Smart Bitches, Trashy Books

Oh Lord help me from pointing this out on a romance blog, but while I can’t fault romance feminists getting up in arms about discrimination against women—how valid are they really when they tolerate marked discrimination against an entire race within the genre?

I just blogged this:

Take the RWA for example. We are going to shell out our money and go to their big award ceremony that omits one of the largest distinct romance sub-genres there is–AA romance? We might not want to be a sub-genre, our content is admittedly not different, but we ARE treated more as a sub-genre than most other romance sub-genres are. There is no practice of separating out paranormal or historical romance from the other romances for the most part. Indian (native american) romances don’t get shunted to the Native American Studies area. Nobody trolls for Asian-tolerant reviewers to read Asian authored romances. No romance sites or blogs tell Asian authors they have nobody willing to read their Asian-authored romance because it’s by an Asian. Black romance is treated as a sub-genre by almost everybody in romance as a whole, yet black romance authors are ignored in this romance award for excellence.

I mean, really.  Personally, I’m not going to shell out my money to go to the Rita award ceremony nor am I going to shed much tears over the discrimination romance experiences against women (and they do experience it) while they practice discrimination just as readily against blacks.

Sarah (and no, I’m not sucking up, I’d gain nothing in return eh!), you make my day. This here is the only online place I hang out. Reading your article today reminded me why.

The Peoples, please, put these two women in charge of something. Anything!

Thank you guys very very much for the links.  I’m saving the next time I run into a “Harelquin” snub.

Again, while there is some garbage out there (Humper County Vampires?) I still say that most of the best and the brightest write in the Romance Genre’.  Like diamonds being mistaken for broken glass, that is what those books are to me.

Well, I know this is going to be contravertial, but this is my take on it:

To be considered “Literature” something need do something besides providing gratification of the reader’s desires. Romance novels, old school fantasy novels and “genre” fiction (as well as porn) as a whole used to fall into this category. It serves to gratify. One opens a book with expectations and those expectations, be it a happy ending or the solving of a tricky mystery, are met.

This is not a criticism, but that is where I see the line being drawn. This is not to say that all books in genre fiction gratified only the reader. There are books that break the mould and work on a variety of levels. “Lord of the Rings”, for example, which pretty much founded Fantasy as a genre.

A lot of genre fiction is starting to come out of this state. The Fantasy genre as a whole have more novels which are no longer just about a Hero overthrowing a Dark Lord and becoming king. These books, crutially, are stilly being recognised as Fantasy (it’s a bit difficult to disguise, all the magic and all).

However, with Romance, there is a measure of stagnation. Books that venture too far from the accepted conventions of Romance are not recognised as such, possibly quite simply because the defining feature of a love story occurs in other stories as well, but one can speculate about other reasons as well, such as there being a certain measure of stigma to being a Romance. (But is this stigma is more than that of being any other sort of genre writer, before that genre evolved?)

I’m not saying Romance isn’t important; I believe it is very important.

I’m probably going to get into even more trouble now for comparing it to Action films…

What I’m trying to get at is that the Romance genre stagnates. I’m not blaming the writers or the publishers or the readers. But that is why literary interest remains elusive. The simple love story is anything but. There is a desire to keep things the way they are. Defining romance as between a man and a woman, or a reader getting irritated about the lack of a Happy Ending and other such things is partially symptomatic of this.

But that said, the genre is starting to evolve. It is taking steps in new directions. But many of these steps lead to a place that is Not Romance. Such as the lack of a Happy Ending. When George R. R. Martin wrote a book challenging Good and Evil (one of the staples of fantasy fiction), his book isn’t branded as Not Fantasy. It is embraced. Jacqueline Carey reimagined “Lord of the Rings” in a non-morally absolute universe. Again, this challenge is embraced as Fantasy.

I’m not saying that Romance is a simple genre, or that it isn’t Good. But there are deficiancies (Connie Mason, oh God! Lifetime achievement!). I’m just don’t think it’s as simple as a marginalisation of women writers or a dismissing of the importance of love. Jong’s rally of arms is rousing, but it’s too simple.

Romance, I’m tempted to say, doesn’t show a complete portrait of love, warts and all. Unrequited love doesn’t stay unrequited forever. There is a certain rosiness to its view. I’m not suggesting that it must or should change, but it is possibly this deficiency that the genre’s critics come back to. And if the Connie Masons, Karen Kays and Cassie Edwards outnumber the Loretta Chases, the fight may just be a little stacked against us.

I don’t think that romance is depised just because the subject matter is love though.  I think a huge part of the reason is the way that romance novels are presented and marketed.  Quite frankly, it would be very difficult for anyone who hasn’t read romance to take it seriously.  The covers of many many romance books suggest - indeed, promise - that they are full of complete rubbish.

For example, Flowers from the Storm by Laura Kinsale is an amazing book that transcends genre.  The hero has a stroke and spends the novel gradually regaining his speech and comprehension.  The way Kinsale shows this is masterly.  Some of the passages in that novel just awe me.  And what does the cover show?  A half naked man with a mullet holding a bunch of flowers.  It’s just so very very bad!  If that book had been printed by a different publisher and marketed in a different way, maybe it would be appreciated by a lot more people.  Ok, maybe it would have to lose the HEA to win a literary fiction prize, but at least it might be read by a wider audience.  I read it because it was widely praised in romance websites.  I would NEVER have picked it up based on the cover.

My local bookshop has a small area dedicated to romance.  Frankly, I am embarrassed to browse there.  The covers are just a shrine to mantitty.  And whilst there is undoubtedly some truly purple prose there, there is also some very good writing. That is why websites like this are so very important to romance readers.  They help readers to find the good authors and avoid the poor ones.

When I think of those romance shelves at my local bookshop, I can only wonder why someone who had never read romance want to dip their toe in the water.  It looks so utterly uninviting. 

It may not be fair to judge a book by its cover but I for one think that at times it is entirely understandable.

Monica,

The “they” who practice discrimination is not the same “they” that experiences discrimination.  Keep talking about it, and keep educating people about the problems and what they can do to change things.  But don’t assume that we’re all out to get you.

We aren’t.

Just to add, that I don’t believe that Romance isn’t worthy of critical study. I was on the verge of a dissertation on the topic before I decided instead on something in Old Norse. I’m not trying to argue that Romance is devoid of literary merit, but one can’t dispute that certain swathes of it is at least dubious on that front.

But I do think one would study it in a very different way than classical Texts. There is a certain facelessness to genre fiction that makes the study of individual books more difficult. Still, there is a lot one can learn from them, through analysis. Their proliferation and the recurring themes (daddy issues, viriginity, secret babies…) are fascinating and telling of our culture. To know a people by their dreams, perhaps.

Romance matters.

But that doesn’t make what it isn’t.

(On the sidenote, yes, I do believe Romance is akin to porn, in that they gratify similar needs in women that porn does in men, only that the needs in women are differet. Man wants sex, quite simply and for women there needs be emotional fulfilment. This is not a criticism of Romance, merely an observation, since I’ll be the first to argue that porn matters and deserves study on a similar front.)

Romance gratifies, yes. In that it is “fluff”, but those needs are important and how they are gratified equally so… It is a good thing, but crutially, it is still different.

Am I making sense here or have I just offended everyone?

Joanna,
You’re right.

I think a lot of problems in perception would change if they just changed the damn covers!  I mean, yes, there some great reads out there, but the covers make you want to ductape the front so you can read in public.

The Woman Scorned in Old Norse Literature, to be exact. Brynhildr and Guðrún Ósvífursdóttir mostly. The women who got dumped by the Hero and got even, essentially. So not that far.

I think a huge part of the reason is the way that romance novels are presented and marketed.  Quite frankly, it would be very difficult for anyone who hasn’t read romance to take it seriously.  The covers of many many romance books suggest - indeed, promise - that they are full of complete rubbish.

The marketing is very much part of the genre definition. Books that are borderline Romance (say, Crossfire, which its author claims to be anything but) often get new completely un-Romance-y covers and get reshelved in Horror or Fiction or Fantasy. To strike an parallel with Fantasy, there used to strict cover requirements of having dragons on covers even if there are scarce in the book which are now more relaxed with evolution of the genre.

Problem is for everyone the silly covers drives away, there is someone who is attracted by them.

On the sidenote: Squeeeee! My dissertation topic gets SmartBitch approval!

The romance genre novel that transcends the genre has yet to be written. I’m waiting. I’ve been waiting a very long time. Maybe it has been written, and has been stashed in African American literature. Maybe it’s got a deplorable cover. I just know I haven’t been able to find it. The science fiction genre threw away its conventions a long time ago. Romance genre has not, and maybe never will. For the most part readers and writers like it the way it is. It’s like Brittney Spears complaining that her (lightweight but popular) music don’t get no respect. Doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a song for the ages in her somewhere, doesn’t mean she hasn’t given a lot of people a lot of pleasure with her music. But is it sexist or anti-feminist to not have much respect for her music? When I find the great romance genre novel, and it’s being ignored purely because it’s a genre romance novel, I’ll be the first one up on my feminist soapbox.

Damn, bookworm said it all more succinctly than me.

Monica, it seems to me that if the RWA had had an AA romance category, that could have been considered a form of segregation and/or an acceptance of segregation on the basis of race. But I would be interested to know how many AA authors submitted romances to be considered for the RITA. If there weren’t many then maybe this is something the RWA needs to think about. They need to ask themselves why AA romance authors might feel excluded from the organisation and/or might not bother to enter the contest. If the authors did enter their novels but there was a pattern of them being given low marks, then RWA might want to consider why this might be and what they can do to ensure that AA romances are marked fairly and will be perceived by AA romance authors to be marked fairly.

Romance, I’m tempted to say, doesn’t show a complete portrait of love, warts and all. Unrequited love doesn’t stay unrequited forever. There is a certain rosiness to its view.

No novel or genre shows a ‘complete portrait’ of life. Fiction isn’t reality, and authors always choose which parts of the ‘complete portrait’ they will include in their novels. That said, I think that romances do show different types of love, sometimes through the backstory of the protagonists and sometimes through the experiences of secondary characters.

I do think one would study it in a very different way than classical Texts. There is a certain facelessness to genre fiction that makes the study of individual books more difficult.

While it’s certainly true that one can approach the study of romance through its ‘recurring themes (daddy issues, viriginity, secret babies…)’, the diversity of the genre, and the speed at which it changes, means that generalisations about it are usually going to be precisely that and will miss many of the counter-examples and the nuances present in many romances.

My personal experience is that it’s not particularly difficult to find individual romance novels which repay closer study of their imagery, symbolism, social commentary etc.

I do believe Romance is akin to porn, in that they gratify similar needs in women that porn does in men, only that the needs in women are differet. Man wants sex, quite simply and for women there needs be emotional fulfilment.

I blogged about this topic a while ago and I’d be interested to know what ‘need’ you think romance satisfies for women. It seems to me that different readers look for very different things in the romances they read. It also depends how you define ‘porn’.

The romance genre novel that transcends the genre has yet to be written. [...] The science fiction genre threw away its conventions a long time ago. Romance genre has not, and maybe never will.

What are your criteria for determining what constitutes a ‘great’ novel and which conventions would you like to see thrown away?

Would Jane Austen, with her happy endings and central love story meet your criteria?

I think you’re making some good points, jetso.  There is some quality writing going on in Romance novels, but as long as we define a romance novel as a novel about two people working out their issues/falling in love and arriving at some kind of ending where we believe they’ll live contentedly, if not happily ever after, we’ve limited what the genre can do.

And let me just add for the record that I don’t believe there’s anything wrong with that definition.  I want a romance novel to be about romantic relationships and have a HEA/reasonable expectations ending.  If it doesn’t, it’s not a romance novel.  It’s women’s lit or gay lit or a mystery or something else. 

There is nothing wrong with saying we read and write damnfine books that may not make it into the literature canon because of their narrow structure.

Or at least, that’s my opinion.

No novel or genre shows a ‘complete portrait’ of life. Fiction isn’t reality, and authors always choose which parts of the ‘complete portrait’ they will include in their novels.

True. But Romance novels are very selective, possibly too selective in the genre box, which is what I’m trying to argue.

When I say “needs”, I admit I’m being very vague. I’m not saying romance novels are porn for women in that they contain sex, therefore titalation/arousal and therefore this is bad. I’m not arguing that romance novels are softcore porn for women.

I see porn as something that gratifies sexual desire in men, loosely speaking. Romance novels gratifies emotional desire in women, loosely speaking. This emotional desire can be seen as corresponding to the sexual desire, loosely speaking. Men and women generally speaking. And I don’t see this as a condemnation.

I know I’m perpetuating the “women like emotions and fluffliness” stereotype (and that “men want mindless sex”) in suggesting this. I’m not suggesting that women read this exclusively or that all women want “emotion and fluffliness” in excessive amounts. The crutial point is that men and women don’t only these things. But I do feel that the stereotype isn’t completely foundless.

My personal experience is that it’s not particularly difficult to find individual romance novels which repay closer study of their imagery, symbolism, social commentary etc.

As bookworm says, I’m still looking for the One.

Would Jane Austen, with her happy endings and central love story meet your criteria?

I adore Jane Austen. I’ve also done excessive amounts of my degree on her. And the Brontes for that matter.

And yes, they do transcend their age. Austen shows love (rather, marriage, some could argue), warts and all. Though I would argue that she is most satifying when she is ambiguous. The problematic ideal of Mansfield Park and the vivacious Mary Crawford is far more fascinating than the rather inspid Fanny Price.

But they aren’t “Romance Novels”. In that, they were not written inside the genre. Therefore they do not transcend the genre; they aren’t in it. One can argue they founded the genre, and that the genre comes from immitators that see only the neat love story and the happily ever after and don’t see the ambiguities and the complexities the same way Tolkien founded Fantasy and his immitators saw only the trappings (elves and swords and lost kingdoms) but not the depth of his world.

I think you’re making some good points, jetso.  There is some quality writing going on in Romance novels, but as long as we define a romance novel as a novel about two people working out their issues/falling in love and arriving at some kind of ending where we believe they’ll live contentedly, if not happily ever after, we’ve limited what the genre can do.

Indeed, but the genre (publishers? authors? readers?) does not see it that way. There are many books with two people working out their issues, calling in love and arrivng at a not unhappy ending which are brilliant. Jacqueline Carey’s Kushiel series is wonderful in this, but whilst Fantasy can accept it with open arms, (as one can argue it lies equally in both) Romance can’t.

When I criticise the Genre, it is that construct made by publishers with their covers, authors with their conforming, readers with their mental categorising, bookshops with their shelving. I don’t doubt that it is artificial and rather problematic in that it excludes much. The “braindrain” effect, if you will. The definition of the genre is more complicated than a relationship and a reasonably happy ending. And these stated or unstated rules further the stagnation.

I have read excellent examples of Romance, but something that transcends it but is still accepted as within the genre, I have yet to find.

Can someone explain ‘transends the genre’?

I fear that the book that does gets that laud will be a horrible read…..but a ‘great’ book.

Never the twain shall meet I fear.

I have read excellent examples of Romance, but something that transcends it but is still accepted as within the genre, I have yet to find.

What do you mean by “transcend the genre”?  If you are referring to the ability to mainstream fully, then I agree with you.  If you mean that you haven’t read a Romance that subverts its own conventions, then I don’t agree.  Judith Ivory’s Black Silk and Patricia Gaffney’s To Have and To Hold are two examples that come to mind of Romance novels that IMO transcend the generic boundaries of genre Romance.

As to the idea that the central love story “limits” the genre, I don’t agree, either (I actually think it may have been Darlene who made this point originally).  I think it’s all the other “rules”—rules of the *industry* not the genre—that limit Romance.  And sheer lack of imagination, frankly.  And fear that Romance readers won’t accept certain things.  That is, the informal *moralities* within the publishing/writing aspect of the genre that circumscribe the broader generic boundaries.

As for Erica Jong’s argument, I’ve been pondering it since Sarah linked to it on her journal, and while I like it a whole lot better than Jacquelyn Mitchard’s IMO borderline mysoginist (with hints of xenophibic hysteria) rant on Paper Cuts, I find so many things unsettled in these approaches that rely purely on gender to explain trends that may themselves not be well-represented to begin with.

Like, what do you do with some comments in the Romance community that lit fic is all about depression and death and therefore not meaningful?

What do you do with the fact that authors like Joyce Carol Oates (whom I adore) are dissed sometimes by both male and FEMALE critics for being too consumed by seemingly nihilistic episodes of identity-erasing violence?

Or with the idea that it’s not just lit fic crits who disdain Romance, but mainstream women who embrace romantic comedies in films without question?  Internalization of patriarchal assumptions or disgust of clinch covers, hot pink store displays, and Mr. Romance?  Because the one thing I love about Romance is its woman-centered aspects, but there was no way in hell I could begin to see that or take it seriously before someone steered me carefully into the genre, past all the mantitty to the stand out books. 

I like the Jong talks about “prejudice,” because I think that’s really the right word, and I think it applies not just to women’s fiction, but to fiction in general—and to readers in general.  Jong resorts to it in her assertion that there are certain “man” subjects (where would that put Golden’s Memoirs of a Geisha) and “women” subjects.

I’m not averse to the idea that gender assumptions play a role in all this—perhaps even a substantial role.  But what I’m not so sure of is whether it’s the assumptions about gender or assumptions ABOUT those assumptions that are more problematic.  In other words, how much of this is due to the vestiges of patriarchy, and how much is due to certain assumptions about patriarchy?

>>Jacqueline Carey’s Kushiel series is wonderful in this, but whilst
Fantasy can accept it with open arms, (as one can argue it lies equally in
both) Romance can’t.<

<

Now I

am going to disagree with you.[g]

The reason Kushiel is fantasy, not romance, is that it’s really about Phaedre’s journey, not Phaedre and Joselin’s (sp?) love story.  That makes it a classic “hero’s journey” fantasy as opposed to a romance novel, no matter how strong the romance element is. 

The central story is not the love story, but the story of one woman’s growth and development, finding love along the way.

Laura: Entire books have been written about what constitutes a great novel. Having sifted this through my mind for many years I think I can say that what constitues a great novel is one that stands the test of time, though even that could be argued on a book by book basis. Jane Austen, for me, would absolutely meet my criteria, though as has been pointed out she is not actually “of” the genre - more like its midwife. My favorite romance authors are Jennifer Crusie and Loretta Chase - I love and enjoy their work. But for the ages? I don’t think so. And as Darlene noted earlier many writers (and their readers) are entirely happy to be excluded from the canon. As for throwing out the conventions, well, that’s another huge question. I’ve certainly got plenty of pet peeves. I like to see (and do see) the conventions trampled on, turned upside down, inside out, etc. Tricky to pull off, though, without throwing the baby out with the bathwater.i.e. highly unconventional, but still recognisable as a romance genre novel.

Jetso: Although I’m still looking for “The One” there are more complex romance novels out there, complete with “imagery, symbolism, social commentary”. But they’re not the norm.

Monica: What is the best African American romance novel you’ve ever read? This sub-genre you describe - is it for AA writers only, or any romance with AA characters?

I did read Kushiel as profoundly romantic, though I can see your point and am willing to stand corrected on the Kushiel series. Though I’d remark on the haziness there as to a certain extent one can argue that for many of Austen’s novels, since the heroines take the spotlight and it is about their growth rather than the hero’s.

The very term “genre fiction” gives me a rash. As though when a book is about *something*, it’s a genre. So is literary fiction about nothing? It reminds me of the year I tried to apply for a grant through the Canada Council for the Arts and was turned down because I wrote scifi and erotic romance…in the (gasp) SAME BOOKS. I was politely (fuck, not even politely, she just didn’t use any curse words but was rude as hell) told me that writing grants went to authors whose works had more literary merit than “genre fiction”. Yes. She wrote that. I kept the e-mail—it’s always nice to have a goal in life. Mine is to one day rule the world and when I do…

Mwa. Ha. Ha.

Wasn’t it Chesterton who said literature is a luxury; fiction a necessity?

Or something like that.

“...as long as we define a romance novel as a novel about two people working out their issues/falling in love and arriving at some kind of ending where we believe they’ll live contentedly, if not happily ever after, we’ve limited what the genre can do.”

I don’t find two rules to be all that restrictive. I think there are infinite possibilities to built around “essential love story” and “HEA,” and I think the subgenres (contemporary, historical, inspirational, paranormal, suspense, and any combination thereof and any I’ve overlooked) attempt to explore those possibilities.

If you do away with the two things that define the heart of the genre (love and at least “hopefully” ever after, as Lynn Viehl puts it), it’s no longer Romance, and I don’t think killing the genre is the way to achieve respectability with its critics.

If the feeling is that those two rules oversimplify what Romance is, find the General Rules of Fiction Writing and slap them on the end of the list. I consider the GRoFW to be a given in any genre—it’s basic conventions such as The Big Two that create a genre, though.

I don’t write fluff. I don’t write softcore porn for women. Yes, I do find both these terms offensive, to my work, and when used in a generalization of the genre.

By definition a book that `transcends’ the genre would no longer be IN the genre.

IMO, there are many Romance novels that do show a complete portrait of love. Others do a charcoal sketch, or a light pastel. And some are poorly drawn with Crayolas.

Romance is a genre. A genre is defined as a composition characterized by a particular style, form or content. The form of the Romance genre is a love story, usually focused on two characters, that ends happily.

It is what it is. Execution, and certainly quality, may vary, depending on the author’s talent or vision. Reader reception may vary, depending on tastes, expectations and mood. But the form is the form. The genre is the genre.

I LUB YOU NORA!

(What she said)

BTW, when I was in CVS on Tuesday I counted 12 of your books titles!  TWELVE of the suckers—- OK, 13 if you include JD Robb (but I’m superstitious)

Kerry—I’m not taking exception to these “rules” (and there’s still debate on whether there are rules at all), but pointing to them and saying “This is how we know it’s a Romance!”

That’s what I like about the genre.  When I read a romance novel, I know it’s going to have a satisfying conclusion where the protagonists will be together.  That’s what I want.  But what I want even more than that is to be entertained along the journey—be made to feel the characters’ hopes and fears as they try to get to that HEA.  That’s what separates a good or great romance, like Flowers From The Storm, from one that’s forgettable as soon as you close the cover.

But FFTS is still a genre romance novel, and I like that too, that I can point to this novel and say to non-romance readers, “Don’t be afraid to try something different.  Read this book.” I’m passionate about quality writing.  I’m not so passionate about defending the genre against the sneers of the ignorant.

I’ve oft likened Romance to the dessert of the literary world.

While we all say you need to eat your veges, or read your classics,
dessert or romance will usually be the best part of the meal.  What you would want if you’re in need of comfort.  The wonderful romance you tell friends about being like that wonderful bread pudding you take to a pot luck.  Or the Breyer’s you eat when you’ve been dumped ;)

I have needs when I buy a book…..  I look for entertainment, comfort, laughs, help and most of all, someone who knows humans.  Especially humans like me—- Female, battered by time and circumstance,  more unloved in this life than loved, not sure of what makes a relationship sane, much less good.  Not sure, but still hopefull.  Still wanting to fill that aching gap.  So most of all, I want hope. 

Someone who speaks in a language that I understand.  Not above me, nor below me, but to me.  And understands why I still hope. 

I’m not looking for an ivory tower definition of great literature.  I don’t want someone’s political agenda or current trends.  I look for what is necessary, what is going to do me the most good, what will provide the most benefit.  And like most of the songs out there, it seems love, though quite common, isn’t easy.  So the songs can be mirrors and the books can be a help.

As I understand it, most ‘fiction’ is about the story, while romance is about the characters.  And romance goes a step beyond, to the thoughts, feelings, reasons and interactions of people.  It can be a window into another time, place and most of all, another person.  Which in it’s own way, can be a window into ourselves. 

Sometimes the greatest gift an author can give is the encouragement that things can work out, that relationships are worth the effort.  Sometimes it’s the simplest paragraph were someone just stops and thinks and you find yourself jolted—- because it’s something you need to do in your own life.

Sometimes you see yourself and omigod!  They can work things out with another person.  They can survive.  They can be loved and love in return.  Of all the things to be maligned, why is it the most fundemental desire is considered the tritest?

Don’t we all want a HEA? 

I often wonder if this isn’t like a case of the Emperor’s New Clothes, where people are being told one thing while they’re seeing another.  To me, the sales receipts, the forums such as this, the smart women I see writing and reading these books just tells me that like many things, what is real ain’t always what we’re being told.

There is nothing wrong with saying we read and write damnfine books that may not make it into the literature canon because of their narrow structure.

But (a) I don’t think the ‘central love story’ and ‘optimistic ending’ requirements are really that restrictive and (b) some novels with both those things are already in the literary canon. Which brings us to

I think I can say that what constitues a great novel is one that stands the test of time, though even that could be argued on a book by book basis. Jane Austen, for me, would absolutely meet my criteria [...]. My favorite romance authors are Jennifer Crusie and Loretta Chase - I love and enjoy their work. But for the ages? I don’t think so.

If the criteria is that something stands the test of time then of course we can’t yet know if any romance novels will do so. What makes Crusie, for example, less interesting from a literary point of view than Austen? How much of your response to, and appreciation of, Austen is shaped by knowing that she’s in the canon? How much of your response to Crusie is shaped by knowing that her novels are ‘romance’? Crusie’s had some pretty good covers, but Chase’s Lord of Scoundrels which is often mentioned as one of the great modern romances has a clinch cover. How does that shape your perception of the novel? In other words, are these novels being judged fairly on just their own merits, or are other factors coming into play?

Austen’s novels, since the heroines take the spotlight and it is about their growth rather than the hero’s.

Isn’t Pride and Prejudice as much about Darcy’s change and growth as about Elizabeth’s? And what about Captain Wentworth - he has to change a lot more than Anne does.

By definition a book that `transcends’ the genre would no longer be IN the genre.

Now I’ve got the impression that some people are looking for a romance novel which has suddenly grown wings and flown out of the cage of genre fiction and into the dizzy heights of literary fiction. I don’t see why a novel can’t be both a romance and great literature.

Laura, you study this question at a professional level.  Do you think we in the industry restrict ourselves if we don’t work to try to convince people we’re writing something more than genre literature?

I’m not being sarcastic in asking that—I really want to know. The downside to communicating like this is you can’t see my serious and thoughtful expression while I’m typing.[g]

~I don’t see why a novel can’t be both a romance and great literature.~

Neither do I. And thanks for continuing to be a voice for the genre.

Najida, I loved your post. I thought it was beautifully expressed.

Do you think we in the industry restrict ourselves if we don’t work to try to convince people we’re writing something more than genre literature?

If by that you’re asking whether authors of romance novels should try to change the image of the genre, so that romance as a genre is not automatically assumed to be ‘fluff’ and ‘porn for women’, then my answer is that I think that’s something worth doing, but I suspect that not all authors have the time/inclination/ability to make a difference, so it may not be a task that every romance author wants to engage in.

I think authors would be limiting themselves if they internalised the view that the genre is nothing more than ‘fluff’ and ‘porn for women’. Some authors may make an informed decision to produce ‘fluff’ or ‘porn for women’, but I hope they would do so in the knowledge that romances can be written so that they are thought-provoking as well as fun, highly crafted as well as emotionally stimulating.

“Someone who speaks in a language that I understand.  Not above me, nor below me, but to me.  And understands why I still hope”

Najida, people like you remind me why I visit SBTB on a regular basis. Man, what an eloquent comment.

Najida, your comment was beautiful.  And Laura, you answered my question.  Thanks!

~but I suspect that not all authors have the time/inclination/ability to make a difference, so it may not be a task that every romance author wants to engage in.~

Agreed.

I’ve spend a lot of time and energy on this very thing over the years. In interview after interview after interview, in talks to readers and writers, in comments on sites and blogs. You get tired. You get tired because the same business crops up again and again and again. The same prejudices, the same pinches and outright slaps, year after year, after year.

Next week I’m giving the luncheon speech to the librarian’s at RWA. I’m talking about what so many outside, and yes, inside the genre often claim doesn’t exist in Romance. The diversity of the stories we tell, and how we tell them.

But you do get tired, and reach a point where you ask yourself why bother.

In the end, the very best thing a writer can do is write a really good book—the best she can. And behave intelligently in public forums.

But even with that, there are going to be snickers and slams. There are going to be those who say they love the genre but want it to be something just a little different—without valuing what it is. A celebration of love, of emotion, of the power of finding a lifemate, and the hope that everyone can.

Happy ever after isn’t trite. It’s the big, shiny gold ring we’re all trying to reach. Romance novels tell us it’s possible. They can be fluffy or intense, heart-warming or heart-wrenching, clever or simple, about ordinary people or extraordinary ones—or those who aren’t actually people at all. And yes, there’s plenty of dreck, which is why the cream rises.

But the statement that love matters, and the hope we can find it is essential. Why is that not something to be valued and respected, in life and in literature?

If by that you’re asking whether authors of romance novels should try to change the image of the genre, so that romance as a genre is not automatically assumed to be ‘fluff’ and ‘porn for women’, then my answer is that I think that’s something worth doing, but I suspect that not all authors have the time/inclination/ability to make a difference, so it may not be a task that every romance author wants to engage in.

Maybe also it’s a question of what will “make a difference.”  IMO, authors writing the very best books they can makes a difference.  Authors taking the genre seriously (and I’m not talking about writing “serious” or “deep” books) makes a difference.  Authors talking about the genre seriously (again, not talking about serious as deep or dark here)—critically, even—makes a difference.  And I’m frankly not sure how much *extra* time this takes, because a lot of it seems more about attitude than specific actions. 

It doesn’t bother me that any number of genre books aspire to nothing more than ‘mere’ entertainment—I don’t see anything wrong with that. In fact, not any old thing entertains me. And simply because something is ‘mere’ entertainment does not mean it has to be badly written, badly edited, badly bound and covered, and badly marketed.  I wish that some *inside* the genre seemed to respect it more.  Because it seems to me that those writing, publishing, reviewing, reading, studying the genre from within should have the initial and primary burden of respect (of genre self-respect, really).  When books look like they’ve been pumped out in a week and edited in a weekend, though, it’s hard to get a sense of that self-respect.  THAT makes me much more frustrated than what any NY Times or Atlanta Journal-Constitution talking head might say about the genre.

Najida: I loved your post so much I printed it out, and have “hidden” it in a favorite book, where I know I’ll come across it again in the future. You’re in Pablo Neruda. Thank you.

Laura: As always, you have excellent and pointed questions, none of which I’m going to answer without giving them the thought they deserve. I do hate the clinch cover on “Lord of Scoundrels”. I agree that “romance” and “great literature” are not mutually exclusive. What, in your opinion, are five great romance genre novels that meet your personal criteria for great literature?

Nora: I think you scared off Jetso.

I’m off to the library to find some Laura Kinsale. Maybe she’ll be the one to get me back on my feminist soapbox, the one sitting over there in the corner being used as yet another toy box.

There are going to be those who say they love the genre but want it to be something just a little different—without valuing what it is. A celebration of love, of emotion, of the power of finding a lifemate, and the hope that everyone can.

That question of “what it is” is sticky, though, isn’t it?  That’s the objection that greeted authors at the forefront of the Romantic/erotic Romance trend and authors who write mm/ff/mmf/mfff/fff/mmm/etc., Romance, too because they were pushing certain boundaries.  As much as I agree with you that a genre is defined by its limits, I think it can also become tyrannical in confusing formalistic boundaries with moral boundaries, thus artificially narrowing the definition.  That’s why I like the open discussions about boundaries—they keep the genre honest, in a sense, by testing and re-testing those limits to see where they are and aren’t.

Coming late to this, but ...

But I do think one would study it in a very different way than classical Texts. There is a certain facelessness to genre fiction that makes the study of individual books more difficult

Uh-oh. I take it that you’ve never studied popular fiction of any kind. Because for some reason or other, people have managed to write loads of books and articles, sometimes even whole encyclopedias (okay, half of an encyclopedia), on individual books of genre fiction.

Laura, you study this question at a professional level.  Do you think we in the industry restrict ourselves if we don’t work to try to convince people we’re writing something more than genre literature?

Darlene, as an academic and writer I don’t really see a problem with the label “genre fiction”. I don’t see myself as writing mainstream literature; I write within a specific set of rules or conventions, and these are the parameters of one specific genre. And no, this does not automatically result in less diversity. Or are all sonnets the same? Or all classical tragedies?

I don’t think the label “genre fiction” or “popular fiction” is the problem. Other genres of popular fiction have gained a wide acceptance in the past years (e.g., mysteries and fantasy) and have been the focus of a number of good, insightful academic studies. For some reason or other that did not happen with romance.

So the problem is, as Laura has already pointed out, the perception that romance is “fluff” and “soft-porn for women” and that therefore it’s perfectly okay to make wild generalisations about romance. Even today there are academics who think they can write about romance without ever having read a romance novel (*sigh* and I met one of them last week). Luckily enough, the tide is changing, and parts of academia have begun to take the genre more serious.

>>I write within a specific set of rules or conventions, and these are the parameters of one specific genre. And no, this does not automatically result in less diversity. Or are all sonnets the same? Or all classical tragedies?<<

Excellent point, and worth remembering the next time I hear “They’re all the same!”  I know they’re not all the same, but trying to explain that (in simple terms) to someone who doesn’t read romance is difficult.

And simply because something is ‘mere’ entertainment does not mean it has to be badly written, badly edited, badly bound and covered, and badly marketed.  I wish that some *inside* the genre seemed to respect it more.

True. But a lot of this is outside an individual author’s control. She may have proof-read her novel and sent in detailed suggestions for the cover only to see it come back with errors introduced during type-setting and a cover which makes her recoil in horror but which won’t be changed because the art and/or marketing department(s) are convinced that man-titty sells. And the pressure on many romance writers to produce frequently may also affect the quality. Some authors can produce quantity and quality, but not all.

What, in your opinion, are five great romance genre novels that meet your personal criteria for great literature?

I hope I’m not going to sound evasive, but I’m not going to give you a list. For a start I haven’t got a definition of ‘great literature’, other than that it should be thought-provoking, entertaining, provide some insight into the social context in which it was written and be ‘well-written’ (but that last one is very subjective, because although obviously no-one wants to see typos or malapropisms - incidentally, I just saw this youtube video about the ‘impotence of proofreading’ and it’s very funny - tastes can vary). Because tastes vary, there usually has to be some kind of consensus that the novel really is ‘great’. I think we’re heading in that direction with Crusie’s oeuvre because there were enough of us eager to try to get together a collection of essays just about her novels. I think it’ll take time for scholars studying romance to build up a core of authors who are often studied and generally acknowledged to be ‘great’. We’re really only just beginning to do the necessary work, and there are so many romances we haven’t yet read or re-read. I tend to notice more of the layers in a romance the more often I re-read it. I’ve been re-reading Loretta Chase’s Lord of Scoundrels for example, and the second time around I spotted symbolism which I hadn’t seen the first time. So I’m sure there are times when I fail to realise the extent of a book’s ‘greatness’ simply because it’s too much fun/too emotionally absorbing and I’m going along for the ride and not noticing all the other levels on which it functions. And similarly, but in a negative way, there may be times when a book is well-written and has merit, but because I dislike something about it, I skim it or even refuse to read it, simply on the basis of what I’ve read about it. One doesn’t get the choice to do that when one’s told what the set texts are in school or at university ;-)

It’s also difficult to compare category romances with War and Peace because their lengths are so different. There are some Harlequin Mills & Boons which are real gems but maybe in some ways it would be better to compare them to the sonnets that Sandra mentioned rather than to some of the longer, weightier prose tomes of great literature. I’m fascinated by category romances and there are many I think are ‘great’. I’m hoping to do more work on them in the future.

And the pressure on many romance writers to produce frequently may also affect the quality. Some authors can produce quantity and quality, but not all.

Oh, I definitely agree, Laura, which is why I didn’t say “authors” specifically in that little rant.  Authors, publishers, editors, etc., including—to some extent readers—enable the IMO too low standard for production values in genre Romance. Ultimately, I think the buck stops with the publisher, who IMO is MOST responsible.  But I’m not convinced that everyone else in the chain is free of some responsibility, either.

I think romantic love and sex (and the possibility of a HEA) are pretty much integral to being a human being, right? 

No, seriously: I’m not trying to argue that a person is less of a person if they aren’t married or if they don’t have kids or whatever, but love and sex are huge driving forces in most people’s lives, right?  This is like - not to get all pretentious and stuff, so please excuse the capitals - but it’s part of the Human Experience (TM).

  And I’m preaching to the choir here, aren’t I.  Um. 

So why is a book somehow less worthy if it deals almost exclusively with those concepts?  I mean, we can say most people will experience sexual desire from puberty until they are dead.  So sexual desire is a big huge part of being human, and fiction that explores that part of being human is just as important as any other driving human urge, correct? 

And romantic love (and the Happily Ever After) is about how we connect with other people, y’know, how we’re not just monkeys or dogs or horses who go into heat and get knocked up to continue the species.  We are people, and love can be terrifying and glorious and savage, and it can be deep and calm and it can last for decades, and it can be bittersweet and worth all the pain it brings.  And dude, I’m a sucker for romance that changes a character’s world, for better or worse.  (Yeah, yeah, I’ve got a thing for creepy codependent romances.  I.  Um. Own my shameful lit-kinks!)  And love can have a happy ending!

Now that I’m thinking about it, I’m wondering if maybe that’s where the prejudice is coming from—the idea that romance ends on a happy (or optimistic) note.  I come from a really geeky, scifi-fantasy background, so you’ll excuse me, but: could this be the problem?  I mean, romance in other mediums - like scifi and fantasy and literary fiction and thrillers and horror and whatnot - exists.  It’s often an integral part of the plot, right?  But it’s either ill-fated romance, or it’s the kind of romance where someone’s partner proves their love or their worth as a human being by sacrificing themselves.  Or it’s the kind of romance where the happy ending is justified because yes, they’re together, but they’ve also saved the world or blown up the Russian spies or killed the demon or had some serious angst.  I mean, just to take one example, most Stephen King books do have the situation where a man and a woman survive and they are romantically interested in each other, but that man and woman have been through five hundred pages of fire and blood and rotting eyeballs and all of their families being decapitaed or disembowled or whatnot, so you can’t really accuse them of getting a Happy Ending (tm).   

(I.  Um.  Not to mock other genres.  I love other genres too!)

And I think that’s - hm.  I mean, the ultimate goal in romance is your HEA.  And I think part of the prejudice against Romance, as a genre, is coming from this idea that a romantic happily-ever-after is not enough, in itself, to fuel a story.  Or the idea is that it shouldn’t be the ultimate goal, it shouldn’t be the McGuffin that your characters are working for, if that makes sense.  I think somewhere along the line people decided that it was.  Hm.  Selfish, maybe?  To have a character who wants to fall in love and live happily ever after, and is willing to spend time and effort and energy to achieve that goal?  Because obviously your characters’ main priorities should be to stop demons from eating people or keep the Russian spies from poisoning the president’s toothpaste or blah blah blah; and then, when they’ve done something suitably heroic, they can be rewarded with a romantic relationship, but it’s not something that they should actively want or seek out or work for, if that makes sense.  (And that kind of romance usually feels tacked-on and gratuitous and out of the blue.) 

(I don’t know, maybe I’m totally missing the point.  If so, feel free to tell me to get my head out of my butt.)

~And I’m frankly not sure how much *extra* time this takes, because a lot of it seems more about attitude than specific actions.~

Yes and no.

I couldn’t agree with you more that it’s a lot about attitude. It is, it is, it is.

But it’s also about going over the same ground again and again. And again and again. It gets old, and it gets frustrating to feel CONSTANTLY compelled or obligated to defend and explain. And that does take time, and energy, and at least for me, a certain amount of restraining the desire to say fuck it. Just fuck it. I write what I write. Take it or leave it.

I’m not Austen. I’m not Tolstoy. I’m a fairly talented writer of popular fiction who chose the Romance genre because I believe in its core message. That love matters most. And the hope of finding it, working for it and attaining it—and enjoying it—sustains us.

That’s it, and that’s pretty much all.

I can’t control what others write in or out of the genre, or the quality thereof. Or how publishers publish or cover art is used. I sure can’t control perception of an entire genre. I control what I write, and I write what I believe.

What an interesting discussion, thank you, everyone. (I’m a different Molly from the one who posted up-thread, BTW.)

Personally I agree that the covers of romance novels have an awful lot to do with the perception of them, especially considering the number of people who feel qualified to comment without actually reading one (or after reading one crappy Cassie Edwards their grandmother gave them, or whatever.)

But the covers. My god. People bitch about the clinch, but I have to say I can’t think of a single romance cover which I would consider actually GOOD design. There seems to only be a range between “breathtakingly awful” and “inoffensive.” Like it or not we do judge based on visuals and the visuals the industry uses are sending a certain message, which has got to turn off, or at least fail to attract, almost all younger readers.

I would love, by the way, to see examples of what any of you consider good romance covers. I wish I could think of some.

Anyway, aside from that, if you ask me romance is absolutely sneered at because of the prejudice against “women’s” themes, love story and HEA, etc. But the second main argument I hear against them is that they’re stupid. That reading a romance novel is for people (women) who don’t have the brainpower to handle “real” fiction which is supposedly messier, less formulaic, written at a higher level…although this is totally false as a description of the whole genre it is true that there are some pretty freaking stupid romances around as well as smart ones, and that they sell.

Are they stupider than the worst of other genres? I doubt it, but hell if I know, I’m not interested enough in mystery or scifi to do a survey of their dregs. But that’s the rep.

Maybe the problem is that because of the sexist mindset, romance novels would have to work twice as hard quality-wise as mystery to get equal respect, and they don’t.

Sometimes I wonder if clinch covers aren’t just a huge “fuck you, go away” to literary critics & snobs anyway.

I control what I write, and I write what I believe.

Which, in the end, is what counts, IMO. Because as much as I bitch and moan about what “the market” is offering, I actually don’t think that any market trend, any publisher priority, or any editor’s preference NECESSITATES bad books (contributes to, perhaps, but doesn’t create outright).  Great books can be written quickly, under great market pressure, and within strict limits.  Those conditions may not be optimal, and they may have detrimental effects on the genre in general (e.g. by privileging quantity over quality), but no author is coerced into writing Romance; it’s a voluntary tour of duty, after all.

I would love, by the way, to see examples of what any of you consider good romance covers.

I lovelovelove the cover for

Chicklet said on 07.06.07 at 06:06 AM • [comment link]

Feminism at it’s heart only applies to white women. Black women are even more marginalized because they are female and they are black. Latinos and Asians can “pass” if they “assimilate” into “white” culture, but for most white people, black people will always be “The Other”.

White women fight against this patriarchal society—the white male—which is why the romance genre is gloated over by so many of its fans and writers (it’s for women, by women, ergo, we’ve “beat” patrimony with this genre). But black women are left out in the cold because they deal with a white patriarchal and matriarchal society. The very white women who marched to defend THEIR rights lay down their arms and call the battle conquered when the male power structure gives way to WHITE women.

Hell, from the entire year I’ve been in this online community, the VERY second someone appears “intolerant” of erotic romance or menages or gay romance, everyone’s hackles are up, claws come out and the words “bigoted”, “Conservative”, “Christian”, “Right-Wing” fly about the blogosphere as quickly as some people tend to claim Monica brandishes the word “racist”.

The fact that people either ignore or challenge Monica or anyone pointing this out or even the negativity shown towards WoC feminism from white feminists is the proof in the pudding that for all the so-called “Liberalism” and “Feminism” floating around this website and others, the buck stops when it comes to marginalized women(or even people) of color.

And it’s ironic that my code word is “black45”. Maybe people need to check out websites such as racialicious.com, rachelstavern.com, angryasianman.com, antiracistparent.com and come off their high horses.

And oh yeah, I agree with what Monica says. Everyone is so apt to defend this genre against marginalization by outsiders while marginalizing anything that doesn’t conform to “white” American mindsets (and that includes the stereotypes in Harlequin Presents, “Native American” romances, fantasy Scottish romances, the stubbornly cavalier disregard of history, etc). You may think books like HP’s are all fun and games and “fantasy”, but they are ethnic stereotypes no matter which way you slice it, and stereotypes people of color or of non-WASP extraction have been fighting against from the media for decades.

And um, if you’ve been following Monica and other black romance authors, you’d be aware that they’ve spent their money on the RWA and have submitted their books to the RITAs to NEVER final and for their voices to be completely shut out of the organization that is supposed to embody every author and book who uses the word “romance”.

Maybe they aren’t screaming loudly enough to be heard through the glass ceiling the “fortunate” romance writers are proudly standing upon.

Najida, I printed out your comment and taped it to the edge of my monitor. You’re the kind of reader I’d want on the other end of my book.

And as a reader, a big “what she said.”

Feminism at it’s heart only applies to white women.

Bell hooks writes that

For years I witnessed the reluctance of white feminist thinkers to acknowledge the importance of race. I witnessed their refusal to divest of white supremacy, their unwillingness to acknowledge that an anti-racist feminist movement was the only political foundation that would make sisterhood be a reality. And I witnessed the revolution in consciousness that occurred as individual women began to break free of denial, to break free of white supremacist thinking. These awesome changes restore my faith in feminist movement’ (2000: 58)