada and Australia as well, I’m pretty sure a couple of Canadian authors have won the Booker prize.
Jeri wrote:
In fact, I’d wager that judges might score Nora’s books more stringently because of her reputation.
Somehow the argument took an odd turn. I would not argue Hugos=good, Ritas=bad. I would say that both work fairly well because they are well established, so the people who participate in them take them seriously enough to make sure the best entries win. No award process is perfect; the real test is whether over time the list of award winners reflects the best of the field. Over time, it is this track record that lends credibility and gravitas to certain awards.
I met Neil Gaiman at an after-Hugos party one year. He is an occasionally brilliant author who deserves the awards he’s won. If he thinks he has enough, that’s nice for him. My observation is that the literary and media categories of the Hugos are not as susceptible in the long run to simple popularity as some people seem to assume.
“Commonwealth†includes Canada and Australia as well, I’m pretty sure a couple of Canadian authors have won the Booker prize.
Quick clarification, here: The Commonwealth of Nations includes 53 countries, most of them former holdings of the British Empire. I’m from a Commonwealth nation (Malaysia). Other member nations include India, Pakistan, Singapore and Nigeria.
Hi, Smart Bitches,
this is a request for editing this old discussion so it is more legible. There is a closing italics tag missing somewhere in the middle of it, and it really difficult to read all this italic text plus differentiating what is quoted/highlighted text and what is new/original/normal text. I’ve added one at the start of my post, but as I understand it that will only effect text that comes after mine.