I ask myself frequently why I like romance so much. Even after running this site for more than five years, I still ask myself what has me enthralled with romance. And it’s a topic we’ve visited before – Candy wrote about genre constraints back in 2008 and asked why romance’s genre constraints are met with such derision when other genres have similar defining constructs.
There is an intricate combination of factors that encourage my return to more romance after I finish reading a novel. Something about the space within those constraints keeps me coming back again and again. What is it about the happy ending, the tension of courtship, the tension in general that I admire? Jane wrote recently at Dear Author (and I cannot find the specific link, dang it) that there is a certain freedom in reading romance, knowing that no matter how painful the anguish, it is going to be ok in the end. I totally agree with the idea that each novel in the romance genre represents a safe space for readers to enjoy without apprehension. To echo Lisa Kleypas’ statements from the Bosoms, there are few things more reassuring than having the hero say, from your happiness to your orgasm, he’s on it.
But it’s more than the safe space and assurance of the happy ending, and the female autonomy and self actualization that I adore, but until I was driving and pondering recently I didn’t have the language to describe what it is that hooks me.
On the website “It made my day,” (which is awesome) someone wrote recently about being told that for health reasons she needed to quit her job – giving her a reason to quit that felt like sweet relief. My first thought was, “Why not look for another job merely because that one was making you sick and unhappy?” But, holy smoke, I could totally relate to the sweet, savage relief of having the unpleasant choice and the responsibility for making that choice removed entirely by external directions from an external authority. It is comforting in a scary situation when facing a terrifying change to give someone else the responsibility for your making a choice that will make you happy – and others unhappy. I think this is due in part to the fact that women, to speak in huge generalization, are not encouraged to choose things that make themselves happy that might otherwise affect others. While everyone else on the plane is putting their own masks on first then assisting others, women are encouraged in a million subtle ways to hold their breath until everyone else is breathing free, THEN put on their own masks (if they’re conscious at that point).
Choosing everyone else first, or placing one’s desires on the side line is not what romance is about. It’s not about shirking choices and being a coward. Reading a book where everything comes easily to the heroine or hero is very frustrating, but so is a book where the hero or heroine don’t actually do anything to acquire what it is that they desire.
But reading a good romance does include certainty, and as a corollary, it includes an absence of regrets as well. It means never doubting that the hero and heroine are meant to be together, believing that they will not ever doubt their choice in one another. Romance means reading in a space where, in that world, whatever world it is for that time with those people, the most important choices are the perfect choices, and they will all work out for the best. Romance means never doubting or second guessing one’s choices at the end. WOW. That is some liberating genre constraint right there.
A hero at the end of a romance leaves no doubt that this is the partner for him. A heroine never looks at the hero and thinks, “I wonder what my life would be like if I’d done something different. I wonder if I’m with the wrong guy.” Romance means never doubting the big life choices – which is a bit of a twist on self actualization. The hero and heroine end up exactly where and with the person they ought to be with.
That’s the other element of romance that continually fascinates me: the role of fate and predestination that appears in romances. From the wang as divining rod to the hardening nipples that point her in the direction of The Perfect Guy, there are always signs of some vague external influence leading the protagonists together. It’s not just attraction, it’s Attraction. Like North-Pole magetized nipples pointing the direction of the uncontrollable hard-on. And it doesn’t have to be nipples, either. It could be the sense that after one meeting she’s known him all her life, or an indescribable feeling that this woman is somehow different. There is a thread of predetermination that appears frequently, in various forms. I remain fascinated by the forms that “a little destiny” appears in different romances, and the way that choices made are never doubted. And so I keep going back for more.
What keeps you returning to romance? Do you think there’s a regular appearance of fate in romances or do you think I’m out of my gourd? Does the certainty ever bore you or do you like the safe space of happiness? Have you ever had a really difficult choice removed by external factors – and was it a relief? Would that make a good romance novel (I’m sure it’s been written already)?
All through my teenage years and all through my twenties, I have avoided romance novels like the plague. The women I knew of who read them seemed undisciplined dreamers to me. I was a tomboy and I rejected femininity as much as I could and what’s more feminine than a romance novel? I wanted to be seen as intelligent and strong with none of the over-sentimentality. Furthermore, I didn’t really believe in love and I’m still skeptical about it and cynical about it, so a romance was more than I could even dare to dream.
However, after being pursued by my now husband and him chiseling away at my hard heart and after my mom-in-law gave me Captivating to read during our honeymoon, something very mysterious changed in my world view. Captivating argues that the question for all women is am I captivating? Am I worth engaging? pursuing? rescuing? being with? It admits, we want to be strong, intelligent, and play an irreplaceable role in an adventure romance and most romance novels cover all those bases. The woman is valued as “the one” and is valued fully as a person in all aspects. She is not on the sidelines while all the action happens. She is not a rebound, a booty call, a prospect, a one-time thing, a waiting for something better girlfriend and she is never compared to other women in how she should measure up. She is loved. She is loved and her hero will overcome anything to be with her. In the masculine form (mainstream action films) we see the hero who is “the one” who is the best warrior and the cleverest and bravest and he always gets the girl because he just has what it takes and he has no equal. In a romance, the heroine is captivating (not physically alone) and she has no competition in her hero’s heart.
So now, my reason for liking romance novels other than the HEA, is that it celebrates the drama and struggle of a love that is worth having and worth fighting for.
I agree with JennKnight. I’m a recently graduated law student currently studying for the bar. There is nothing that makes me feel better after a long day of staring at UCC Code provisions etc. than a romance novel. I love to read all kinds of books, but romance novels take me to a happy place where everything else I am doing fades out and for three hours, its me, Lord X and Lady Y and their HEA. I have turned many of the other girls in the law school onto romance novels as an outlet, and now we get together every so often and trade books – it’s great!
You know, I was just thinking yesterday about why I like romance novels. It’s because they are like other novels with all the boring bits taken out. I care about people and relationships. Those are the bits I read for in any book.
In the last couple of years I have been suffering with depression and my (previously more varied) reading diet has narrowed sharply, so that I basically only read romance at the moment. This is in large part because of the guaranteed HEA and the fantasies of Being Understood and Being Looked After.
Romance novels are a sure thing. Life is not.
I read romances because A/real life is chaos and, as most modern/contemporary literature/film/theatre/TV points out, miserable endings are “real” (geez, what a downer!). But romances have a happy ending that is earned. B/romances put women front and center, usually doing something to achieve said happy ending, in other words, earning it. C/ heroes fuck up, like in real life, but they keep working at winning/figuring out/convincing the heroine (in a non-stalker, non-creepy way) that they are really reliable, present, interested, and able to learn new tricks. D/ sex, even (especially!) literate sex is a great thing. E/ there is little to no football/NASCAR/political wrangling/war-mongering/oil spills and environmental disasters/belittling of women in romances… unlike everyday life. In terms of destiny, I agree that it is a strong point in romances, but tie that back to as early as 17th century literature, where heroes and heroines were linked by the initial attraction between them: whether it was wit/language, eyes/souls, or bodies/sex. This is a huge theme in drama and literature of the time, the major way one recognized one’s soul mate and made a happy match… or not. Shakespeare, Moliere, Restoration playwrights are filled with this. So is Austen, the Bronte sisters, Dickens, etc. In our 10th century brilliance, we discounted that sort of intuition (because it wasn’t masculine…). And here we are.
Sorry—20th century, not 10th…. The Vikings were obviously all into emotional intuitiveness. See Kirk Douglas, Tony Curtis and Janet Leigh for same… talk about menage a trois!
HA! I wrote an essay for an English course I took, comparing Treasure Island to Anne of Green Gables. One of the critics I came across got all sneery about “Utopian Fantasies”, which he considered Anne to be.
In a Utopian fantasy, things start off pretty good, and only get better. What, the critic wondered, was the point of reading a story where there’s no action?
The gist of my essay was that Jim Hawkins had to run away from home, be kidnapped by pirates, kill somebody, find buried treasure, and then come back home to realize that home is actually an awfully nice place to be. He needed drama to learn anything.
Anne Shirley, however, already KNOWS that home is pretty nice, and that having a good relationship with friends and family, and a secure home, is really what people want. She didn’t have to recount the misery of her pre-Green Gables life to appreciate where she landed.
I love this post. Sarah, you nailed it. It’s all about certainty, and not always doubting that you made the right choice. About being understood. About somebody knowing your freaks and foibles and loving you anyway.
I was overjoyed this week to discover that my geeky, chubby workmate’s fiance is totally hot! That, right there, is what Romance is all about.
How come I never see blog posts from Candy anymore?
I love Romance because of the guaranteed HEA, that is why I get so frustrated when the characters are so poorly drawn in the story that you can’t believe the HEA. Life is uncertain, read Romance because it isn’t.
@ Ess_Bee
I’ve been wondering the same thing
Something else is that I think writing a convincing happy ending is actually harder than throwing in cheap tragedy to make a story “deep”. Which is perhaps why love in so many “great works of literature” is maybe one or two scenes of mutual happiness, and then uninterrupted misery for the protagonists, usually ending in death. It’s the notion that happiness is boring, and only angst and edgy tragedy is worthwhile as drama.
Anyone can write about someone being broken or destroyed, but what I find more interesting in every genre are stories where characters improve and grow.
Romance novels bring forth a feel good factor something that most of us want to experience. A feeling of well-being. As a reader we all know that the ending is going to be good. That the lovers are going to eventually unite. And once that unification happens there is a feeling of completeness.. does not last long though.. which is why you need to pick up another one 🙂
I miss Candy’s posts. Whatever happened to her?
Romance keeps drawing me back because it’s all about the emotions and the fun of being along for the ride. Romances don’t demand deep thought or cynicism (not that good ones can’t inspire both, of course, and there are exceptions.)
I’m not in it for the HEA. In fact, it’s just the opposite—I often feel a little let down when an otherwise wonderful story ends with a trite, blissful ending that ties all the ends up in a pretty bow. Am I alone in finding realistic, bittersweet endings more romantic?
There are obviously many reasons that I read romance. Some of it is because I know the ending, and I can just enjoy the story. Some of it is that there is (usually) sex, and (hopefully) it is enjoyed by everyone involved. Some of it is the joy in hearing a familiar plot played out again, hopefully with little twists. And yeah, it’s (usually) written for women and about women. That’s actually a big one!
But mostly, I read romance because it shows our flaws don’t define us, and everyone deserves love. You don’t have to be perfect. Sappy, but true. We all want acceptance and, for women, social acceptance is hard to get. It’s not just understanding or tolerance, but an enthusiastic embrace of who and what we are. Even when we’re not perfect.
In a society that says to women, “Smile, be skinny and have big boobs, then you can get any guy you want,” romance novels stand out. They say, “Be smart, genuine, caring, loyal and honest, and you’ll end up finding romance and appreciation. Granted, it doesn’t hurt if you have big boobs and a bodice to rip occasionally.” Seriously, women with character rather than assets. What a concept.