Mills & Boon: Heaven, Hell, or just people Hyperventilating

Thanks to Arethusa, I read this humdinger of an article from the Guardian featuring two writers, Daisy Cummins and Julie Bindel, squaring off from their respective positions on the relative quality and contribution of Mills & Boon novels.

Daisy, who writes them, says that “The women who populate these books come from as disparate and wide-ranging economic situations as the women who read them. To say they are all mindless romantic illiterates yearning to be saved is lazy ignorance.”

Well, yes, sweeping generalizations about all women are not wise. One or more of us will beg to differ – especially those of us who (a) read romance and (b) bristle at the idea that we’re mindless illiterates. It is a lazy generalization that I’ve seen too much of, personally speaking.

Meanwhile, Bindel, who isn’t mad at the readers or the writers of the novels (who then is she so fired up about? The publisher? Mr. Mills and Mr. Boon who thought up the great business venture?) counters that, “My loathing of M&B novels has nothing to do with snobbery. I could not care less if the books are trashy, formulaic or pulp fiction – Martina Cole novels, which I love, are also formulaic. But I do care about the type of propaganda perpetuated by M&B. I would go so far as to say it is misogynistic hate speech.”

Bindel then delivers the final blow that made me wheeze and roll my eyes at the same time: “This is what heterosexual romantic fiction promotes – the sexual submission of women to men. M&B novels are full of patriarchal propaganda. I can say it no better than the late, great Andrea Dworkin. This classic depiction of romance is simply “rape embellished with meaningful looks”.

Oh, please. Can we all just take a deep breath? I’m the first to defend the genre and my deep abiding love of it, but we are talking about romance novels here. Are they a primary factor contributing to the continuation of the subjugation of women? Do women get raped because they read romance? Are they asking for it if their copy of “The Flame and the Flower” peeks out of their handbag? Is Roe v. Wade in the US teetering on the edge of being overturned because someone read “The Boardroom Sheik’s Remodeled Kitchen With a Virgin on the Corian Counter?” Hardly! Sweet weeping Moses in a steaming shit sidecar.

As Candy stated in her review of Dark Lover, the patterns of Othering and depictions of fertility are fascinating and revealing in romance novels, and certainly the genre as a whole is ripe for literature folks to uncover unstudied areas of narrative portrayal. But what does “The Roman Sword Master’s Giant Sword Of Mighty Wang” reveal about the reader and the writer of very alpha-male romantic fiction? Yes, it’s not fiction to my personal tastes, and I do find it hilarious that many writers and readers would really rather not have dinner with the buttnoid alpha bonehead hero they enjoy, but is it the end of the known world for all women that some women enjoy reading that particular storyline? Nice of Brindel to throw that caveat in there that she doesn’t blame the writers or the readers (Thanks!) but is the existence of romance fiction Keeping The Womyn Down?

Please. Women harshing on the freedom of other women to read and wank off to whatever fantasy they want is what’s Keepin’ the Womyn Down.

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  1. Meriam says:

    What has she won, exactly?

    This is an opportunity for us to discuss really interesting ideas. I’m loving some of the comments in this thread – and in the teachmetonight blog.

    Okay, I studied politics and this brings it all back, but isn’t it fun?

  2. Arethusa says:

    I guess I am always going to resist the idea that romance should “help” the feminist movement, or bolster self-esteem, or be obligated to promote any kind of particular “competing ideology” to help make the world a better place. People of whichever gender have and will always desire and imagine certain social situations that do not fall within acceptable public bounds. Be aware, sure, that has its place, but as I said before, unless someone shows me a body of study that proves that reading lots of Harlequin Presents has any woman-hating effects, feeding “directly into some women’s sense of themselves as lesser beings, as creatures desperate to be dominated” (because that’s Harlequin’s fault!) I’m going to shake my head and buy a Sheikh romance.

    I’m also one of those readers who is fine with romance being “just” entertainment. I value the importance of the fluffy as well as the weighty as they affect my quality of life, so I don’t see it is as a consolation prize either.

    Myself, I’m waiting for the grand day when certain feminist ideologies will be able to accept the fact that some women like to read stuff that doesn’t square with their [ie the readers’] principles and that any “harm” from this activity, part of the pervasive patriarchal system, is actually negligible. I’m not holding my breath.

  3. Arethusa says:

    I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t read romance to have my life choices reflected or confirmed. I’m not particularly interested in reading about heroines who use the “headache” excuse successfully. I like variety and romance, as it is now, amply provides that. I’m sorry that England only has Greek billionaire romances.

    As for romance heroes who are dying for babies that describes just about every Lori Foster hero. If he’s not convinced at the outset he is by the end. (She’s also popular enough to count, I think.)

  4. --E says:

    Robin, thanks for the reccs. I already had Spymaster’s Lady on pre-order because of earlier talk here about it. Oh, that dreadful cover.

    Kis, have ordered Black Chalice. I especially like the review on Amazon from PW, calling it an “irritating, brilliant novel…” Sounds good to me!

    Nora, I know a lot of fellows like your sons (most of my male friends are of that sort, because I don’t like having jerks for friends, but I do like having male friends). But they still seem to be the exception rather than the rule, even in my world of educated, upper-middle-class liberals. (And, dammit, they all got snatched up early!)

    This whole discussion has made my job very strange. Just today I was working on a book where the wife has sex with her husband just to get it over with. In context it’s not rape, but certainly the feeling of “Argh, at least if I have sex with him, he’ll be done in ten minutes and I can get some sleep” isn’t a good one.

    This book isn’t a romance novel, but rather “women’s fiction.” It’s actually pretty good, and the scene serves as a thematic development on the couple’s root problem: poor communication, and the wife’s desire to be accomodating to her husband’s family.

  5. Miranda says:

    A few examples from mainstream sites, and the final one is definitely not work safe. Comments are from the links.

    http://www.babycenter.ca/baby/dilemmas/wifedoesntwantsex/

    “We only make love about once a month and even then I get the impression that it’s a chore for her.”

    “…and so what if she feels obligated, she is your wife after all.”

    http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/12079143/

    “Being tired is an excuse. Many people work hard and get tired. Sure, there are many competing priorities in life, but you do not want tiredness to push sex to the bottom of the list. Otherwise, your spouse becomes your roommate.”

    http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20070512103811AAbMQf5&show=7

    “have been married for seven years and the only time we have sex is if she thinks I’m really fedup then will to keep me quiet”

    http://ms.about.com/od/forfriendsandfamily/f/ms_wife_sex.htm

    “My wife has MS and doesn’t want to have sex anymore. Why not and what can I do?”

    That’s my favorite. My wife has a disease AND OMG I AIN’T GETTING ANY!!

    http://women.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/women/relationships/bel_mooney/article571379.ece

    “It seems that I must always accept her wishes in the matter of physical affection, while she is never prepared to recognise mine.”

    I really hate that she won’t lie there and take it

    http://www.marriageromance.com/stories/11102115123.htm

    “Please understand i get sex from her, but when we are having sex she doesn’t really participate in the act, she just lays there.”

    Not about marriage, particularly but speaking of respecting men:

    http://men.style.com/details/blogs/details/alternative_orifices/index.html

    This discusses anal sex, and when it’s ok to ‘demand’ it. Not work safe.

    “them a good story to tell over beers—and more the psychology. “For most of my friends, it’s sort of a domination thing,” says John (not his real name), 30, a writer in New York. “[It’s] basically getting someone in a position where they’re most vulnerable. My friends enjoy that and they tell their friends they did it. But it’s not like girls are ready for it—it’s something they do when they’re really drunk.”

  6. Robin says:

    I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t read romance to have my life choices reflected or confirmed.

    I don’t either, actually, or I’d not read so widely in the genre and beyond.  God knows I have no interest in becoming a spy/daughter of an earl/vampire hunter who marries a CIA agent/noble-blooded rake/shapeshifter, lol.

    I guess I am always going to resist the idea that romance should “help” the feminist movement, or bolster self-esteem, or be obligated to promote any kind of particular “competing ideology” to help make the world a better place.

    I am in complete agreement with you here.  I think what several of us are saying is that Romance is *already* value-laden (not value neutral) as all products of culture are.  And that some of us are interested in looking at how the genre expresses and reflects those values.  Not that anyone has to or should be reading for those (most of us don’t when we’re kicking back), just that they’re there already if one happens to be interested in looking (although we might disagree about what we see and what it means).

    Someone earlier mentioned fairy tales, and I didn’t follow up because I didn’t want to implicate any equivalence between literature for children and literature for grown-ups.  And I still don’t want to do that, but I will point out that fairy tales are among the most widely used literary forms for acculturating children into society.  I found this little piece on fairy tales from the Yale-New Haven Teacher’s Institute, a long-time University/K-12 partnership.  Because it’s aimed at teachers there’s a curriculum unit and stuff, but some of the historical and literary context stuff mirrors, IMO, some of what we’ve been discussing here, not necessarily in content, but in terms of seeing fiction as culturally coded:
    http://www.yale.edu/ynhti/curriculum/units/1984/4/84.04.07.x.html

    If anyone happens to be interested, of course.

  7. Poison Ivy says:

    It’s so tempting to talk about the position of women. And about how to improve men. But I’m going to resist and focus back on romances.

    Romances change as society changes. During the period when baby boomer women were avoiding having babies, romances didn’t have babies in them. Period. Then, when we as a generation finally realized it was now or never, suddenly romances were flooded with babies. They still are, because baby boomers, the largest bump in romance readers (and writers, too), are still raising some of those babies or feeling a bit nostalgic about the process. But I can tell you that a lot of us are in fact tired of babies, and our ennui probably accounts for the lackluster situation for category romance these days. Been there. Done that. Next.

    And what about careers? Up until the very late 1970s, romance heroines routinely gave up their careers for marriage. Then it became a conflict that they won. Now, it’s not even on the table for discussion. Times change. Romances change.

    I did an entire blog on rape sagas of the 1970s and I won’t rehash that here. Not a whole lot of romantic raping going on in romances lately, as we all know. I’m happy about that.

    But yes, a romance is still an apotheosis of an intimate relationship. The details of the HEA change as writers and editors have the wit and vision to go in new directions, pushed by their own new needs as women. But women who want to read about other happenings in women’s lives have a wealth of other books to read. A novel about a woman does not have to be a romance. Read an Oprah pick. She’s about as anti-romantic as they come. 

    And women who want to read genre that isn’t all about an HEA can read paranormal, science fiction, fantasy, chick lit, and erotica, to name a few. Its writers certainly don’t feel obliged to wrap up everything with an HEA that includes a wedding and babies. Doesn’t the mere existence of erotica prove that women as readers and writers have progressed to a point of raised feminist consciousness that is the exact opposite of the standard patriarchal linkage of sex with procreation in marriage? Yes, you bet it does.

    So why publish a book entitled Pleasured in the Billionaire’s Bed (Harlequin Presents #2588)? Because money and power and sex sell. They sell books. They sell movies. They sell poor Britney Spears and all the people Dancing with the Stars, too. Commerce and the deep themes of fiction do have a nexus. And it’s the same old same old: Money. Power. Sex.

    By the way, that Harlequin was a balanced story about a woman who has her own business and is not influenced or oppressed in any way by the hero’s money or fame. It was all about her conviction that she was frigid, and his coaxing campaign to prove otherwise. The title and the back cover blurb promised a power dynamic that never existed in the story itself. And that’s a dishonesty in marketing, not an author writing a book that attempts to reduce women to chattel status. But titles and blurbs like those wouldn’t exist for long if they weren’t selling the books. To us.

  8. Christine Merrill says:

    “I am in complete agreement with you here.  I think what several of us are saying is that Romance is *already* value-laden (not value neutral) as all products of culture are.”

    Then why do romances always take the hit, when we have the patriarchal brainwashing discussion?  Aren’t we more in danger from the continual, subtle bombardment of things we don’t notice?

    “Someone earlier mentioned fairy tales, and I didn’t follow up because I didn’t want to implicate any equivalence between literature for children and literature for grown-ups.”

    But if you study story-telling, as a lot of writers do, you find that fairy tales were never intended to be children’s stories.  They used to be everyone’s stories, and were much too violent and sexually graphic for modern children.  They only became children’s stories when the Grimms cleaned them up.

    Fairy tales are the archetypes that we draw on, consciously or unconsciously, when we write.  And although it may look, from the outside, that the only conflict we are writing about is ‘will they or won’t they have sex/get married/have babies?’ that is not the truth.  Everyone already knows the answer to this. 

    The central conflict, from the writer’s perspective is usually something else entirely:  ‘can she keep a business, can she survive illness, can she protect what’s important to her?’

    And since these are books written for by and about women, the heroine in these stories is going to win twice.  She gets the guy, and anything else she wanted.  These stories are about having it all.

    I’m writing historicals, so my hands are kind of tied, when arguing for or against marriage and babies.  Marriage and babies was the main career track for women.  But from a feminist perspective (which I am holding as I write, because I would go insane if I had to write about doormats for a living) my stories are about sexual power.  My female characters are aware that their bodies and reproductive capabilities are a commodity, and they know that the system is stacked against them.  They want a happy and secure future.  The definition of happiness changes with the heroine, but she’ll have it by the end of the story.

    And I’m with Nora on the liberated men front.  I have a husband and two teenage boys.  Husband is responsible for all laundry, and changed diapers, gave bottles and has done everything else needed to parent the kids, baby to adult..  And he stressed plenty about balancing family and career.

    Older son does dishes, younger son vacuums and watches food network with me and tries recipes that interest him.  And we just bought a snowblower, light enough for me to run, since work is not gender specific here.  Of course, we all still argue continually about housework, as will any four people who are too busy to keep up with the housework and don’t want to ‘do it all’. 

    And, because of a peer helping group he’s in, older son is continually wearing t-shirts in neon colors that warn girls about the dangers of dating violence and encourage them to get help, if there is a problem.  (I find this a little sexist, since out of a hundred shirts, statistically, there should be a few in the group to warn boys who get hit by their girlfriends or boyfriends).

    As romance writers, we are telling you what we expect from the men in our lives.  Do you really think that we sit down at the computer to be tools of the patriarchy from 9 to 5, and then knock off work to be liberated?

  9. Robin says:

    Then why do romances always take the hit, when we have the patriarchal brainwashing discussion?  Aren’t we more in danger from the continual, subtle bombardment of things we don’t notice?

    I think Romances become the center of attention in these discussions 1) because this is a Romance-related blog, 2) more generally because Romances are the most popular and widespread literature that are *explicitly* about relationships between men and women, and are therefore already involved in a larger discussion about gender roles, sexuality, and social power, and 3) because to those outside the Romance reader paradigm, the covers, blurbs, and titles invite a skeptical perspective, which sometimes results in provocative or even hostile commentary that sparks discussions like this one.

    But from my perspective, these discussions have been ongoing for many years about all sorts of literary and popular genres (I can give you scads of academic references for articles and books that focus on race, gender, and class in popular fiction and culture), and Romance is now generating more critical attention *from its own readers and authors*—which I guess can seem disloyal to those readers and authors who aren’t interested in that kind of analysis. 

    Not, IMO, that such interest hasn’t been there for much longer, but I think the online revolution has facilitated this kind of discussion among a diverse collection of readers and authors, and all of a sudden there seems to be a different aspect of the genre culture emerging, the “critical Romance reader.”  Who, btw isn’t any “better” than the reader who doesn’t have any interest in that kind of reading. 

    I’m not going to defend Bindel’s argument, because I disagree with it, but at the same time, I don’t think that discussing cultural values and gender roles in Romance is inherently denigrating of the genre, either. In fact, sometimes it can engender a healthy dose of respect for the genre, IMO.

    But if you study story-telling, as a lot of writers do, you find that fairy tales were never intended to be children’s stories.  They used to be everyone’s stories, and were much too violent and sexually graphic for modern children.  They only became children’s stories when the Grimms cleaned them up.

    Oh, yeah, the Brothers Grimm definitely made folk/fairy tales children’s literature.  But as you point out, they were always “everyone’s, stories” including children, who were included (and important) in the audience, because these stories contain valuable information about social roles and expectations, morality, community values and norms (in the same way that myths are so often about the formation of societies and communities).  And they have always played a critical role in promoting community coherence by transferring “proper” behavior to community members including and especially children (which is one of the reasons children have long been featured in so many folk/fairy tales). 

    Now I don’t think Romance has near the acculturative function that folk/fairy tales have historically had (and I’m not talking about Disney stories, which IMO are a whole different breed). But Romances do explicitly imagine again and again an idealized image of society, which, IMO, makes them ripe for these kinds of discussions, just like 19th century domestic fiction does, just like sci/fi does (I TAed a Science Fiction course in grad school that focused on race, gender, political structure, etc.), just like movies do (through film criticism), just like television and videos and video games and music genres all do via cultural studies. 

    LizE made a comment on the AAR thread on this issue that I really like (and she’s much more articulate than I am on this issue):
    http://aarboards.com/viewtopic.php?p=24741#24741 

    Do you really think that we sit down at the computer to be tools of the patriarchy from 9 to 5, and then knock off work to be liberated?

    When I first started reading the genre, I was extremely disturbed by the prevalence in the genre of rape and other violent acts perpetrated on women.  It just seemed to be *everywhere* in the genre, whether it was in the heroine’s past, threatened by the villain, converted to a sexual fantasy with the hero, used to punish so-called “bad” women, etc.  And it really freaked me out.

    Over time, and through many books, I started to make distinctions and comparisons, to ferret out different aspects and types of violence, such that I started to see some things as subversive.  With the history of violence directed at women, I could see some instances of it in the genre as attempts to alter the terms so that the woman came out as the powerful one, or so she brought the man around and neutralized the threat.  Some aspects I began to view as attempts to understand or make coherent something that can often seem big and scary and ubiquitous. 

    Had I not been trained to read texts critically, had I not approached the genre trying to understand this big thing that really disturbed me, I don’t know if I could have gotten past some of the violence, let alone seen it as cathartic or subversive or healing in its own way.  Of course there are instances where I am still disturbed, and I want to be able to talk about those, too, and to see what other people have to say about them, as well.  Not that anyone *should* have those interests.  But I know for myself reading this way has made what I love in the genre so much more meaningful, and some of what I don’t love more comprehensible for me, which in both cases has been a good thing.

  10. SB Sarah says:

    Willaful said:

    “My ultimate position in this discussion comes down the famous Gloria Steinem quote:

    “I have yet to hear a man ask for advice on how to combine marriage and a career.” “

    But people *are* starting to take note of how difficult it is to combine fatherhood and a career.

    Amen to that. It’s a constant discussion and consideration in our home as well, as Hubby is certainly a father who struggles with the demands of a career and tries to balance both. I’d venture to say based on my personal experience and the experience of fathers around me that as hard as it is for women to balance jobs and motherhood, it is equally hard in different but equally difficult and painful ways for men to balance career expectations and their own desire to be involved, active fathers. This is not to say that previous generations were marked by absent or uninvolved fathers. I am speaking of the immediate and yes, anecdotal, evidence of fathers around me who would like to chuck their Blackberries in the nearest watery depth.

    Which leads me back to Robin’s excellent point that it is important to consider Romance as reflective of our current culture. While the fact that Brindel draws broad conclusions based on an out-of-date sample bristles, it remains important to consider what Romance trends say about us as the genre changes and the readership does as well.

    Which in turn leads me to consider the difficulties of men in my immediate generation who struggle to balance fatherhood and career, and the prevalence of “secret baby” plots, which force a man to confront the abrupt juxtaposition of their life as they know it (which could be career-based) with the arrival or discovery of their child. Is the current attitude toward fatherhood reflected in that popular subgenre? Is it related?

    Must think on that. After much sleep. And coffee.

  11. Poison Ivy says:

    Don’t know if the secret baby plot reflects new attitudes towards fatherhood. It’s mostly about unwed and struggling motherhood, after all. And it has a lot of anger in it for the easy life the man has had while the woman has been totally derailed by this baby she’s had the entire burden of raising.

    Hmm…come to think of it, that could be a seldom-acknowledged subtext in secret baby stories, how hard motherhood is when men don’t do their share of owning up to parental (and sexual) responsibility.

    I’ve always thought of the secret baby story as a fantasy reunion theme, a reconciliation theme if you will. In real life, the lover from seven years ago doesn’t return and want a woman back. But in romance fantasy, he does, or she does, and every issue that forced them apart is aired. And the suffering that one or the other or both endured also is aired and finally laid to rest.

    In detailing the suffering, these romances give voice to the struggle of the single mother in our culture as no other stories do. And then they give her an HEA. Hooray for romance!

  12. Miranda says:

    I wonder if the secret baby sub-genre is an extension of the idea that women can only find true fulfillment in motherhood (e.g. the movie Baby Boom). Now, men can only get to find true fulfillment as involved fathers as well.

    There’s also the idea that a baby can save a relationship that’s in trouble, whereas in real life, I’ve noticed that working about as well as using gasoline to put out a fire.

  13. Christine Merrill says:

    ” wonder if the secret baby sub-genre is an extension of the idea that women can only find true fulfillment in motherhood”

    If the baby is secret, the woman, is unexpectedly pregnant, not seeking fulfillment through a baby.  She decides to keep the kid (for whatever reason) but not the man, since he is not a worthy partner/parent.

    Later, after she has been a successful single parent, the man reappears.  He proves that he is capable of being a good father.  And he still finds the mom hot as hell, even though she’s not nineteen and childless. 

    They live happily ever after.

    So this type of story is about not losing your sexuality after having kids, and the belief that fathers should contribute more than biology to a successful relationship.

    If a reader doesn’t want kids, this will never talk her into them.  But if she has them or wants them, it’s an assurance that romantic love doesn’t have to end with procreation.

  14. Robin says:

    I know that secret baby books tend to get dissed and dismissed, but I find them really fascinating for two reasons:  1) secret, and 2) baby. 

    How do people feel about those books where the heroine keeps the baby secret from the hero, not because he disappears or she knows he’d be a bad dad, but because she 1) doesn’t want him to be involved in HER life, 2) thinks he doesn’t love HER, or 3) wants the baby to be all HERS?  And is that fair to the BABY, let alone the dad? And is the child actually a child or a plot device?  And what does it mean for a child to have to adjust to first a single parent and then the news that its father didn’t even know he/she existed? Why is the fantasy so often played out between the H&H as if the child didn’t really exist? 

    I’m thinking, for example, of Rachel Gibson’s Daisy’s Back In Town, where the heroine decides not to tell the hero she’s pregnant with his kid, marries his best friend instead and moves away, and then comes back to her hometown when the boy is a teenager and the best friend has died.  I loved that Gibson made it clear that Daisy’s choice was selfish, and I took the fact that I wanted to slap her silly a couple of times as a good thing, because so rarely, IMO, are Romance heroines allowed to be selfish and unlikeable in their kid choices.  So I credit Gibson with making Daisy flawed in this way.  And she portrayed a fair amount of anger in the hero (realistically, IMO), who, of course, doesn’t find out about his son directly from the heroine.

    But IMO the quick fix was still pretty much in, which diminished the HEA for me.  The son was one of those hyper-astute, sensitive but well-adjusted types, so we know he was raised well and can handle the disruption, but still, even that seems kind of a cop out.  IIRC, the kid knew his “father” wasn’t the DNA-contributor, but still, is it enough that we all THINK the hero wouldn’t have been the father or the husband the heroine and child needed for all those years?  Is it all about representing the way the heroine is possessed of more responsibility than she should be, or about a revelation that she should have been more trusting, or affirmation of her choice for independence in the gift of True Love from the real father? 

    To me, the secret baby books are kind of a litmus test as to how important children really are—or aren’t—in the genre.

  15. TracyS says:

    The only time the secret baby thing works for me is if: 1) the heroine thinks the hero is dead (can’t remember which book I read this in) or 2.) she cannot find him (this was a military book where she didn’t know his last name and he was gone from her area soon after teh sex happened).

    If it’s for any other reason then it’s selfish.  If the book deals with the selfishness of the choice and admits the heroine was wrong then maybe that would be different. I’ve never read “Daisy’s Back in Town” so I cannot comment on that.

    I just cannot abide a woman that doesn’t tell a man no matter what her reasons (unless he’s a terrorist or some such but then I don’t think he’ll be the hero of the book!).

    Just my opinion of course! LOL

    Not sure if I explained myself well here or not.

  16. “How do people feel about those books where the heroine keeps the baby secret from the hero, not because he disappears or she knows he’d be a bad dad, but because she 1) doesn’t want him to be involved in HER life, 2) thinks he doesn’t love HER, or 3) wants the baby to be all HERS?”

    Hate those kind. In fact, I’m not overkeen on babies in romances at all. Many writers don’t seem to know how a child of, say, two, three, or four should behave. I just read a book where a two and a half year old was chatting in sentences and there was no mention of nappies, and she slept in a bed, rather than a cot. I tried to ignore it, because the rest of the book was rather good.
    Secret baby plots – I can take them when there is a good reason for it, for instance, the mother thinks the father is dead, or has evidence that he doesn’t care, or some other good reason not to tell him. Then they can be fun. But to take a unilateral decision like that just isn’t fair on the father and I find it hard to forgive a mother for that.

  17. Robin says:

    If it’s for any other reason then it’s selfish.  If the book deals with the selfishness of the choice and admits the heroine was wrong then maybe that would be different. I’ve never read “Daisy’s Back in Town” so I cannot comment on that.

    I just cannot abide a woman that doesn’t tell a man no matter what her reasons (unless he’s a terrorist or some such but then I don’t think he’ll be the hero of the book!).

    This is one of the things I struggle with, too, Tracy.  I haven’t read a ton of these books, but none of the ones I have read have left me feeling settled.  Either I’m thinking about how the kid was sacrificed for the HEA of the couple, or how the hero’s rights were violated unilaterally by the heroine, or how the heroine has cut off two very important rights from her kid (biological father and child support), or how I feel uncomfortable judging the heroine for her choices, etc.  In other words, these stories don’t seem to provide me with a restful fantasy, lol.  In some ways they seem kind of a strange fit in the genre IMO, but their popularity makes them a veritable staple.

  18. Robin says:

    In fact, I’m not overkeen on babies in romances at all. Many writers don’t seem to know how a child of, say, two, three, or four should behave.

    This bugs me, too.  And it kind of confuses me, too, especially since kids seem so much a part of the genre.  It reminds me a little of RfP’s most recent Reader’s Gab column on bad sex writing (http://accessromance.com/gab/2007/12/06/bad-sex-in-the-library/), something we also see quite often in the genre.  I know it’s not because authors don’t have sex or kids, but what is it that makes these two central elements of the genre so annoying sometimes?

  19. Christine Merrill says:

    “To me, the secret baby books are kind of a litmus test as to how important children really are—or aren’t—in the genre.”

    I agree there.  Secret babies are definitely not my thing.  Too many plot holes to make the story believable for me.  How can she be so selfish?  Why doesn’t she ask for child support?  How bad does the guy have to be to want him to permanently disappear, and if he’s that bad, why would you ever take him back?  Isn’t this kid going to end up in therapy for-ev-er?

    I think the baby exists as a prop, in these stories, to serve the reader’s fantasy.  Maybe it’s really about regaining a first love, or getting some kind of do-over.  The baby-daddy isn’t a drunken loser who won’t pay child support, or a total player, or the worst one night stand of your life.

    He’s really a stand up guy, who loves you, no matter what.  And he loves the kid too, and will drop easily into the role of father: changing diapers, coaching little league, and whatever else needs doing.  I bet he helps with the housework, after the book is done.  And, of course, the sex is great.

    If the reader is a single mother with small kids, she might be looking for a much more practical version of prince charming to fantasize about, than the readers who are picking up the Greek billionaire, womanizing boss stories.

  20. azteclady says:

    After a few tries, I gave up on secret baby stories. They made me so angry I couldn’t see straight! It seemed like the humanity of the child was never considered.

    In most cases the entire construct hinges on the mother being utterly alone and pregnant—who in his/her right mind can think that denying that child another parent in case of death, illness, accident, can be in the best interest of the child? Unless, as said above, the biological father is a psychopath/terrorist/abusive drunkard junkie/what-have-you, and in that case, he ain’t no romance novel hero, right?

  21. Teddy Pig says:

    Too many plot holes to make the story believable for me.  How can she be so selfish?  Why doesn’t she ask for child support?  How bad does the guy have to be to want him to permanently disappear, and if he’s that bad, why would you ever take him back?  Isn’t this kid going to end up in therapy for-ev-er?

    Not to mention as a guy reading these from my perspective the actions are such a betrayal that when the guy just up and forgives her like no problem I am like… WTF?

    Half the time I come away thinking the kid would be better off raised by wolves.

  22. willaful says:

    While on the Secret Baby topic, it’s worth noting how very anti-choice most category romances are.  The idea of abortion is just about inevitably seen as completely repugnant by both hero and heroine and anyone who does have an abortion is severely criticized. Even the morning after pill is depicted as being as unsavory as an abortion, which is a fallacy I would really like to see exposed.  There may be exceptions to this, but I haven’t read any and most of my reading is considerably more contemporary than the original examples.

    Virginity is still very big too, although I would say becoming less so. And the heroine not having sex with anyone but the hero, even after a decade long separation, is still the norm.

  23. Robin says:

    While on the Secret Baby topic, it’s worth noting how very anti-choice most category romances are.  The idea of abortion is just about inevitably seen as completely repugnant by both hero and heroine and anyone who does have an abortion is severely criticized.

    Thinking about the books I’ve read I’d say there’s more an absence than a condemnation of *active* choice. Which may be the same thing or it may not, depending on the book. 

    I think what makes me most uncomfortable about some secret baby stories is the way I am invited to judge the heroine for something that in RL does seem so terribly selfish and as unfair to a child as a father who abdicates his financial and/or emotional responsibilities. 

    And I keep wondering, ‘why the hell is this happening, why is she doing this?’  And then I think of all the stuff that heroes can get away with in the genre and I feel REALLY uncomfortable, because while I can’t help but feel that the heroine is doing this really unfair thing, I also sort of feel sometimes like I’m being set up to judge her—and for what?  For setting in motion the perfect plot to have the functional and happy family I’m not supposed to believe she would have had if she had told the hero when she got pregnant?  So I’m supposed to judge her for following Romance formula? 

    Either way I look at it I can’t get settled, because if the book glosses over the selfishness of her choice I feel cheated, and if the book dwells too much on it, I feel complicit in a genre double standard.

  24. sula says:

    This discussion has been very interesting and intellectually stimulating. 

    Normally the secret baby plot is one that I really dislike, but in real life I do have a good friend who actually lived this scenario.  We were close in college but after a few years she dropped out and began to work full-time.  Then suddenly, she moved back to live with her parents in another state.  As it turned out, she was pregnant – the result of a date rape by a guy she had known and trusted.  The thing was, she blamed herself for what happened and didn’t identify what happened to her as rape until quite a ways into the pregnancy.  By that time she had cleared out of town without ever telling the guy about her pregnancy.  When she consulted a lawyer, she was told that if she brought the guy to trial, it would be his word against hers and would be complicated by the fact that she hadn’t gone to anyone immediately after the incident.  In fact, there was some concern that the guy could claim parental rights and try to get some sort of custody.  Needless to say, she didn’t want any kind of contact with the father of her child.  So in essence, I guess she had what might be termed a “secret baby.” 

    The other thing that I totally didn’t get was that she wasn’t eligible for welfare because she refused to identify the father.  I’m hazy on the details (and even in retrospect it doesn’t make sense to me), but I distinctly remember that she wasn’t able to get much financial assistance because of some documentation complications.  Which made the whole thing seem even more cruelly unjust.  She’s a strong woman though and if anyone deserves a real-life HEA, it would be her.

  25. Lorelie says:

    If it’s for any other reason then it’s selfish.

    Only secret baby story I liked was one where the heroine tried to contact the hero but the only way she had to contact him was through his mother.  And of course grannie was teh ebil, didn’t tell the hero and even lied to the heroine about what he supposedly said.  I wish I remembered more about it, other than I think it might have been a western, but that was the only thing that stuck out ‘cause it was awesome in how different it was.

    I just read a book where a two and a half year old was chatting in sentences and there was no mention of nappies, and she slept in a bed, rather than a cot.

    I’m sure it has to be hard to write a middle of the road child who everyone can identify with.  If I were to write my son into a story (at 2.5 years old) he’d match two out of three of those points.  Except at that point he could pretty much only say “mama” and “dada” still.  Which would leave readers wondering why this child couldn’t freaking talk yet.  So unless a kid’s waxing philosophical, I tend to give more leeway.

    Needless to say, she didn’t want any kind of contact with the father of her child.  So in essence, I guess she had what might be termed a “secret baby.”

    I think that’s kind of the previous poster’s points.  If there’s legitimate reasons to not contact the father, then there’s myriad reasons why that guy would not be romance hero material.

  26. Robin says:

    When she consulted a lawyer, she was told that if she brought the guy to trial, it would be his word against hers and would be complicated by the fact that she hadn’t gone to anyone immediately after the incident.  In fact, there was some concern that the guy could claim parental rights and try to get some sort of custody.  Needless to say, she didn’t want any kind of contact with the father of her child.  So in essence, I guess she had what might be termed a “secret baby.”

    What she had was a horrendous experience and obviously the strength to do what she needed to do for herself and her child.

    Instead of the tear I’d like to go on about the state of our rape laws (and even perceptions about women who bring the charge) and what they say about gender equality, instead I’ll just say that I hope your friend gets a happy ending with a guy who hasn’t committed date rape and doesn’t need Romance novel rehabilitation techniques to be a loving and supportive partner and father.

    And in terms of Romance novel secret babies, I am also now thinking that perhaps those plots fetishize biological parenthood in addition to the reunion fantasy.

  27. Chrissy says:

    The thing that annoys me about secret baby plotting is not so much the improbability as the forgiveness we so readily give (or are encouraged to give) both bad parents.

    Also very few writers do younger characters well.  The rare occasions are such a joy—secondary characters done well will win me every time.  But most of the time, as noted, the chidlren are written as if the writer has absolutely no concept of childhood development.  What’s MORE surprising is how often said writer’s profile indicates she/he is a parent.

    Anyway, back to the forgiveness thing… I would not want any man who needed to be “won over” anywhere near my child.  I would not want any child to be raised by a woman who would deliberately isolate him or her from his or her father.

    Certainly there are notable exceptions, but it’s interesting how often we see blatant manipulation and bargaining with a child in romance.  I grew up during the 70’s (born in 65) and it was the first time divorce really felt epidemic.  Maybe it’s an era thing… so many of my friends of divorced parents viewed/treated manipulation and being used by parents as inevitable and “normal.”

    I can recall SO MANY conversations with friends in high school about mother’s digging for info on dad’s girlfriend… visitation being denied to punish a spouse… kids being used as tools to hurt or blackmail the other spouse.

  28. Thought you might like to know that one of the authors of the books mentioned in Bindel’s article replied today:
    http://books.guardian.co.uk/departments/generalfiction/story/0,,2225914,00.html#article_continue

    Go Louise!

  29. Ehren says:

    oppressed my ass. Guys my age and younger are growing up pansies. It’s because they’re all afraid of being called hate mongers or whatever for chatting up a woman. It’s ridiculous!

    Apparently this idiot hasn’t been in touch with the cave woman inside her head since… ever. I look for men that are likely to at least have the strength of will to keep me from dominating them all the way, because my mom was that way and I don’t want to be a bully myself. That and the guy isn’t afraid of a woman who has been called a number of names like “Amazon”, “Viking” and “Valkyrie”. >.>;;

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