Smart Bitches, Trashy Books

Wow. I think that it is good that you are not being shrill and yelly, but I certainly wouldn’t hold it against you if you were in this situation! Its horrid! Thanks for covering it

I’d like to thank Jen for so eloquently and politely pointing out that they are being elitist douchebags without actually using that particular phrase.

I’m finding that many arts have had to fight for respect.  Once upon a time ballet dancers where considered low class—- Now, few arts are more high brow.  Some arts continue to have bad reps or be plagued with total misconceptions.

Heck, same can be said for some professions (funny, but I’m realizing that for me—-profession one, semi-profession two and hobby are all fighting for understanding and overcoming stupidity).

I don’t have the answer, other than the universal one…..that educating the public comes one person at a time.  In small steps.  Jen did the right thing, and she probably cracked the wall.  Someone else will add another crack, a hole and then one day, it’ll break.  Having Nora Roberts getting a bobble head doesn’t hurt :)

Maybe simply reading the books in public (after demanding better covers ;) ) passing them on to friends, asking to do book reviews for local newspapers etc.  Or in my case, adding site links and reviews to my website (OK, I’m working on it).

Hell, I don’t know.  I’m still battling my own wars.  Just guess this one is added to the list.

“...afraid of being clobbered left and right by cultural assumptions…”

Well said!  And all too accurate.  It’s easier to dismiss the genre out of hand than read enough to learn to change your mind.

Pretty sure Jen is Jennifer Weiner of Snark Spot.

I think my favorite part of Jen’s comments was not her pointing out that the TBR staff are elitest douchebags per se, but that everybody already knows they are elitest douchebags, they know they are elitest douchbags, and now we just want to know why. Well played.

I was thinking about why and how SF managed to slip into mainstream reviews, and I think it had more to do with writers like Wells, Vonnegut and Tolkein than Bradbury and Heinlein. When schools start requiring students to read a particular book as a prime example of a literary device, ignoring it becomes pretty difficult. Especially if all those students read it and actually enjoy it. I think that somewhere along the way, someone decided that “Literature” (please note the capital L) had managed to infiltrate SF, and so it became deserving of coveted print space.

I don’t believe that the same has happened with Romance yet. I know that we here can make the argument that it certainly has, but what matters is if someone outside of the romance community can make it too.

Alright, now Katie. Time to stop rambling.

I’ll admit that I don’t follow the NYTimes book review.  The few times I’ve skimmed it, I’ve been singularly unimpressed by what they seem to view as Great Literature.  Dysfunctional characters living out dysfunctional lives is hardly worth my time.  (Incidentally, this might also explain by deep disdain for Fitzgerald).  But does the NYTimes book review often pick up mysteries and SF?  Or are these a once in a blue moon event and only if the author has a huge following?

Do they review the latest Elizabeth Peters, for example?

If romance is seemingly the ONLY genre that they ignore, then I suspect their reluctance is that they can’t get past the idea that romance has moved on from the era of Barbara Cartland and bodice rippers.

I admit that a huge amount of romance is about as deep as a puddle (MJD).  But there are some excellent novels out there which tackle “issues” beyond how much hot sweaty sex two people can have in a 24 hour period. 

I suppose the other question I had would be what romance authors do you think deserve a spot on the NYT book review?

You know, it’s rather telling that people dismiss a genre as uninteresting or beneath them. You see it all the way down to fan fiction. “You like X? What are you, a freak!” Goodness, it’s a plague in any fandom, and it makes sense if part of that comes from the elitist attitude we see everyday when it comes to reading (or any media, really). I may not like mysteries, but hey, if it makes someone happy, good for them.

Romance is no better or worse than any other genre. I read SFF and romance, so I’m pretty much at the low end of the totem pole for some people. I don’t understand what makes Robin Cook any better than Nora Roberts. Both are good in their genres. I’m not a Cook fan, but my godmom is. Which is fine, it limits our conversation topics when it comes to books, but it makes her happy to read them.

I’ll be honest and say I dislike most classics. I just don’t find Shakespeare or Austen all that inspiring. It doesn’t mean I’m an uneducated brute. If everyone liked the same authors, we wouldn’t have a need for bookstores. It seems silly to snub the romance genre. Most of my bookshelf is full of it. Actually, I’d say of the five shelves, 3 are wholly romance, with the other being a mixture of SFF, reference books, baby name books, and some DVDs. And those are the ones I keep.

I like the sharp wit that I can find in almost all of the romance books on my shelf. I like the stories, the ones that touched me enough to keep them. I’m not ashamed of it, but I’m angry at people who do make romance readers feel ashamed, like it’s some dirty secret. It’s not. Anything that gets people to read for fun/entertainment is good in my opinion. Reviewers that just pooh-pooh the books as fluff with no substance really do a disservice to the readers. People know what they like, and considering how many people, women especially, that read romance, it’s not something that’s gonna fade out of style.

Which is why I think this site so awesome. It gives a chance to comment about the reviewed books, and to find fellow fans. To say “Hey, look. Other people like Author Y. Cool!” Also to find new things about books you’ve already things. Things you didn’t notice.

It’s a shame that romance is treated like that dirty little secret. People who think that their preferred genre is the end-all-be-all are losing out on a lot of opportunities to visit some amazing worlds. Actually, I kind of pity them.

I don’t follow romance closely enough to know this, so I’ll ask:  is there a book (or books) that crosses over from being pure romance into Litrachah?  I guess I’m looking for an author or a title that is the equivalent of something Vonnegut or Tolkien wrote. 

Better yet, consider comics and graphic novels- people used to dismiss them and then Alan Moore wrote “Watchmen” and Neil Gaiman wrote “Sandman”.  Are there books in Romancelandia that have the same depth and scope as those works?  That’s the sort of thing that would bring romance into the mainstream.

In Chicago this weekend, I noticed with pleasure that the Tribune book section continues to provide reviews of romance novels. Although not the stuffy

august Book Review, the Chicago Tribune is a large, well-respected newspaper ... unless you’re a Sun-Times’ reader, but that’s a different fist fight.

Also, Publishers Weekly and Kirkus Reviews have always included romance novels in their publications; a starred review from either or both can mean a great deal to writer and bookseller.

All of which indicates that at least someone out there recognizes books that sell while others continue to sniff in disdain. Sadly, even if a legitimate romance-reviewing Lionel Trilling were produced—and who better than the SBs?—can’t you just hear the “I knew Lionel Trilling and you, Madam, are no Lionel Trilling” comments now?

One factor may be that most romance novels are paperback - that seems to be a factor in the elitist discrimination. The Washington Post will sometimes review romances, but only ones that come out in hardcover. And, yes, there’s the “ew ... gurls” factor as well.

#1: OMG… I said something compelling enough that Candy commented on it! I think I need to sit down for a minute…

I see your point on the Wells, although I was going more on how the bookstore shelves him than when he was published. And I guess it would be the opposite with Vonnegut… if you read through many of his obits, he’s credited as an SF writer, but you’re right that he’s more likely to be found in the fiction section. And maybe that’s the point. Their work transcends genre classification, and maybe that led to more mainstream credibility.

For romance, I would put Diana Gabaldon in that category for a more modern writer. I’ve seen Outlander shelved in both sections. And I totally agree that Jane Austen is the Godfather (mother?) of the romance, but if you were to dare say that to my Austen scholar/ college professor aunt, she would bite your head off (and she’s a big lady… I bet she could do it). She argues Austen is a social commentator, blah blah blah. I guess what it comes down to is that SFF and mystery are pretty low genres (in the elitest douchbag opinion) but romance is even lower. That means its going to take a lot more genre-bending writers to break the stereotypes.

Not to mention the covers. Good Lord, the covers.

“But does the NYTimes book review often pick up mysteries and SF?  Or are these a once in a blue moon event and only if the author has a huge following?

Do they review the latest Elizabeth Peters, for example? “

As Todd pointed out, newspapers like the NYT and the Washington Post generally avoid reviewing paperbacks, and what I’ve seen of reviews of mysteries in the NYT bears that out. For example, I’ve seen the latest hardcover releases by PD James, Ruth Rendell/Barbara Vine, Ian Rankin, Patricia Cornwell and (I think) Elizabeth George all get lengthy reviews in the NYT. The day the NYT reviews a mass-market cozy, though, will be the day I eat my hat.

I think the NYT makes a valid point in that, do they need to review romance?  Aren’t those of us who are interested in romance interested enough that we frequent websites like here, and AAR, to find the latest thoughtful reviews?

I read NYT book reviews for information on books I’m not automatically exposed to.  Through the NYT reviews I found Six Frigates by Ian Toll and Keturah and Lord Death by Martine Leavitt, both of which I enjoyed immensely for very different reasons.  But the latest Nora Roberts or Loretta Chase or even Meljean Brooks?  I’m going to hear plenty about it from the usual suspects.

Maybe it would be a good way to expose more of the non-romance public to romance novels, but when there’s limited column inches, I’m not sure it’s worth it for the NYT.

If Dwight Garner had a little more imagination and cojonical fortitude, he would get The Smart Bitches to review romance for him.
I’m serious and totally not sucking up.
I never read romance before I started working for Ellora’s Cave. (Full disclosure: I’m now their VP of Media Relations) I was a newspaper editor, and I ran book reviews, literary contests, etc. I was a snotty Salman Rushdie and Margaret Atwood groupie. (BTW: Don’t forget it wasn’t just Kilgore Trout—Margaret Atwood and Doris Lessing both wrote SF too,which could have some bearing on why it gets reviewed in NYTBR)
I never took romance seriously. Because, let’s face it, there’s so much bad shit out there wearing the banner of romance. As with any other genre, you have to really follow romance to understand it.
Y’all Smart Bitches really follow it, really understand it, have an intelligent pov on it and are pee-your-pants funny. If I had read you guys when I was a newspaper editor, it totally would have changed my snotty pov on romance.

Aren’t those of us who are interested in romance interested enough that we frequent websites like here, and AAR, to find the latest thoughtful reviews?

But that doesn’t account for the people who don’t know about the review sites like this or AAR. Not everyone is online, or savvy enough to know what to look for. I know my godmom can barely work AOL, and even then I have to help at times. So by not giving it some attention even, say, three times a year where they have a checklist of favorites and must reads, it’s back to the dirty little secret idea. It’s not the amount of acknowledgment, it’s the effort. At least for me.

I say this as someone who looked at the NYT reviews once or twice and decided I liked my opinion more. I do the same thing with the local (AJC) reviews.

I’m going to repeat a lot of what Candy said.  As an honest-to-God Austen critic, published and everything, I think romance as a genre should reclaim her.  In fact, I argue exactly that here.  She is nothing if not a romance writer, especially for Pride and Prejudice and Persuasion.  And she has as many layers and meanings and pithy and pertinent social commentary as Jenny Crusie or La Nora or Suzanne Brockmann.  And she’s read to death in high schools and college—it’s just that no one reads her as a romance author.

As for ground-breaking, genre-elevating authors:  Suzanne Brockmann, Laura Kinsale, Jenny Crusie, SEP at her best, La Nora (books like Birthright are just brilliant, rich texts ripe for academic analysis), Joey Hill (what I wouldn’t give to review The Vampire Queen’s Servant for a publication like the NYT!!!!  Bwahahahaha!), and even, dinosaurs help us all, J.R. Ward.

Romance that I was forced to read as a teen:  Shakespeare, the Bronte sisters, Austin…but where, oh, where is the modern romance?  Seriously, history is littered with romance as a serious genre in literature.  Do we think that we are beyond romance?  Are dramas of the heart no longer thought of as serious fare?  Or is it just American romance?  Come to think of it, why did no one force me to read Gone With the Wind? 

So many questions.

my word = hard36

Romance, as a genre, i.e. both the defining parameter of monogamous HEA and the quantity published making it a force to be reckoned with, is fairly young. 

Step back 80 years and sci-fi was not SF, but pulp, quite the overwhelming majority of it.  The books published then satisfied the hunger in a generation (or two) of young men for novelty and adventure and scantily glad girls under the constant threat of tentacle sex. (Think of THAT what what in the butt) But most of it weren’t exactly quality ware.  And they didn’t age too well. 

My theory is that romance is at a similar point on the trajectory, a few decades past the pulp era—probably not a whole lot of us want to loveingly re-read the boss-secretary romances of the 70s or 80s—but not at a point where it has moved quite beyond satisfying mass hunger in a cafeteria manner yet.  And when I say cafeteria manner, I mean where you occasionally come across really really good, fantastic, soul-enrapturing stuff but mostly you just eat and leave.

Unfortunately, romance writers who can compete in every aspect with the top literary writers (and Candy made a good list) are still few and far in between.  Notice also on that list three authors have a problem with dropping off the face of the earth once in a while and one no longer writes romance at all.

SF didn’t have the respect until it moved from mere adventure and space opera into the realm of ideas.  I don’t know what’s gonna be a similar turning point for romance.  It could be a general and noticeable rise in the literary quality of the genre’s output.  Or it could be when women finally take over the world and everyone has to take what we like seriously.  :-)

Personally, I say, screw the NYT, and I say it with all the love and adoration of someone who squee-ed when her picture appeared in that august rag (for purposes unrelated to present discussion).  What’s the point of telling a snob that you think he’s being snobbish?  He knows it and likes it that way.

Let him keep his ivory tower.  I’ll do my own thing and set fire to his tower when I have a spare minute.  :-)

Sherry

P.S. The Bitches have been on fire lately.  Woo.

Sherry, I think you’re absolutely right about your theory of the stage of romance as a genre (and it’s a fascinating idea), but as to your comment on “the defining parameter of monogamous HEA,” I have to disagree with you as to that being new.  That’s what Richardson’s Pamela and Austen’s Pride and Prejudice and Persuasion and Bronte’s Jane Eyre and the other Bronte’s Wuthering Heights is all about.  And all/most of Shakespeare’s comedy.  And if they’re not the most canonical of canonical Lit-er-a-chure, then tell me what is.

Sherry, that was the first thought that crossed my mind.  There’s a definite literary minded disconnect between the romantic novels of the 18th and 19th centuries and the genre romances of the late 20th century. 

I remember when I was in college early 70’s and took part in the first SF class that was offered.  We talked a lot about Campbell’s The Hero with a Thousand Faces.  I can also remember the assigned readings:  Childhood’s End by Clark and Einstein Intersection by Samuel Delany.  The book I chose to read was The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K. Le Guin.

I’ve been trying to come up with some works comparable to the sf reading list in genre romance but I just can’t come up with anything.

Nevertheless, Sarah, one charge that can rightly be leveled at romances (many of them, anyway) is that they deal in stock characters and follow the same pattern.  I mean, we know from the beginning that Godefroi LeBeauhunc and La Belle Iseult are going to meet, hate each other, be attracted to each other, fight, shag, deal with their difficult families, shag, have a Big Misunderstanding, have a thrilling action sequence, have make up sex, and then get married.  The End.

Of course every romance has its own plot (?), but you get my meaning.  The cardboard characters don’t help, either.  I’m glad to hear that Godefroi is six foot six, muscular and has unresolved Mother issues, but tell me about the inner life of his mind.  Does he have any fears or doubts?  Likewise, it’s nice that Iseult is the fairest woman in Normandy, but does she have any personal flaws at all?

My point is:  their character development is not what drives these novels.  The focus is on the romantic entanglement.  If there was no HEA, then the whole point of the book would be lost.  This could be why romance is not grouped with “literature”.

Pride & Prejudice, on the other hand, is a romantic novel of manners, but its primary focus is on the emotional and personal development of Elizabeth Bennet.  Lizzie’s inner life is as important as anything that happens in the outside world, including her relationship with Darcy. 

Think- if the romance with Darcy hadn’t worked out (and it almost didn’t), how would Lizzie’s character be different at the end of the book?  She would have been a sadder woman, but the fundamental changes that had taken place in her character during the course of the novel would remain the same and in that sense the novel would still have an upbeat ending. 

You see the same thing in Jane Eyre- remember that Jane was ready to chuck Mr. Rochester, the Hall, and even England itself once she found her independence towards the end of the book.  That romance was almost dead in the water, too.  But the book would have had a happy ending anyway, because Jane had developed into a stronger and wiser woman.

Ah, well.  It’s 12:30 here and I’m going to bed.  Sometimes I really hate having been an English major.

Hmmm. I actually thought Garner responded to “Jen” quite respectfully.  We’re all familiar with (and perhaps quite accepting of) that edge of stridency that ONE MORE seeming dismissal of genre Romance can engender, but is Garner?  What does that look like from the outside?  I frankly thought he did quite well, and is the first person associated with a MAJOR pub to open to door to Romance reviewing.

IMO they are elitist bigots, who get their rocks off feeling intelectually superior.  I think it’s safe to say that romance has the largest market share of any ignored genre.  Major bookstores & critics appear embarrased that romance even exits…we could blame it on the covers.  Personally I can’t stand chick lit, nor many of the classics.

Darlene…thanks for the recommendation, Six Frigates it’s on my shopping list for Fathers Day.

Romance, as a genre, i.e. both the defining parameter of monogamous HEA and the quantity published making it a force to be reckoned with, is fairly young.

Is it really? When Georgette Heyer and Barbara Cartland started to get published in the 1920s? And in the 1970s you didn’t only have the secretary-&-boss romances (which I would associate with category romance), but also sweet & savage love romances (the original bodice rippers) and gothic romances (Victoria Holt).

I’m too late - you guys have already said anything I could have possibly added to this conversation so here’s a big DITTO.

I love Jane Austen - and she was snubbed in her own day for writing romantic drivel.

A contemporary author who is considered more literature: Anita Shreve. Her stories aren’t romance only because they typically involved star crossed lovers and often have tragic endings but relationships are the driving force of many of them (Sea Glass, Fortune’s Rocks, Resistance) She’s a wonderful writer but I wonder if she’d have the same sort of reputation if she put in HEA endings?

Someone asked about the literary fiction/romance combination.  I would say Mary Gordon’s “Spending: A Utopian Divertimento.”
Here’s my review.

Reading romance novels seems to be everyones dirty little secret.  Print reviewers don’t want to actually start admitting they read the stuff.

Age old prejudices take a long time to overcome.  Here’s hoping in the next 10 years romance novels finally get the space they deserve.

I think there should be a review for everyone.  From those who DO review the romance to those who don’t.  Who gives a shit if someone looks down on you for reading a book?  You’re enjoying it right?  Why do you (general you) need verification that your choice of reading material is right?

So what if some paper or group doesn’t review and wants their snobbery?  Let them have it.  It’s their toy.

Does it bug me that a group thinks that one genre of book is not worthy of their reviews or that they (probably) scratch each other’s back in reviewing?

Nah.  It’s not that big a deal and doesn’t stunt my enjoyment in the least.  If I want reviews I’ll go looking for them in the places I know to find them.

dillene, I think Candy said what I would say, but I’ll just reiterate it (damn you, Candy, stealing my thunder!).  Jane Austen was brilliant and a genius, yes.  But so are some of the romance novelists of today.  Suzanne Brockmann’s best books (Heart Throb, The Unsung Hero) are about the character development you’re talking about.  As are Nora Roberts’ best, almost all of Kinsale, Jenny Crusie’s best, SEP’s best (see rest of list above).  I picked the authors I did because, well, they’re the best and they do exactly what you’re talking about in your comment.  Yes, there’s crap out there, but there’s crap SciFi, crap fantasy, crap mystery, crap horror, and yet the genres AS A WHOLE get reviewed, where romance doesn’t.

I don’t think it’s all about the HEA in the best romance books. The worst try to provide complete closure, skipping ahead to the marriage ceremony, children, sometimes even going 20 years ahead to have some grandchildren turn up and say how happy their grandparents are. I much prefer it when there is a bit of mystery left about how it will turn out, they don’t necessarily get married or have children. Some books I just pretend don’t have that awful Epilogue, because they were fine up to that point.

My point? How many mystery books end without telling us whodunnit? How many sci-fi books don’t have a twist in the tail where it turns out we were really on a future Earth after all(!)? Can you have a disco without flashing lights and Earth, Wind and Fire? All genres have rules, otherwise they wouldn’t be part of that genre. The interesting thing is how they can be used creatively, and thats what I need to know about in a review.

“All genres have rules, otherwise they wouldn’t be part of that genre.”

Erm. What I meant was - All parts of a genre conform to the genre rules, otherwise they wouldn’t be part of that genre.

Thank God! Another back-up reason to only read The Times when someone leaves it at the coffee shop… I love being validated!

Applause, applause, applause to Candy and her Adult Reaction!!!! Me? I say screw Dwight Garner and the rest of his ilk… (I have always wanted to use “ilk” in something besides a crossword puzzle)...

and I really hate the fact that in this one tiny instance, he’s right… I much prefer getting the Romance Book Reviews from people who actually appreciate them and know when a book is good, bad or ugly.

But it *is* all about the benjamins!!!  I used to work at one of the big box bookstores, and one of my duties was to inventory and merchandise the NYT bestseller display as well as the in store bestseller display.  They *never* matched.  The NYT list always contained 2-3 books that weren’t selling well, and the in store display usually had *gasp* romances! 

The other factor is how much pull a given editor or agent has at NYT.  It
s a very elite, cliquish circle.  Think maybe if romance editors took more pains to be taken seriously things might improve for romance writers and readers?  (And authors?  Stop with the feather boas already please.  You just look crazy.)

“..I think romance as a genre should reclaim her…”

Reclaim Austen? When did we lose her?

She’s our creator. Bronte (the good one…Charlotte) is her sister and Nora is our Queen.

As for the TBR surely they’ve reviewed Nicholas Sparks and every knows he’s a romance novelist.

Oh wait. I forget - he’s kills a character off at the end and that’s what makes him “important.” My bad.

Mr. Gardner was not only dismissive but patronizing in his answer. He also hinted that romance readers should go elsewhere to read their reviews - and since anyone can get news online as well as on TV this was not a wise choice of words.

We never lost Austen, as far as I’m concerned, but as far as the Austen establishment is concerned, whether academic or RFG, she is NOT a romance author, how dare you suggest such a thing?!

I nominate Michael Dirda of the Washington Post Book Review to review romances for the NYT. He actually reads and enjoys romances, sf, comics, mysteries, extremely esoteric literary works, and more. Reading his reviews is a delight because one always learns about wonderful books one has never heard of before. That’s the ideal kind of book reviewer, not an ignorant elitist pig who is being forced to read something he has already decided he hates. (And no, I do not know Dirda personally.)

The NYT error is to think it can or even should ignore what many millions of people are reading. This is folly. 

The merits of individual romances (remembering that 99% of everything is crap—and that’s a quote from a science fiction writer) should eventually be enshrined in more than our keeper shelves or our fond memories. Other readers to come deserve to know that these wonderful books exist. And that, after all, is the fundamental purpose of a book review. To let the public know what is out there.

Slightly off topic now, but while Wells is remembered for his science fiction during his prime he was also known as a big ideas essayist and social commentator. Also as a “big commie” according to one of my classmates in information science, where we discussed his idea of “The World Brain.”

Being a big ideas social commentator/critic is pretty much a dead field nowadays, but I think that having one who dabbled in telling people what’s what AND writing romance would do something to deghettoize the genre—I know Jenny Cruisie does some things along that line, but we need other voices. Also someone above pointed out theat there’s a lot of books getting reviewd as either straight literary or female-oriented fiction that are romances without a huge HEA. I think that not having a HEA is really what allows a book to cross over. I don’t like it, but it’s true.

OK,
reality sucks.  There are very few, any any HEA endings for most folks.  Unless you’re my neighbor, who just buried her husband of 60 years after caring for him for the last 3 months….sleeping by him and refusing a hospital bed because “we’ve slept together all this time, we’re not stopping now”.

But mostly, life is hard.  I spend my days around trainwrecks of human lives, not trying for HEA’s, just trying for, well….a few less cars in the train wrecked.  A little more health, better blood sugars, a bit more sanity, maybe a group home…..

So when I sit down to read, do I want reality?  Edgey? Biting, sophisticated, cutting edge?  Do I want whiney, bratty women who only care for themselves (sorry, but I deal with family members….many who can make selfish into a Olympic event!)  Do I want someone who can’t feel empathy or compassion or actually put another person first once and a while?

My ass…OK, so maybe it’s that the more I read 3rd world stories and listen to the music, the more I see a need for HEA if your world is difficult.
And that a bit of selflessness is the definer of kickass well over martial arts or a smart mouth.

That sometimes ‘edgey’ in western translates into writers who haven’t a clue about real life and write something to make themselves feel like they have lives.  There is usually a inverse corelation between actual pain experienced and pain on paper.  IMHGLO.

No one will rip those books apart quicker than someone who knows….a rapist doesn’t become ‘loving’ and fall in love with a victime.  A long time abused/molested female with a damaged mind doesn’t suddenly become sane and high functioning.  I kid with sociopathic tendencies doesn’t become good after being loved.  I believe in change within characters, but not characters changing——not without trauma, but I don’t want to read War and Peace either.

Anyhow, I read for escape….I not only WANT that HEA, but I want that 1 year, 5 year, hell, 50 year Epilogue…those are my favorites.  Don’t leave me hanging….If I want that, I’ll just go to work and watch yet another semi-wreck be discharged and wonder if we’ll see them again.  Or if one of my CSI officer students will tell me that she was at their murder scene that day (or worse, she was at the scene of someone THEY murdered….oy vey…..what irony).

I live for the romance that triggers memories of when I was young and blindly in love.  Sheesh, mock the Linda Howard stuff all you want, but she’s the standard….she writes about the emotions I once felt….that I want to feel again before I die….

Yep, some of us have had relationships that were very similar, very good and we like knowing that others can feel the same way.  Magic hoohoo?  Are you guys that clueless?  It’s not that the vagina is magic, it’s that the emotions are so strong everything seems different….the physical meshes with the mental… and everything is different.  A book without the magic sex screams to me that well, they don’t have that spark….

That they don’t feel all that humans are capable of feeling.

Keep your ‘kick butt females’ with witty combacks and ‘great careers’..... and give me a normal woman, who puts kindness as a the greatest human goal, who actually does nice things for others, with hips, a mortgage, pets, kids and personality which translates in to passion, a few magic hoohoo sex scenes, a HEA ending and a damn good 50 year Epilogue.

If romance as a genre give up that and has to change to make it fit into the other crap that’s being published and reviewed, then it’ll lose what makes it best….I’ll just write my own stuff, thankyouverymuch.

Rant off, thanks for listening. :)

Francois said: How many sci-fi books don’t have a twist in the tail where it turns out we were really on a future Earth after all(!)?

—>Dude, the answer to that would be “none since about 1950.”  (Sorry to jump on you; just pointing out your inherent anti-SF bias, here, and how that may be coloring your opinions regarding the TBR’s attitude towards romance novels.)

We in the SF genre aren’t thrilled with the TBR either. They persist in reviewing only a certain sort of SF book, the sort that is still largely viewed as “oh, not really SF, because it has literary merit.” It’s taken a decades-long campaign by SF writers and readers to get people to recognize that a lot of what was published as “literature” was in fact SF.

We did, in fact, have to create a new term for the stuff, so as to make the transition more palatable: “speculative fiction.” Margaret Atwood famously denied that The Handmaid’s Tale was science fiction, but eventually was able to admit it was “speculative fiction.” Thanks, Maggie. That’s very white of you.

When “speculative fiction” started to get dirtied up by some of that stuff with spaceships or elves, the term “slipstream” was brought into use. George Orwell was right—semantics can create people’s reality.

When the TBR reviews Lois McMaster Bujold, then I’ll take them seriously as reviewers of SF.

And for whoever asked about Tolkien being literature/canon? Two reasons: 1. LOTR is middle-aged now and despite lack of regard all that time, it still sells like hotcakes. 2. The man was a professor of linguistics at Oxford, not some midwestern housewife.

We should note that none of Tolkein’s heirs, with the possible exception of George RR Martin these days, is given the slightest respect by the literary establishment, no matter how many copies they sell.

I just feel this urge to stick up for literary fiction every time it’s bashed around in genre circles, just as I feel the urge to defend genre fiction when lit snobs try to take it down some pegs.

I agree and there are some literary fiction authors that I’ve very much enjoyed.  And you’re absolutely right, dysfunctional characters do make for more interesting reading, but I want to see them drag themselves OUT of the dysfunction.  Since romance is all about the HEA, you know that the characters are going to become healthier people by the end.  ALthough, whether they do a believable job of rehabiliting the character is a whole separate issue.

I was thinking of Laura Kinsale and Jennifer Crusie as two that should get a review on the NYT list.  And, of course, Nora.  (Actually, your list reminds me that I need to add Shana Abe to my TBR pile sometime soon.)

Darlene, does have a point.  Would any of us check the NYTimes Book Review for romance?  I’d be curious to know what percent of their readership would like a romance section.

Can someone define ‘literary merit’ for me?  I know what I think it means

ie, if I enjoy the book, it probably doesn’t have literary merit.  If I hate the characters, hate the story and want to slit my wrists by the last page, it’s oozing with literary merit.

Am I wrong?

Sherry, I think you’re absolutely right about your theory of the stage of romance as a genre (and it’s a fascinating idea), but as to your comment on “the defining parameter of monogamous HEA,” I have to disagree with you as to that being new.  That’s what Richardson’s Pamela and Austen’s Pride and Prejudice and Persuasion and Bronte’s Jane Eyre and the other Bronte’s Wuthering Heights is all about.  And all/most of Shakespeare’s comedy.  And if they’re not the most canonical of canonical Lit-er-a-chure, then tell me what is.

You know, I’d just like to add Anne Bronte’s Tennants of Wildfell Hall to that list.  I actually like that better than Wuthering Heights.  A woman who leaves her rakehell husband and creates a new life…in the 1800s…shocking. 

Also someone above pointed out theat there’s a lot of books getting reviewd as either straight literary or female-oriented fiction that are romances without a huge HEA.

I was thinking that.  Are there novels out there that come under the heading of literature, but could just as easily be classified as romance?  What about the Time Traveler’s Wife?

Can someone define ‘literary merit’ for me?  I know what I think it means

Am I wrong?

Well, to me literary merit means that the book explores deeper issues, either social, political, or something about the human condition.  There are themes in the novel and metaphors that add a richness to the text.  I mean, I was all gushing about Meljean Brook’s Demon Moon because I felt that the hero’s inability to use mirrors and his obsession with self-portraits mirrored (ha!) his emotional turmoil.  It was the sort of thing I could discuss and dissect at a later date.  But not something I often find in romance novels.

The truth is, I think that a book should be enjoyable to read.  To me that’s the most important attribute.  If the story is boring no amount of gorgeous prose or deep meaning is going to save it.

There is a post on Galley Cat which nominates Mary Bly/Eloisa James as a viable candidate for the romance reviewer’s slot on the NYT BR. I must admit that she was the first one I thought of when I read the post here.

Kay

OK,
then thats one of my snipes.  It seems that most of the books I’ve read with literary merit either were written by those who didn’t know their subject very well (like the human mind) and/or the books were the trying so hard not to be pleasant reading they were the equivalent of eating broken glass.

Which in my life has become the marker.  Great literature= miserable reading.

Great reading= bad literature (but to snobs who like being miserable).

IOW, if it’s a book I enjoy, keep, read every year, pass on to friends, wear out from reading passages over and over and in general—- gush about…it probably has no literary merit.

Books I hate, won’t even go to the movie, barely finish, give me nightmares, make me up my anti-depressants and I’m not surprised when I find out the author has a drinking problem, kicks puppies and hates his life….have literary merit.

to me literary merit means that the book explores deeper issues, either social, political, or something about the human condition.  There are themes in the novel and metaphors that add a richness to the text.

Yes, I’d agree with that. And I think a lot of romances do this, but it hasn’t been recognised, which is something those of us who are ‘Romance Scholars’ are trying to change.

I think for me, what I love about the genre’ is it deals with emotions, behaviors and relationships.  There are those gifted writers who can open windows into certain behaviors and actions.

What has been the most wonderful for me is
a.  Having ‘my’ memories reborn in a sense (being in love, etc).
b.  Seeing other characters respond to and help someone with major personality flaws or quirks.

The rest is peanuts.

I’m a romance reader, and I totally disagree that NYT Book Review are “elitist douchebags”.  How is saying that going to further a discussion?  It’s embarrassing to see such a defensive response.  It just says, “we can’t argue the case on its merits so we’ll throw rocks.”  Especially when Garner’s tone was very polite.

Count me among those who saw no sneer whatsoever in Garner’s “Who is the Lionel Trilling of romance critics? Maybe we should hire that person, whoever he or she is.”

If the answer is, There isn’t one… that says something about how little Romancelandia values itself.  As a reader, I’m offended at that.  You think romances should be taken seriously in the world of fiction?  Fix the crap covers, do a little copy editing, don’t chop the guts out of books to make them fit in a purse.  Can’t have it both ways: if romances aren’t fluff beneath critics’ notice, then they should be worth making the effort.

There’s a reason I read literary fiction.  I can expect a high quality of writing, interesting themes, and less predictability than in romance.  “Oh no!” you cry, “there isn’t a HEA!”  Sure there’s lit fic with a HEA.  If you read the cover copy, read the first 10 pages in the store, read the damn reviews (all the things you would do for a romance, yes?) you can figure out which lit fic will work for you and which will just piss you off.

My point?  Romance readers trying to ghettoize TBR as elitist is no better than the NYT ghettoizing our choice of reading as mindless pap.

Thank you, RfP.

On another romance genre site I recently asked the question: what has happened to the great (vs the good) romance novel? The overwhelming response was that romance readers (and writers) like the genre just the way it is, and if I want great I should go read Literature with a capital L. I think there’s some great romance writers out there writing good books, but I’m still waiting for one of those great writers to write a great book. My nominee? Jennifer Crusie. Falling in love is the stuff of great literature. It has been in the past, and I hope it will be again. I think Jennifer Crusie is the romance writer with the chops to write the book that NY Times reviews because it simply cannot be ignored, not because a little section on the genre was reluctantly included in TBR.
I love the Book Review, and would love a Romance section that reviewed the best of the genre. And I mean The Best. How many romance readers do you think have a computer, and thus have access to sites like this? Do you know how many “Savage Moons” I had to subject myself to in order to find the pearls in that huge mountain of horse manure? Thank you, husband, for this computer. Thank you, Smart Bitches, for all those reviews. Yeah, I’d love to see that section in TBR, preferably written by someone with a great knowledge of the genre, a respect for the genre, high expectations for the genre, and a kick-ass sense of humor. Takers anyone?

to me literary merit means that the book explores deeper issues, either social, political, or something about the human condition.  There are themes in the novel and metaphors that add a richness to the text.

Yes, I’d agree with that. And I think a lot of romances do this, but it hasn’t been recognised, which is something those of us who are ‘Romance Scholars’ are trying to change.

I thinks some romances do this, but my experience suggests that this is a minority group.

Part of the problem, IMO, is that romance readers in general aren’t interested in reading deep books.  They want the HAWT studly men and HAWT sex.  This is escapist reading, so complex characterization and symbolism in the narrative is either unrecognized or of no interest.  Clearly, I’m not describing the group here, but I don’t think we’re the norm.

I think Jennifer Crusie is the romance writer with the chops to write the book that NY Times reviews because it simply cannot be ignored, not because a little section on the genre was reluctantly included in TBR.

Jennifer Crusie has been reviewed by the New York Times, here. The reviewer wasn’t particularly positive about it. Eric Selinger and I are editing a volume of academic essays on Crusie’s work. And Sarah Frantz and Eric are editing another volume which will be about various aspects of the genre, from a romance-positive point of view.

This is escapist reading, so complex characterization and symbolism in the narrative is either unrecognized or of no interest.

What’s interested me as I’ve spent time reading and analysing romances is discovering how much ‘unrecognized’ stuff there is. For example, I found symbolism in a novel by Betty Neels and that type of symbolism underlying the story is really quite typical of what I’ve found in many other romances. The uses of clothing and fashion in romance, for example, have tended to go unrecognised, and the same can be said for descriptions of homes/home decorating (if you scroll down that post, you’ll find links to the posts in which I’ve followed up with analysis of homes in two romances, one a Harlequin Mills & Boon romance by Melissa McClone, the other a single-title by Lydia Joyce).

Candy—-
Does Jerzy Kosinski ring a bell? (OK, some folks you shouldn’t read when running a temp) ;)

Yeah, a lot of it was humor, but there is also a lot of truth (about me) in that if it’s a ‘literary hit’...I ain’t gonna read it….no no no no no!

What’s interested me as I’ve spent time reading and analysing romances is discovering how much ‘unrecognized’ stuff there is.

Do you think that this is a majority situation, or a minority?  I’ve had people swear up and down that there is deep meaning and Great Social Relevance to Laurell K Hamilton, but I think they’re smoking crack. 

I did skim through your links and you mention what I would consider the better romance authors.  I’m not arguing that there isn’t ANYTHING worth analyzing and discussing in romance novels, but that it’s a minority situation.

Interestingly enough, I did a quick browse at amazon for “best-seller romances” and they have Ian McEwan’s On Chesil Beach as number 1.  Makes me wonder what criteria they use for determining romance.

I’ll totally go on record for saying that a great deal of romance novels are mindless pap. We need to look at these clearly, admit these faults head-on, and MOVE THE FUCK ON and make progress.

AMEN!

Jepad, if romance readers weren’t interested in reading difficult books (I almost said “hard” hehehe), Laura Kinsale wouldn’t have made the best-seller lists as quickly as she did.  For My Lady’s Heart was in freaking Middle English!!!  Seize the Fire and Flowers from the Storm and The Shadow and the Star are not EASY books.

Neither is Crusie.  I guess she could be, but not really.  It takes work and time to read her, even if she’s hella enjoyable once you put in that work and time.

Do you think that this is a majority situation, or a minority? [...] I did skim through your links and you mention what I would consider the better romance authors.  I’m not arguing that there isn’t ANYTHING worth analyzing and discussing in romance novels, but that it’s a minority situation.

My reading isn’t necessarily representative of the whole genre because (a) I don’t go out of my way to read books or sub-genres I know I won’t like, and (b) I’m in the UK, where it’s trickier to get hold of single-titles, so the majority of my reading is Mills & Boon ‘Romance’, ‘Modern’ and ‘Historical’, with a few single-titles thrown in here and there.

In general I’ve enjoyed what I’ve read but it’s difficult to say how many of the novels have merit because (a) it’s subjective and (b) it may depend on whether I pick up on a particular issue or symbolism. There have been a lot of times when I’ve enjoyed the book, put it away and then come back to it weeks later because something sparked an idea. And a novel can be flawed, even very ‘badly written’ but still be interesting. In fact, some of the more ‘badly written ones’ could make it easier to spot a theme which might be overlooked in a better-written novel. For example, when Candy and Sarah read Cassie Edwards, it was really really clear just from reading the review that Edwards has a particular way of interpreting Native American culture. It might be that other romances in the same sub-genre share similar attitudes, but present them in a less overt manner.

I haven’t read Kinsale, so I can’t comment on those. But a novel can be a wonderful romantic read (which appeals to the average reader) AND have depth and social relevance (which appeals to the more discerning reader).  Dickens had mass appeal, but I’m not sure the majority of Victorian readers loved him for his social commentary.  They adored his characters.

I’ve read several Crusie books.  Even re-read a few of them.  I love them, they’re great.  But they were light reads for me.  I suppose you could argue that I must’ve missed something critical in the novels to say that.  But I spend my days reading scientific primary literature, so my definition of difficult reading is probably quite a bit different from most people’s.

The only romance recently that required some thinking on my part was Meljean Brook’s novels and I was thrilled at that.

And then you have MaryJanice Davidson who may be a fun read, but whose books have the depth of a puddle.  She also rocketed to the bestseller lists.

For the record, I believe that a romance novel of literary merit CAN have mass appeal.  But a great many romance novels with mass appeal have zero literary merit.  I think that when a literaty elitist glances over the romance best-seller section and sees the rippling abs on a Sherrilyn Kenyon cover they scoff at the whole genre.  They never imagine that there are some excellent novels amidst the droves of brain candy.  But clearly brain candy sells.

I wouldn’t have seen that sentence as dismissive and indicative of a rather casual, non-malicious sort of contempt… if it weren’t for these sentences that preceded them:

“We don’t have room to review so very many things we’d like to; is reviewing romances really the best use of our space? Can’t the readers who love them find news of them elsewhere?”

If I may quote myself:

Is Garner saying in part, “Romance is popular and widely available, so where’s the need to highlight it?”  This is where I disagree, because of the implicit assumption that “romance” is a narrow genre valued only by “romance readers” [....]

As for the idea that romance doesn’t need to be pimped in TBR, there’s all the more need in a ghettoized genre. When a genre is ignored by reviewers, some real gems are missed. It’s true, there’s a lot of bad romantic fiction out there; it can be hard to find the good stuff. But I find that’s true in every genre; all the more need for reviews.

Rfp said..“Fix the crap covers, do a little copy editing, don’t chop the guts out of books to make them fit in a purse…”

Okay, this ticked me off. This I imagine was a slam at category novels - some of which frankly are amazing books despite their size. Guess you have a thing against Jonathon Livingston Seagull too.

And I have to point out that one of those “little” books was recently nominated for a major *literary* award.

And Jepad said… “Do you think that this is a majority situation, or a minority?”

Just because *YOU* don’t read it (or into it as the case maybe) - doesn’t mean it isn’t there. And frankly it doesn’t mean that it’s there for ANY book.

I had a literature professor swear up and down that Ophelia in Hamlet was pregnant… I said prove it. He read into it and found something. I didn’t. Was it there? Who knows - but it’s the first question I plan to ask Bill when I get to Heaven.

My point is the study of literature is always looking for themes, symbolism, deeper meaning that readers ultimately THINK they find. Unless you can question the author you don’t know what he/she was dong.

I ALWAYS use symbolism. There isn’t an article of clothing, a piece of furniture that isn’t picked out for a very specific reason. Whether people see that or not I don’t care - that part is for me. I ultimately I just want them to enjoy the story.

But to suggest that the MAJORITY of us do not do our due diligence is an insult. To suggest that we don’t care about character growth… COME ON. Maybe we don’t execute. That’s different. Trying and failing happens all the time.

But I’m a nothing more than *little* category writer and I respect the craft.

I HAVE to believe that I am not alone.

Writers… back me up on this.

So many comments I haven’t had time to read yet, so I may be echoing someone else’s thoughts above, but as a women’s studies instructor, has anybody yet mentioned the whole “SF & Mysteries are good because men read them and Romance is less worthy because it’s just a women’s genre” argument? Not that anyone would make that argument aloud, but I wonder if there’s an underlying assumption about “good littrachure” being that stuff that appeals to men, since women’s pretty little heads can’t really appreciate it. Sort of the pink ghetto of writing, if you will.

Rfp said..“Fix the crap covers, do a little copy editing, don’t chop the guts out of books to make them fit in a purse…”

Stephanie said: Okay, this ticked me off. This I imagine was a slam at category novels - some of which frankly are amazing books despite their size. Guess you have a thing against Jonathon Livingston Seagull too.

No, it wasn’t a slam on categories.  I’m not even sure how what I said connects to categories.  Category novels are generally well edited, and the covers are decent compared to many romances.

If it’s just the size comment… it’s not absolute size that bothers me, it’s altering a book specifically to meet a size constraint.  I’m thinking of a number of authors who’ve been pressured to cut out substantial chunks of their books.  Like Rosina Lippi’s 50,000 words, and Marsha Canham’s missing 100 pages.

I ALWAYS use symbolism. There isn’t an article of clothing, a piece of furniture that isn’t picked out for a very specific reason. Whether people see that or not I don’t care - that part is for me. I ultimately I just want them to enjoy the story.

But to suggest that the MAJORITY of us do not do our due diligence is an insult. To suggest that we don’t care about character growth… COME ON. Maybe we don’t execute. That’s different. Trying and failing happens all the time.

If you do then I’m not talking about your novels.  I don’t have any idea who you are or what you write, so I can only take your word for it.

I’m suggesting that the majority of romance authors write fun, entertaining books that delve into the relationship of two people.  These are (in general) not great works of fiction that probe the human condition and will be read for generations to come. 

If yours include elements of symbolism and metaphor than that’s a wonderful bonus to the reader.

I think that romance authors do include a lot of character growth, if I stated somewhere that I thought that romance authors do not include this then I apologize.  Romance is essentially a genre of charcter growth. (But I’ve read enough reviews with the word one-dimensional character, to know that there are an inordinate number of books with poor characterization out there).

My intent is not to denigrate the good writers.  My statement was really addressing whether the majority of romance writers are producing novels that are of sufficient “literary merit” to warrant a NYT Book Review.  Candy kindly provided a list of some she thought were a good choice.

Okay - I’ll allow that I misread RfP’s comment about size as it related to books that have a limited word count - i.e. category.

A sentence I read into - which I misinterpreted - because of my own bias. I own that.

But this quote from Jepad…“I’m not arguing that there isn’t ANYTHING worth analyzing and discussing in romance novels, but that it’s a minority situation.”

That was what I was trying to address.

Maybe Jepad and others think it’s mostly fluff. Fine. I get that - it’s opinion. No big.

But you can’t know that the writer didn’t intend to make it more.

“Laziness, indifference and sloppiness are different things, by the way.”

I agree - so what are you accusing the majority of writers of being?

Maybe I’m wrong, naive, or too damn much of a pollyanna for my own good. But I think every time a writer sits down at her keyboard she does so with the intent that the book will be good, will have meaning, will show character growth, etc.

Even - dare I say - Cassie Edwards. I don’t know - maybe she’s stated publicly that she doesn’t care. That she intends to write crappy books. I’m no expert - I’ve never read more than what you’ve quoted on this site. But do we think that maybe *she* thinks it’s good?

Most of us write for peanuts. Suffer through rejection. Bad reviews. Blah, blah. I’m not complaining. I LOVE it. But…in a lot of ways it’s not the most fullfilling of jobs.

I can’t imagine anyone sitting down to do this with the aspiration that they’re going to write crap.

I think we all TRY. And I think many of us believe in our hearts that when we’re done we’ve succeeded - otherwise why give it to somebody else to read?

We work to the best of our ability - which yes can be limited -to make it the best it can be. And to put in it everything that makes a book great.

Maybe you believe the “majority” fails.

I don’t. Not the majority. I think there’s something that can be “discussed” in more than the ‘minority’ of romance books.

That’s all I wanted to say.

I think intention, though admirable, can legimitize works only so far. Because if say in the Cassie Edwards her intentions were so much more ambitious than her execution…well, what does it say about a genre of writers whose executions of their intentions is so far off the mark?

And before we start chewing up the writing, let’s forget the gatekeepers, the PUBLISHERS, the EDITORS, who decide what goes on the bookshelves. What they think of the genre in which they work?

TBR might consider that they could contribute to elevating the romance genre by putting a good reviewer (or essayist, as Galley Cat suggested) on it. A lot of good authors might work to become great authors if challenged by someone like TBR.
And I just have to put in my two cents about what makes fiction literary, beyond what everyone else has already said about employing metaphor and multi-layered storytelling and addressing larger issues of the human condition or vividly capturing a time and place: I consider a book at least approaching literary status if the author reaches beyond the first cliche that comes to mind to use fresh language and imagery. If I see a description that says anything about almond-shaped eyes or raven tresses, I can’t help doubting the story’s gonna be richly imagined because the language isn’t.

“My intent is not to denigrate the good writers…”

I read this after I posted. Jepad just for the record I don’t necessarily think you were.

You’re not slamming the genre… just pigeonholing it.

But yours is the opinion we work so hard to change. Or maybe not change… but make you aware.

The remarks about copy editing and covers - I can’t comment to that. That’s publishing’s job. And for the most part the people who rally to declare romance a legitimate genre are writers and readers of it.

I didn’t mean to come off as quite so militant - I’m not. I guess I just wanted to say that I think there are more books out there than you’re aware that have more… “omph”... I’ll call it.

But because of the stereotype, the preconceived notions, the prejudices that many (including the TBR) have these books never get their chance.

“My intent is not to denigrate the good writers…”

...You’re not slamming the genre… just pigeonholing it.

Pre-comment qualifications: 

1) I’m as irritated as the next person that the NY Times and other major newspapers review SF and fantasy but not romance—a genre that I think comprises roughly the same percentage of dren as romance does. 

2) I’m not an avid fan of litfic.  I don’t follow it as closely as I follow romance.  It’s not my first choice for a Friday night in by the fire. 

Those two qualifications made, I will opine that we are kidding ourselves if we think romance authors are *as* likely as litfic authors to turn out novels which, on the basis of their literary merit alone, are worthy of extended contemplation, analysis and reflection.  (I say this as an anthropologist of popular culture, so of course I think romances merit extended contemplation, reflection and analysis on other sorts of bases.) 

The reason for this, I suspect, is not necessarily because romance authors are less talented writers or less complex thinkers, or because romance readers just want “hawt trash.”  I think a large part of it is institutional: the NY publishers have a formula that works, and it is not a formula that encourages innovation or experimentation.  And romance writers have to make a living.  And they, like romance readers, conceptualize what a romance novel IS based on the romance novels they READ.  And that sell.  And that appeal to us when described in a review.  Which leads me to a point I’ll get to in a second.

Of course, other genres have formulas too, right?  But consider the different “hot button” phrases used to push books in different genres.  I hear SF books get marketed all the time in terms that emphasize their ground-breaking originality and the thought-provoking issues they raise.  I don’t hear romances being praised with these terms nearly as often.  Doesn’t that tell you something?  Rather, we hear about how moving the novel is, how romantic, how dark and angsty… how it immerses us in the period/place.  How it’s full of super-steamy sex scenes that’ll make your heart race.

This language of praise seems, to me, to offer a clue to the rules by which the institutional machinery operates to produce romance fiction.  Advertise a paranormal romance novel as “a book that raises truly thought-provoking issues about the fate of the human race” and it’s not going to make me sit up and say, “Hey, that sounds like a great romance!”  (OK, I would definitely be intrigued enough to buy it, but I probably wouldn’t do so because I thought I was getting a great romance.  After all, if it was a great romance, why wouldn’t they advertise it as such?  ...Do you see what I mean?)

This also, of course, implies that romance readers may not value originality in their romances as much as they value hawt sex.  I don’t think there’s anything wrong with this.  Then again, I don’t think originality is necessarily the key ingredient to a masterpiece, either.  Shakespeare plagiarized almost all of his plots.  And I don’t think hawt sex (that spelling is so hilarious, I’m going to abuse it) is incompatible with great fiction. 

But I do think the machinery we’ve got in this genre is less likely to produce great fiction than other genres, because I think our expectations of romance have been institutionally produced in a rather narrow and constraining way.  I’m sorry to say that, though—I’m a huge romance fan, and I’m too often disappointed by the books I buy.  :(

Sorry, that second paragraph in my comment should read

The reason for this, I suspect, is NOT because many romance authors are less talented writers or less complex thinkers, or because romance readers just want “hawt trash.”

bad sentence to have a typo in!  eek.

Hey, RfP, where’d you write that?

D’oh!  I forgot to link.  One person’s mistake is another’s tease, I guess :)

Yes, I gassed about TBR/reviews on Readforpleasure

Those two qualifications made, I will opine that we are kidding ourselves if we think romance authors are *as* likely as litfic authors to turn out novels which, on the basis of their literary merit alone, are worthy of extended contemplation, analysis and reflection.

Exactly.  That was what I meant to get across, but obviously failed to do.  I love romance, love reading them, and love discussing them. However, I rarely enter into a detailed discussion of the human condition based upon a romance novel. Sometimes…but not often.

And I suspect a reason for this is addressed by Emma’s other comment.

But I do think the machinery we’ve got in this genre is less likely to produce great fiction than other genres, because I think our expectations of romance have been institutionally produced in a rather narrow and constraining way.

People read romances with very definite expectations in mind.  They’re not necessarily looking for some thought-provoking work of genius.  They want to enjoy the burgeoning romance between two fascinating characters.  A good romance writer can work other elements into the novel (and I think that they add richness) but romance is constrained by what the publishing house wants and what sells.

Consequently great works of fiction in romance have to work within the expectations of the genre.

“I’m not arguing that there isn’t ANYTHING worth analyzing and discussing in romance novels, but that it’s a minority situation.”

Maybe Jepad and others think it’s mostly fluff. Fine. I get that - it’s opinion. No big.

I just want to make sure that I’m not misunderstanding your statement.  You believe that the majority of romance novels could be discussed and analyzed right alongside Bronte and Austen.  When I say “analyzing” I’m thinking more along the lines of how an English professor might analyze a novel.

Is there enough meaning in the majority of romance novels that they could be dissected and analyzed to that degree?  That’s what I’m getting at.

I feel like I should put another two cents in here.

I was reading Bronte and Danielle Steel at the same time. Which did I prefer? Steel. Why? Because it was more relevant to my life. Meaning I could connect with the characters because it was in my time, I didn’t have to wonder what in the heck the author meant. Was she a good author? Not so much, but it was spoke to me because I couldn’t understand Jane’s problems. I had my own that were vastly different and I found it hard to empathize.

I still have no idea what happened in The Heart of Darkness, even after reading it for two different classes. Bless Cliff Notes. And please don’t tell me. I’m sure I’ll have to suffer through it in another class at some point. Right now ignorance is a wonderful thing.

Granted, Conrad’s not a romance writer (thank god) but I feel the same way about romance books. Meaning in a hundred years, if anyone finds an old copy of say a Penny Jordan Harlequin, they probably won’t be able to relate to the situations in the book either. Heck, some of us can’t now. But the fact is that literary merit really is quite subjective.

I read Dickens in school, and really I think there was some romance in Great Expectations in a twisted way. But I didn’t find it interesting and had to drudge through it. And drudge I did. What makes it a literary merit to some people aren’t going to appeal to others. We read them in classes all the time (like Joyce, Wilde, or Twain), but what makes them special enough to be taught? Anything can be examined to death. Surely online fandom (pick a random one) has taught us that.

We all have different criteria because we’re all different people. Again, merit is subjective to our likes and tastes. Just because my British Lit professor loved Joyce doesn’t mean that the author has merit to me.

If that makes any sense.

Candy I’m glad you mentioned “mastery of language and skill in craft” as another criterion for judging literary merit. Literary fiction can be good for many reasons but one characteristic that I especially enjoy is an author who can play with language and the structure of the story. (J.R. Ward’s special spelling does not count.) Make the design of the story different and illuminating, even go meta - fictional (if you *have* to there’s nothing worse that masturbatory prose that’s meta, no god, there isn’t). I like authors who play with their style.

I must be a terrible reader but I don’t consider Crusie as good a writer as Charlotte Bronte. Admittedly I read my romances differently from the other stuff—and I don’t read very widely in romance these days—so I’ll re-read the Crusie books people often mention here and see what I’m missing. (And I’ll try Kinsale. I’m pretty sure I have one of her books around here somewhere.)

I can’t remember who mentioned J.R. Ward as a “genre-breaking” author but, haha, you were kidding, right? Right? :D

All that being said I certainly don’t see why Nora Roberts and Jennifer Crusie’s books could not be reviewed in the NYTBR. That rag reviewed a Stephen King book fucking three times, never mind Harry Potter, and lately gave the triple treatment to some pap on the late Princess Diana.

I suppose I’m the more humble sort of romance reader who believes that her favourite authors may not be and have no interest in writing what is considered to be litracha but who gives a bullocks?

I think there’s plenty to be discussed in the majority of romance novels, sure. Even when it’s not good, or even when it is (in Jepad’s words) as deep as a puddle, it’s worth talking about. And you can easily pick something up and run with it, and probably make it work decently well. That’s the beauty of lit crit, innit? I’m serious; I could probably write a five-page essay about Betsy’s Taylor’s shoe fetish and vampirism as a cutting commentary on contemporary consumer culture and its never-ending cycle of hunger for disposable goods.

I stand corrected. Even Betsy can be a springboard for fascinating discussion.  THAT crit would be 100 times more entertaining that reading about Betsy herself.

re. Kosinsky:  The Painted Bird

re. analysis of Romance.  Maybe we need to distinguish between the kind of analytical work that delves into a book on the issues of theme, metaphor, symbolism, etc. and the kind of analysis that discusses trends, motifs, tropes, etc. *within the genre*.  Lit crits do both, but the second type of analysis is often better suited to works of popular fiction.  Does this mean that those books are dumber?  NO. It just comes down to how a particular body of fiction is oriented and how it’s creating itself, so to speak.

re. originality and novelty, I think both terms are red herrings, of sorts, because IMO we can all mean different things when we use them, and I’m not even certain this is where we should set the quality bar.  For example, when I think of novelty, I tend to focus on an author’s narrative voice, because that’s the element of freshness that matters to me in a genre like Romance, where many of the core characters and themes and images are repeated because of the formalistic dictates of the genre.  As for originality, I tend to see originality in Romance as a particularly fantabulous “variation on a theme.”  Meljean Brook’s books, for example, contain numerous elements common to Romance, but I find her voice uniquely compelling and the way she handles those elements uniquely engaging.  Are they new, are they original?  Nope.  But the way she puts all the pieces together strikes *me* in a *new way*, even if that new way isn’t revolutionary, so I find novelty and originality in her work, even if the formalistic dictates of the genre depend on a certain mimetic familiarity.

What I find disappointing about much of Romance published these days is, as I’ve said on numerous occasions, its increasing reliance on genre shorthand—on bypassing what Emma, I think, referred to as the “development of love” (in the Demon Moon thread on AAR) for the thunderbolt of lust to sex to marriage 24-hour drive thru plot assembly kit.  I’m talking about the way “hairy” and “muscular” and “big” stand in for alpha, and the way the dainty but surprisingly sprightly red-haired woman = feisty but lovably shrewish heroine.  I think we’re careening to the point where the desirable forms of derivation are being replaced by other types of derivation (i.e. abbreviation rather than variation on a theme).  I understand that there are plenty of authors and readers who are perfectly happy with the way things are, but IMO that doesn’t invalidate the critical points people are making in these comments.  I think it’s more that the diversity of readership is finally at a point where it surpasses the diversity of Romance offerings, and what I can’t figure out is whether readers have changed, whether authors have changed, or whether the *industry* has changed.  As I’ve also said several times,  I think we’re deep in the muck of a massive collision between the genre of Romance and the industry of Romance such that I wonder sometimes if we’re losing the IMO crucial distinction between the two.

What makes it a literary merit to some people aren’t going to appeal to others. We read them in classes all the time (like Joyce, Wilde, or Twain), but what makes them special enough to be taught? Anything can be examined to death. Surely online fandom (pick a random one) has taught us that.

Are you seriously equating fandom criticism to literary scholarship? Seriously. I know that academic literary criticism has the image of being weighed down in theory and jargon etc. and some of this is true, but the best of it is eloquent, lucid and erudite that is reasonably stated. It illuminates the text and does not involve the sort of tedious analysis where every tall building is a penis and every night time animal is some reference to the Roman goddess Diana.

I’m throwing a question out there. Does anyone here think that if they don’t like a book that automatically means it was badly written, irrelevant,

here? There are writers that I’ve read and seriously wondered why on earth they’re ballyhooed and others where my reaction may have been muted, even negative, but I acknowledged that the author had succeeded, even excelled and what she was doing, it simply wasn’t my sort of read. In other words the fact that it has no merit for me would not, automatically, mean it was not “special” enough to be taught.

(Separate question at least for now: This may be a misconception on my part (I rarely look out for this kind of work) but doesn’t a great deal of fandom criticism, even romantic criticism, fall under cultural studies ie it studies the work relevant to its social context?)

and the kind of analysis that discusses trends, motifs, tropes, etc. *within the genre*

Ok yes, this is what I was beginning to get at. There are different theories of criticism that focus on different things and I agree with Robin that popular fiction suits one better than the other. So when we’re talking about “literary merit” and the sort of readings that would require don’t necessarily apply to romance because that’s not really what the authors are aiming for, it seems to me. But there is legitimate criticism (ie done in the academy) that is done on romance novels or on pop fiction more generally.

I’d just like to poke in here that though the romance establishment has always been pulling for Austen as an ancestor (and it’s not that I don’t agree, to a certain extent, so don’t chew me up) I’ve always though Ann Radcliffe was a better fit; or even the older chivalric romances. Yay or nay?

Does anyone here think that if they don’t like a book that automatically means it was badly written, irrelevant,

here?

Or is it that Romance reviewing and commentary has traditionally measured the success of a book on the primary basis of whether or not it’s “romantic,” not as an accumulated measure of craft, plot, character, writing, and emotional satisfaction.  Like how the RITA judging has no categories of evaluation or specific and delineated critera, either.

Are you seriously equating fandom criticism to literary scholarship? Seriously. I know that academic literary criticism has the image of being weighed down in theory and jargon etc. and some of this is true, but the best of it is eloquent, lucid and erudite that is reasonably stated. It illuminates the text and does not involve the sort of tedious analysis where every tall building is a penis and every night time animal is some reference to the Roman goddess Diana.

No, I’m just using the examples that I know. I’m not going to go through this with speaking of authors I haven’t read enough of, like Cruise or most of the mentioned romance authors actually. And most people that have been in college at least were forced to read some of those authors. So therefore wider audience to make my point.

I was reading classics on my own before I was 12. I started reading romance at 12, so hence the comparison about what I noticed and why I chose the romance author. I still maintain literary merit is subjective because people are subjective. It’s how we think, speak, react. It’s what we are. Typically we do everything to our standards, not a universal one.

(Separate question at least for now: This may be a misconception on my part (I rarely look out for this kind of work) but doesn’t a great deal of fandom criticism, even romantic criticism, fall under cultural studies ie it studies the work relevant to its social context?)

I have no idea since I typically don’t critic fandom. I mostly mock it when it’s acting stupid. But I know there are loads and loads of meta about various one. Heck, on LJ, there’s Metafandom, a community which links just to meta discussion about various issues and feedbacks on said issues (and not just media ones). And newsletters link to longass metas about stupid shit like “Why Rodney’s citrus allergies are REAL, damnit!” Do I read them? That’d a no, because it’s usually the same things retread. Romance fans are the no different.

Fandom not only critics the work, but itself, so at times it’s hard to follow the debates and arguments.

And let me perfectly clear about something else: I haven’t said one bad thing about the commentors in the comments, and quite frankly, being jumped on for my opinion when I was civil? Not exactly gonna make me want to talk to someone.

And no Candy, I’m not speaking of personal taste. I’m speaking of someone who has seen EVERYTHING under the sun talked to death, and that seems to be a criteria from the classes I took in Lit classes in college.

But I’ll quite willing bow out because I was simply stating my opinion. Not trying to start another fight in the comments.

Emma - you do make an excellent point.

BUT - I have to say I think it comes down to what we perceive as “literary merit” - which is unfortunately a hard question to debate.

To understand where I’m coming from you have to understand my definition.

Literary = great = longevity. A great book on MANY different levels. A book that will be talked about 100 years from now because it mattered.

I’m going to offer up a non-romance example because it’s easy relatable.

Harry Potter. Is it literature? Is it TBR worthy? Will people read this book 100 years from now?

To me it’s literature because it counts. To me Nora Roberts will be read in the future because her work mattered.

So I question when you say…

“But I do think the machinery we’ve got in this genre is less likely to produce great fiction than other genres…”

(I wish I knew how to do the italics thing but I don’t.)

GREAT fiction can come from any genre - ultimately I think it lies in the talent of the author. And maybe there is more to sift through with romance…but my fear is that BECAUSE it’s romance - and has a HEA - no one is looking for it to be great.

No one is going beyond that top layer. A layer that I believe exists.

Candy - that’s where my “intent” issue stems from. People have to be willing to look for it first. And to look for it you gotta believe that authors are building it in there. The “omph.”

Maybe I’m wrong about what other authors are doing - but I don’t know how you write a book without it. It’s all part of the decision making process.

Does it matter what the herione wears?

Yes.

I’m working on a book and I’m emphasizing the color cream in regards to the heroine to showcase reserve without having to say she’s reserved.

Let me say - I DO NOT hold myself up as some example. I struggle every day to make sure I’m improving. To make sure I’m worthy. My language skills and word choice… suck. I have no aspirations to be remembered or discussed.

But what upset was me in the course of the conversation was hearing (interpreting) that people don’t even realize that authors (and I stand by my majority rule) are considering the second layer.

For anyone who reads my book - are they going to look for the subtle cream references throughout and realize that my use of the color was symbolic of the herione’s forced projection of reserve -a result of a deep humliation that she suffered in her life.

No. Why? Because it’s “just a romance”.

And Japed - I’ll admit maybe the majority of romance books are not “classroom discussion” worthy. I think only a small % of ALL books ever will be.

But if we don’t shake the image that as a genre they’re not worthy - then we consign a lot of books to banishment that might have stood the test of time. That could be in my (possibly warped) defintion… literature.

As I read through all of these comments, I can’t help but think “hmmm… maybe TBR has reviewed romance, they just don’t know it.”

We can argue the various literary merits of the novels on the romance shelves, but the fact is, those shelves don’t always hold all of the novels I think would belong there. If we take a look carefully at some of the “regular” fiction books on the shelves, I’m sure we’d all pull titles we thought fit better in romance. I think someone mentioned Nicholas Sparks (although I really despise his novels, and if anyone wants to talk about formulaic, look no further) and Anita Shreve and The Time Traveller’s Wife, not to mention “classics” authors like the Brontes and Austen.

So, maybe the answer is not to expect TBR to save Romance by reviewing it, maybe the answer is to call a book what it is. If more people referred to those examples as romance, maybe the genre as a whole would lose a little of its stigma. And maybe if that happens, TBR will review it by choice.

As I read through all of these comments, I can’t help but think “hmmm… maybe TBR has reviewed romance, they just don’t know it.”

Katie, that’s exactly my thought.  Romance is pervasive in fiction, and has been for a long, long time.  I would call much of my reading romantic, and some of it “R"omantic in the 19th-Century sense.  Much of what I enjoy is character-driven fiction, often with major female characters; but it’s not marketed as “genre” romance.

I think these books slip under the radar primarily because they don’t have “genre” romance publishing houses or recognizable “romance” covers.  The expectations game really is that simple.  Harlequin covers have remarkable brand power; it’s a very smart move for customer recognition.  At the same time, that strong branding sets up specific expectations in book sellers and reviewers, not just buyers.

We can argue the various literary merits of the novels on the romance shelves, but the fact is, those shelves don’t always hold all of the novels I think would belong there

Agreed, again.  In fact I would say that part of the ghettoization of the romance genre is due to the industry’s attempts to define romance, including the insistence on a HEA.

Mind you, there are some excellent business reasons for the romance industry’s tactics; genre book buyers like to go straight to “their” section of the store.  But the very act of separation leads to ghettoization.  “Genre” romance has so successfully set itself apart from literary romance, romantic suspense, historical fiction, etc, that it’s no wonder reviewers treat it differently.  Whenever these discussions come up, I fear we’ll end up in the ludicrous position of screaming “Don’t associate us with those other romance forms” and then begging to be re-incorporated into the larger body of work to regain credibility.

Candy said, “New question! So, who’s literary and light-hearted? Are P.G. Wodehouse and Jerome K. Jerome considered literary?... Which modern lit fic authors write comedy, or focus on the comic? I’m not really coming up with any names right now, but that’s likely due to my personal tastes.

“Age-old question: Why are angst and pain considered of greater literary merit than comedy? And is it a recent development in literature? Inquiring minds want to know.”

Hokay, I haven’t read Jerome K. Jerome, but I have read P.G. Wodehouse and would classify him as a writer of comic literature.  As for current writers, the examples I come up with are Michael Chabon’s The Wonder Boys; John Kennedy Toole’s brilliant A Confederacy of Dunces; Jasper Fforde’s The Eyre Affair; Christopher Moore’s Lamb.  Notice a pattern here.  These are men. 

There are hysterically funny women writers.  I like Sophie Kinsella, Katy Munger, Sparkle Hayter, Lauren Henderson, and many others.  Many funny women focus more on genre writing, or get classified as genre writers than as comic literary fiction writers.

Women writers with lit cred just don’t seem to care too much about writing humorous books.  I think they are critically rewarded for writing about angst and suffering, so they go that route.

Either that, or they’re just not funny.

Angst and pain are more easily recognizable as valid literary topics, which doesn’t automatically give them more literary value.

As you and Sarah know all too well:  dying is easy; comedy is hard.

Katie - I mentioned Nicolas Sparks. I think he is a romance novelist. I just don’t think he’s a very good one.

Part of my frustration stems from the fact that because he’s man, because he kills characters - he’s different. He’s more worthy.

You and I agree. I don’t think he is.

Mind you, there are some excellent business reasons for the romance industry’s tactics; genre book buyers like to go straight to “their” section of the store.

ahhh… but you see, herein lies the point. Take another look through the comments here. we are the genre book buyers, and it certainly looks to me like most of us would like to see those “romance outliers” come back into the fold. I mean, raise your hand if you would have Jane Austen’s babies if you could. I would be overjoyed if they shelved her front and center in the romance section where I think she really belongs.

And back to the discussion of the percentage of romance drivel… if you take a step back and reassess what novels you consider romance, I think you will find that the total number of books grows, and the percentage of “crap” so to speak, shrinks. If I think of my top 5 or so novels of all-time, every single one of them, at the very least, has strong romantic themes and none of them are shelved in the romance section.

So, maybe the tactic should not be hounding print reviewers to incorporate more romance into their reviews, but to thank them the next time they do review one of these books that’s masquerading as mainstream fiction. Maybe the resulting argument of whether or not Memoirs of a Geisha is romance or not, and what other romance authors have complementary work, would go further in breaking genre stereotypes than the types of arguments that have been going on lately.

Not that I mind the Smart Bitch Smackdowns.

Katie - I mentioned Nicolas Sparks. I think he is a romance novelist. I just don’t think he’s a very good one.

Never fear, Stephanie. I gathered that was your opinion and was merely seconding it.

Has anyone seen the Seinfeld with Elaine and the English Patient? The Notebook is my English Patient.

To steal from CS Lewis, sorrow is the price tag for joy…..happiness is like a diamond that shines best against the black burlap of tragedy.  You get the picture.  The most joyous, funny folks I know have lived lives that would make you weep in empathy.

But some humans think that the burlap is more important than the resulting diamond. 

I was in a writer’s group a while back, and I’m not exaggerating when I say out of 12, 11 were telling ‘their story of triumph over tragedy’.  If my eyes had rolled anymore during those sessions they would have thought I was having seizures.  But, our ‘famous author coach’ kept saying “Your story must be told, write through the pain!” 

Bullfeathers!!

I’m not belittling their stories, just that we feel we don’t have value unless we can say “Wow!  I’m an (abuse, rape, incest, drug, alcohol, Home Shopping Network Survivor) and I amazing!”

Well that’s just fine hun!  So am I and so are about 98% of the population who’s name isn’t Paris Hilton.  So, instead of focusing on that, lets move on to step two.

Setting that diamond.

Which is where I place comedy, romance etc….the step BEYOND the tragedy and crap that makes us human.  That embracing of love, passion, humor etc because we know just how rare, special and dear they are…...

I stand by what I said when I say that either an author hasn’t lived and wants to to create darkness (lots of semi-goth vamp types come to mind), or they’ve let the horror of their lives define them….Kosinski aces that. 

Either way, they’re cowards.  They’re still writing through the pain instead of living for those few precious moments before they croaking.  And croaking comes damn quick BTW.

Either way, I agree.  Dying, death, darkness, drama, dread and the whole friggin ‘human condition’ schtick are easy.  Finding joy after burying the bodies and mopping up the blood is heros work.

PS,
and most male “romance” authors kill off their characters….I take it is part of the lack of commitment gene.

I don’t want to take the time or space to try to string these together into a reasoned discussion, so I’ll just offer some opinions and observations:

* Literary fiction survives in the canon because of both the skill and quality of its writing, the profundity of its story or message, and its social and/or political relevance. While books don’t always achieve brilliance on all these fronts, they’ll never make it if they don’t score well on at least two, or score brilliantly on at least one.

* Fiction which makes it into the literary canon is not always great fiction, IMO. However, the fiction which stays there a long time tends to do so because it’s brilliantly written and contains subjects profoundly considered by the author. (Whether these subjects appeal to you or interest you as a reader is another topic.) We all know of books which we are forced to read/teach in school because the authors are “hot” or “relevant” at the time. In my experience, these fade from the canon to be replaced by the newest “relevant” authors. (See Judith Guest)

* The NYT considers its reviewing of a book as granting its imprimatur as “good literature.” Right or wrong, they’re not going to review romance unless “romance” comes out of the ghetto. I’m not sure we can blame them for placing the romance genre there in the first place, and I don’t know if it’s really their role to help it get out. If they do review a book which I consider to be a romance, you can bet it’s one that’s published/marketed as “women’s fiction,” “chic lit” or simply fiction. (See Jane Smiley, Elizabeth Berg, Anita Shreve, Barbara Delinsky, et. al.)

* I agree that books that fall outside of the “rules” of genre romance often end up on a different shelf in the bookstore. For example, it puzzled me recently to see Anita Shreve and Jennifer Weiner shelved with Literature and Fiction at my bookstore, along with Dame Dorothy Dunnett, who is my favorite romance author of all time. (Well, besides the divine Miss Austen.) Somehow, it seems if a book is considered to have literary merit it is deemed too good for the Romance section. Does this simply imply that it will appeal to a wider readership? Or is the old “pink ghetto” rearing its ugly head? Don’t know.

* I must admit I buy and read romance novels with very different expectations than I do mainstream or even “women’s” fiction, and generally these expectations are reinforced by the books themselves. I enjoy both, but for very different reasons.

BTW, have to say I just recently found this site while Googling for “I hate Christine Feehan.” But that’s another story. I’m slowly working my way through your archives, and all I can say is you guys are THE WOMEN, man! (hee hee) Thanks for being a very cool, very funny, and very intelligent place on the web.

Take another look through the comments here. we are the genre book buyers, and it certainly looks to me like most of us would like to see those “romance outliers” come back into the fold.

This goes back to the question of how representative this site is of romance readers in general.  My local bookstore says they shelve “genre” romance separately because publishers and customers want it that way.  Is it just squeaky-wheel phenomenon, i.e. they’re speaking up and we aren’t?  I don’t think so.  If all romance readers shared my buying patterns, the contents of the shelves would look vastly different.

What a fascinating discussion.  I’ve got many thoughts, but not enough juice in the brainbox to do more than go to a couple of the off topic-ish things and chew on them:

Poison Ivy: I adore Dirda and miss his online chats dreadfully.  Do you know if he’s still doing online reviews and interactions?  I try to find him periodically, but I have no Google-fu powers and always fail.

Marta Acosta:  I have tried and failed to get into A Confederacy of Dunces a few times, which kind of speaks to that subjective opinion concept others have covered in this discussion. 

But it makes me wonder: at what point does an agreement of several subjective opinions create a kind of objective opinion?  Because I have a half-formed thought that that’s really the only difference between what books stand the test of time vs. the books that don’t: enough people *saying* it should stand the test of time even if several more people would disagree.  (I’m not attempting to attack Confederacy specifically here and say it doesn’t deserve the praise it receives, because there are plenty of “classics” I don’t like even though the scholars have told me I’m supposed to so I’m willing to admit it’s all just me, it’s only that your comment made it convenient for me to ponder this point).

Holy crap, bitches. Could I have sounded any more pompous? No. No I couldn’t. Asshat that I am, I decided to submit the damn post *before* I proofed it. (Talk about an ohnosecond.) So, now you know how much of an idiot I sound when I’m stuck up my own ass, talking to myself, right?

Anyway, I didn’t mean to do that. What I *meant* to do was respond to the thread in general and sort of stream-of-consciousness, then go back and add specific references to the posters I was responding to. (What I was responding to mostly was Stephanie, Najida and RfP back-and-forthing on the literary litmus test and Katie’s remarks about shelving.)

Oh, hell. Even I think I sounded like a total wanker. Sorry. Picture me in the corner now, wearing the asshat. Some schadenfreude for Sarah’s b-day! It’s on me.

Hee hee hee!  Nice asshat… wanker! ;)

Age-old question: Why are angst and pain considered of greater literary merit than comedy? And is it a recent development in literature? Inquiring minds want to know.

Actually, Candy, I read somewhere (in the forward to a Beverly Nichols book, I believe) that in the 50’s or 60’s, publishers started pressuring their fiction writers to produce grittier, more “realistic” novels, saying that the taste for fantasy (in the lightest sense of the word, not the genre) and whimsy had gone out of fashion. You see changes in various works from around that time, Nichol’s stuff as well as the work of writers like Barbara Pym.

That may be part of the reason for a lack of lightness in Lit Fic that’s taken seriously.

Mind you, I’ve not tried very hard to verify this, so someone else may have a better perspective.

Or is it that Romance reviewing and commentary has traditionally measured the success of a book on the primary basis of whether or not it’s “romantic,” not as an accumulated measure of craft, plot, character, writing, and emotional satisfaction.  Like how the RITA judging has no categories of evaluation or specific and delineated critera, either.

Why are you so smart Robin? May I have your babies, please? I think that’s precisely it and it’s another point I was getting at—is there really a significant number of readers and writers who want the shift to change? I know that us readers are known for getting down on anyone who trashes our genre, but we’re just as quick to pipe up that “hey, it’s just entertainment!”.

Jess I, in no way, was attacking you personally. I tend to be a passionate arguer but it was only in response to your opinion, not to you personally (I don’t equate the two). I may have jumped on your point, but it was the point I was getting at.

As for comedy in fiction there was a great article on the status that comedy had in previous times and how around early 20th C realism came to trump the day and push us all to slit our wrists (as some would say, at any rate). It’s here with even better commentary by Daniel Green: http://noggs.typepad.com/the_reading_experience/2007/05/index.html

I linked to his blog post because he argues that there has been a lot of great comic literary fiction recently.

One author I don’t think he mentioned was Steve Stern whose books are hilarious, irreverent, entertaining, and basically all kinds of awesome. I’m surprised that no one mentioned Philip Roth as he’s known for bringing out the funny. The man riffed on Kafka’s metamorphosis but turned his protagonist into a breast, for crying out loud. Book is called “The Breast”. And the first page of “Sabbath’s Theater” had me chuckling. Chris Abani’s “Graceland” was a great balance of the comic and sombre.

I’m an avid reader of literary fiction and while the books may not be all be comic or have happy endings, the fact they feature a lot of sombre events does not make them in and of itself depressing. Chimamanda Adichie just won the Orange Prize for her novel on the Biafra war—certainly not a happy-go-lucky subject but it’s written with hope, despite everything, because that’s how she writes it. She focuses on the characters involved, which is her strong suit because she writes with a lot of empathy.

David Treuer wrote what one could certainly argue was a romance, complete with HEA and everything: “The Translation of Dr. Appelles: a Love Story”. It does get all meta fictional but in a good not an annoying, wtf-was-he-thinking way.

There’s Alan Hollinghurst too. I’ve only read his “The Swimming-pool Library” but it’s clear that he had a ball writing each and every page. Yes, there’s conflict and some twisted moments (who wants to read about normal, happy adjusted people? Not romance readers with their tortured heroes) but there is also gay sex for miles. Explicit, erotic, gay sex and lots of it bless his heart.

So that’s me on non-depressing lit fic authors! And now I’m going to finish what I want to say in another comment because this one got way too long.

I’m not sure I’d pit Crusie head to head with Bronte, either. I will say she’s as good as Mrs. Radcliffe. However, it’s been ages since I’ve read Jane Eyre. I’ll need to re-read before I can make a good argument either way.

See, I re-read Jane Eyre a couple of months ago and I’m still on a high. I’d go out there and say Jennifer Crusie is *way* better than Mrs. Radcliffe on a lot of fronts.

I do know your views on taste vs. literary merit, but I was a bit wary of the discussion going down the “everything is awesome” path.

Well, that’s all I had to say. I feel dumb for double commenting now.

is there really a significant number of readers and writers who want the shift to change? I know that us readers are known for getting down on anyone who trashes our genre, but we’re just as quick to pipe up that “hey, it’s just entertainment!”.

EXACTLY!! 

I’d go out there and say Jennifer Crusie is *way* better than Mrs. Radcliffe on a lot of fronts.

I’ve been trying to avoid the so and so is better than so and so comments, but I will say that I think bringing these two authors into your comments together is a good reminder of the popular roots of Gothic fiction and the social slings and arrows it suffered, as well. 

I’d also add to the list (was it your suggestion, Arethusa?  I’ve lost track now with so many comments) of women authors/writers who are part of the trajectory to contemporary genre Romance, submitting Aphra Behn, Anne Bradstreet, Phyllis Wheatley, Fanny Burney, Mary Shelley, Margaret Fuller, George Eliot, the Beecher sisters (Catharine Beecher and Harriet Beecher Stowe), Lydia Marie Child, Sojourner Truth, Mary Jemison, Harriet Jacobs, Elizabeth Gaskell, Louisa May Alcott, Sarah Orne Jewett, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, Willa Cather, and many more I can’t even remember off the top of my head.  Compare, for example, Gilman’s Herland with Dara Joy’s Ritual of Proof.  Or Radcliffe’s Mysteries of Udolpho with Sandra Schwab’s Castle of the Wolf.

There are lots of male authors, too (Richardson, Fielding, Defoe, etc.), but I don’t feel like listing them.  They get enough attention, eh?

And as an aside, I don’t understand why anyone here thinks their comments are stupid.

. I’m increasingly disappointed with the shrinking pagecounts and correspondingly rapid attachments that the hero and heroine tend to form in recent years; I’m pretty sure THAT’s not my imagination.

Nope.  Relevant case in point is Loretta Chase, who recently admitted that her count was cut.  You asked in your review of NQAL what happened, and my mental response was “Avon?”—and I was only half joking to myself.  Shrinking page count?  Hell yeah.  Not that great short books cannot be written (Sharon and Tom Curtis, anyone?).  And not that great short books can’t be written under severe time constraints.  But how many great short books can be written under those circumstances, and how motivated are publishers and editors and authors to do what it takes to make that happen?

I also just want to point out re. Kosinski that there is a good deal of controversy around his work, especially The Painted Bird, the work of great suffering for which he is most noted.  Wiki has a pretty good summary:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jerzy_Kosinski

As for comedy in fiction there was a great article on the status that comedy had in previous times and how around early 20th C realism came to trump the day and push us all to slit our wrists (as some would say, at any rate). It’s here with even better commentary by Daniel Green

That’s a great find, Arethusa.  Interesting that comedy made a comeback in the 1960s.  I was thinking today about post-WW II changes in (American) attitudes toward the arts, and now I’m curious about cross-pollination.

Up until the 1950s, individual arts patronage was still a common mode of support: certainly for visual artists, and to a lesser degree for classical music.  Then came the era of the celebrity starving artist; Jackson Pollock dying in poverty; and the outsider-chic of neither having, nor seeking (visibly, at any rate) “institutional” support.  (Outsider-chic has been around for a long time, but it’s crescendoed in the public’s romantic imagination over the last 50 years.)

At the same time, the 1960s was the period of the “Great Society” federal programs; the creation of the National Endowment for the Arts; the corporatization of many symphony orchestras; and in general the institutionalization of arts support.  Some of the artists’ (and public’s) increasingly negative reaction to commercial success or sponsorship may be both a defiant thumbing of noses in the face of the drying-up of traditional private patronage, and a rejection of the new bureaucratic, institutional forms of support.  Certainly today’s frequent accusations of “selling out” are strongly tied to commercialization.

I was specifically thinking about anti-establishment artistic mores and satire, because of Mary Gordon’s book Spending (I’d recommended it earlier in this thread as an example of literary erotic romance).  Gordon’s protagonist acquires a patron in the most, er, old-fashioned sense of the word; did she sell out, or did she do the smart thing?  Her art takes a more commercially viable turn; did she sell out, or create satire/commentary?

Ah well, it’s late.  Maybe there’s no connection at all.  Or maybe the best explanation is… hey man, it was the 60s.  Chill and share the love.

Yikes, Arethusa. I recall actually choosing to do a paper on Theodore Dreiser in high school. (Why yes, I am batshit insane.) Talk about unrelentingly depressingly gritty reality. Dreiser was one of the Naturalists, which puts him during the 1920s, I think, but feel free to scoff in my general direction if I’m way off. So, Candy, that would put him somewhere between the two WWs, like you said. I read three or four of his books for that paper, and I don’t recall a lighthearted passage in any of them. What’s even scarier is I kinda liked his stuff. Maybe it appealed to the depressive emo adolescent I was.

Dave Barry has written some fiction which I find hilarious, but I’d hardly call it literary. Wracking my brains trying to think of funny lit fic. I guess you could say Tom Robbins was pretty consistently funny. Saul Bellow’s Augie March was funny as I recall. And if you go for that frat boy yuppy elitist dickhead humor, you’d probably think Updike’s Rabbit books were hi-larious.

Robin, I meant to say earlier that I agree with you that the romance books I’ve read lately have the relationships telescoped to a ridiculous degree. There’s always been a certain amount of the “lurve at first sight” nonsense and instant soul-mates, just add oral sex, but it seems worse lately. Maybe that’s because I have had years of reading this stuff now and it seems especially tired to me. Not sure. I’m definitely noticing it more, and it bugs. I also notice that romance authors frequently cheat the story by using a sort of romance shorthand, in which they’ll reference a storyline from a classic. For example, in Mr. Impossible, Chase mentions the back story of the heroine’s marrying an elderly, misogynistic scholar and it seemed to me to be a clear allusion to Eliot’s Middlemarch where Dorothy inexplicably marries the soul-sucking Casaubon. I actually liked the tactic in this case, but I’ve read other books where the authors seem to set up characters as little more than literary paradigms, and expect the reader to fill in all the nuances from reading the classics upon which the paradigms were based.

I can’t imaging why publishers are forcing page cuts. There’s nothing I love better than a nice thick book. Um, did I say that out loud?

Gotta love The Book Review. I must say, I have never bought a book because it made their list of pretentious reviews.

I like what I like, and since I don’t find it there, I don’t go there.

Thankfully there isn’t a Lionel Trilling of the romance world. I imagine they’d hire some dried up piece of rawhide to write staunch, respectible reviews. Every romance that dared to grace the page would sound as exciting as sawdust. Boy, wouldn’t that be a credit to the genre?

Submit the word…
*hell13* Ha!

That’s…breathtaking….. I wouldn’t even venture to guess anything about her motivations or her personality based solely on her books.

Erm, I apologize Candy, I guess I wasn’t clear…. That isn’t even close to what I meant.  I have NO idea who anyone is when they write.  What I’m saying is life is a bitch, why add more misery?  Why write stuff that only adds to the darkness?  Even if your life was/is dark and horrible….from a sanity POV, writing about it only makes it worse for some (versus betting past it).

I’m not saying that it ‘stories don’t need to be told’, but damn….

I’m just tired of sad stories all day long….that’s my job.  Granted, it’s more therapuetic and second string, but with my own history——somewhere between the underweight damaged kids, the teen with an eating disorder and the 60 year old who does twisted things with her PB &Js….I’m burnt. 

Then I turn on the TV and its more sad horror.  Then I pick up a great read (so to speak) and its more of the same.

I honestly can’t fathom in this world of so much misery, why anyone would want to write MORE misery.  And then people call it great.  I’m both flumoxed and angry.  Then I wonder just how much folks really know—- and yes, there does appear to be an oppositional corelaltion (we embrace the difference).

Why doesn’t creating joy have the same weight and value? 

That’s all.  Kosinski was just the first one I thought of, that’s all.  Please accept my apology Candy.

Thank you.

re: page counts and Ms. Chase:

According to Amazon, Mr. Impossible was 320pp and NQAL was 384. So…I don’t know, maybe Avon uses super huge fonts, but that argument doesn’t seem to quite hold.

Anyway, not the point. I think that originality c. novely comes down to the feeling that something unexpected happened. Whether it’s a book, movie, tv show—there’s just this feeling that you haven’t seen something quite like it before. And I think that many people believe that “unexpected” and “genre” can’t coexist. Which is patently untrue, but there you have it.

Whenever someone criticizes romance to me, it usually comes down to one thing—you know what’s going to happen, so what’s the point? People have made the arguments about Shakespeare, etc., so I won’t get into it, but I think a lot of people just can’t get past that. And I think that where mystery has managed to slip through is, though you know the mystery will be revealed, you don’t know who did it. Romance=hero and heroine end up together (generally). And I think it’s that specificity that naysayers just can’t let go of when they’re saying “it’s all the same, so why bother?”

As far as all the dark angsty lit. fiction, just look at Hollywood. How many actresses win awards for being funny? Put on a fat suit, play a tortured character, win an Oscar. I think there’s a belief that being dark is harder than being funny (which…no), and therefore, if you pull it off, obviously you have achieved a GREAT THING.

I’ve read other books where the authors seem to set up characters as little more than literary paradigms, and expect the reader to fill in all the nuances from reading the classics upon which the paradigms were based.

I know that Sarah and Candy have created a certain connotation in the idea of Romance mad-libs, but I think of many books I read as Romance mad-libs, too, in a somewhat different way.  IMO, with page counts shrinking, part of the burden of the novel-writing craft is being shifted more and more to readers—we have to fill in blanks and flesh out characters or worldbuilding and make critical links between plot points. And because so many Romance readers have read so much Romance, I think this process becomes almost unconscious, to the point where readers don’t recognize they’re being asked to do this, don’t have to struggle with it, and therefore don’t have any reason to think that they’re actually taking on a certain element of what I think is the author’s job in delivering a complete and coherent—and hopefully somewhat distinctive—vision.

Stacey, all I have to go on is what Loretta Chase said on AAR a few months ago:

Regarding what happens to authors at Avon, I can only speak from my own experience. I had a shorter word count in this contract than in previous ones. The other historical authors I communicate with have had the same experience, regardless of publisher. All of us are hearing that the books need to be sexy, but no one’s been telling me I need to do more than what I usually do. Not Quite a Lady, is, I think, a more emotional book than anything I’ve done so far - again, because of the issues I’m dealing with in this new series. Certainly no one at Avon dictated or even hinted at how I should write or what I should write. So if the book doesn’t “achieve the heights” of its predecessors, I guess the author has to take the blame. And if it does achieve any heights, then she’ll happily accept the praise.

The entire (short) interview is here: http://www.likesbooks.com/256.html

I’m not sure that even if NQAL is a longer book than MI if that’s a fair comparison, because not every book is going to end up the same number of words or pages.  What distresses me is that authors are not being given reasonably liberal allowances to write the story they want in the number of pages *it needs*—and in the case of NQAL, I think it seriously suffered.  I know that Chase has commented on NQAL, saying that she didn’t want to write a bleak book, etc., but my reaction to NQAL was very similar to Candy’s (and I got into quite a debate about it over at AAR)—that those elements of the novel that were most emotional felt undigested, unfinished, and inappropriately shallow. Not that I felt it wasn’t bleak enough, but even happy consequences and uplifting turnabouts need time to develop in order to be emotionally authentic and rich.  I realize that is *my* opinion, but I know I’m not the only one who has noticed the overall trend to shorten and sex up books.

—E said “(Sorry to jump on you; just pointing out your inherent anti-SF bias, here, and how that may be coloring your opinions regarding the TBR’s attitude towards romance novels.)”

That’s so funny because I am a total nut for SF! But definitely the more classic era - totally science, not mixed in with any other genre. (probably more the earlier stuff in a more “male” style. And SF Romance hardly ever seems to work to me at all. Few people seem able to write both) I guess what I was trying to convey here was the way that the best SF turns your preconceptions inside out, causing a complete reversal at some point in the story, and usually telling you something about your own time. My favourite stories do that, and ones that don’t I find rather blah and why do they bother? This could have been set anywhere.

Oh and kudos to the person defending their love of the HEA. It’s nice to hear from a real purist!

On the issue of reintegrating “genre” romance with general romance fiction, this quote by mystery author John Connolly has a lot of resonance with our discussion:

I find increasingly that more conservative mystery readers and reviewers are uncomfortable with what I do (while apparently being quite willing to accept self-aware cats that investigate crimes….) It’s infinitely depressing. For so long, mystery writers and readers had to contend with the belief among more “literary” types that their fiction was somehow inferior, or less worthy of notice. Judgment was passed upon them, and they were found wanting. It makes me want to bang my head against a wall when I see members of the mystery community being equally, if not more, judgmental now. Have they learned nothing? Their reluctance to countenance experimentation, the cross-fertilization of genres, even social commentary—in fact anything that would allow the mystery field to grow and generate new and interesting forms—is one of the great obstacles that the genre faces.

It pains me to say it, but for all the great quantity of material being produced, mystery fiction in recent years has rarely come up with anything worthy to stand alongside the best of literary fiction in the same period. Even in the last twelve months, has there been a mystery novel that explored the possibilities of writing and storytelling in the way that, say, David Mitchell’s Cloud Atlas did? The most interesting attempts to explore the possibilities of crime writing have often come from outside the genre: Pynchon’s Crying of Lot 49 and Eco’s The Name of the Rose spring to mind….

There are some very good writers in the genre, and a number of them are trying to do things that are a little different, but the mainstream isn’t called that for nothing, and those who experiment with the form will always run into difficulties.

Apologies—this ended up being much longer than I had anticipated.

megalith said:

I agree that books that fall outside of the “rules” of genre romance often end up on a different shelf in the bookstore. For example, it puzzled me recently to see Anita Shreve and Jennifer Weiner shelved with Literature and Fiction at my bookstore, along with Dame Dorothy Dunnett, who is my favorite romance author of all time. (Well, besides the divine Miss Austen.) Somehow, it seems if a book is considered to have literary merit it is deemed too good for the Romance section. Does this simply imply that it will appeal to a wider readership? Or is the old “pink ghetto” rearing its ugly head? Don’t know.

I don’t know if it’s the contents of the books so much as the *design* of the books in these instances. To many people (including booksellers), Romance Novel = Cheesy Clinch Cover; none of the authors mentioned above have those covers, ergo, their books were shelved in non-Romance areas of the bookstore. I imagine publisher classification plays into this too; if the book has ROM on the spine, it goes in Romance, if it has MYS, it goes in Mystery, etc.

Maybe I’m a rarity among readers, and maybe it’s partly because I’m a former bookseller, but book and cover design is *hugely* important for me; I will pay more for a trade paperback edition of a book if I like its cover better than the one on the mass-market paperback edition. Looking at the Romance section at B&N yesterday, I noticed that many of the romance subgenres are changing their covers to more closely resemble those of the subgenre’s General Fiction counterpart: Romantic Thriller covers look more like the general Thrillers, and the Fantasy Romances look more like Fantasy novels, etc. I wonder if any publishers would be willing to experiment and have B&N shelve those subgenres in the General Fiction section, to see if readership increases or changes appreciably.

Getting back to book covers, let’s look at Chick-Lit, which I don’t think is a genre so much as it’s a marketing effort devised by publishers to sell Romances to women who don’t want to read what they think of as Romance Novels (i.e., Cheesy Clinch Covers). To that end, Chick-Lit covers tend to have a more spare aesthetic, use line drawings instead of paintings, and often skip depicting people at all—I’m pretty sure the Chick-Lit cover trifecta is a high-heeled shoe, a martini glass, and an expensive purse.

IMHO, for the most part, Chick-Lit novels *are* Romances in terms of plot, characterization, and tone—but they’re disguised as general-fiction books and therefore get shelved in the general-fiction area, alongside the literary fiction. And it’s been quite successful, from what I’ve been able to gather: the books sell well to women in their 20s and 30s (like me) who don’t want to read a book with acres of man-titty on the cover.

In fact, I tend to look at clinch covers and think, Geez, could you get a little dignity, please? A Jennifer Weiner book cover is the well-put-together brunette at the bar, sipping a dirty martini while making witty conversation with the bartender; a clinch cover is the Pabst-soused bottle-blonde by the jukebox dancing badly and asking every guy to buy her a drink because “it’sh my birthday!” I don’t read books with clinch covers, period: I don’t buy them new, I don’t buy them used, I don’t check them out of the library. I’m sure you all will tell me that I’m missing some fantastic authors because of this, but I can’t just can’t bring myself to carry around the man-titty covers.

And if I, a Romance reader, can’t take those books seriously enough to read them, why should we expect Dwight Garner to be able to do so? Furthermore, does a majority of the Romance community (publishers, authors, readers) even *want* attention from the NYT? I get the impression that a lot of industry people reject the NYT Review of Books (and other mainstream publications) in a sort of reverse-snobbery attitude. Or more charitably, a “we’ll do it for ourselves” attitude.

book and cover design is *hugely* important for me; I will pay more for a trade paperback edition of a book if I like its cover better than the one on the mass-market paperback edition.

Hear hear!  Chick lit covers say “girly read”, clinches and mantitty say “stuck in the 70s unreconstructed anti-feminist bad writing.”  Don’t jump on me: I *know* that’s not reflective of the contents.  But damn, it gets old dealing with people’s freak-out that I read such “trash”.  And I reject the argument that someone’s negative reaction creates an opportunity to discuss romance.  Thing is, covers like that derail discussion by distracting from the main issue, which is the quality and content of the book.  It’s tough for someone to hear your protestations of good writing when their eyes keep veering to the cheese.

Getting back to book covers, let’s look at Chick-Lit, which I don’t think is a genre so much as it’s a marketing effort devised by publishers to sell Romances to women who don’t want to read what they think of as Romance Novels (i.e., Cheesy Clinch Covers)

Yeppers.  Though I think there are other distinguishing characteristics of chick lit.  E.g. it’s a bastion of contemporaries for women who grew up on Sex and the City.

Hear hear!  Chick lit covers say “girly read”, clinches and mantitty say “stuck in the 70s unreconstructed anti-feminist bad writing.” Don’t jump on me: I *know* that’s not reflective of the contents.  But damn, it gets old dealing with people’s freak-out that I read such “trash”.  And I reject the argument that someone’s negative reaction creates an opportunity to discuss romance.  Thing is, covers like that derail discussion by distracting from the main issue, which is the quality and content of the book.  It’s tough for someone to hear your protestations of good writing when their eyes keep veering to the cheese.

Yup. But at some point the marketing department decided to skew the cover one way or the other, and that had to be based somewhat on contents, on who the target audience was. So, what is it that skews the cover away from mantitty? Does the author choose the genre? the publisher? Gabaldon’s first three were marketed as romance. It was only with the trainwreck that was Fiery Cross that she “crossed over.” (That book was a huge exercise in authorial self-indulgence anyway, so maybe at the same time she was negotiating behind the scenes to “be taken seriously.”) A Breath of Snow and Ashes was still a romance as far as I could tell and yet marketed as general fiction. Perhaps in her case, the page count alone determined the classification?

Robin I did suggest the author trajectory and agree basically with those you’ve named (quite thorough). It always annoyed me, I think, when romance readers would always glum on to Jane Austen all the time—see? We’re legitimate—although I suppose she’s named because she’s more well-known and a better touchstone. But I think romance as it’s seen now has a far richer history and should be explored.

Candy I’d agree that there isn’t really anything “original” as far as ideas go any more and I’d give higher points for what an author does with the familiar materials he had rather than anything that strives to be “avant garde” for the sake of it. Originality doesn’t matter much to me. This is probably why I value style and voice too.

More generally, the secret to finding comic literary fiction is to read good blogs rather than boring newspaper reviews. ;) I mean they’re all right but they’re pretty conservative. The formula is latest literary sensation + literary/political biography + political non-fiction + cook book + local work. Seriously. I could edit those pages in my sleep.

Hi!  First time poster (I think), long time reader…Anyway, coming in late to the conversation, and sorry to interrupt, and not sure if I am doing this right…but…you all know “Jen” is Jennifer Weiner, right?  She just posted about it on her blog “Snarkspot” and linked to Smart Bitches.  Eeeeee!  She’s so fun!  Well, so are you ladies too of course…!—Meg

I’m a first-timer here, too, directed via Jen Weiner’s latest post (which Meg just mentioned).

Fascinating discussion—here’s my take as a new novelist whose first book hits the UK shelves in 17 days, and the US next Feb: Not all romance is created alike.

I commented on the NYT blog (though my comment hasn’t appeared there yet) that while a lot of the pulp romance isn’t NYBTR material, they would do well to expand into upmarket romance because there are some damn fine writers in the ranks.

My novel’s considered Women’s fiction, not romance, but it’s a love story, which I suspect might preclude it getting any NYT attention—despite it being a hardcover lead title for Random House/Ballantine next Feb.  Despite my having an MFA in creative writing.  Despite the book having literary qualities.  It’s by a woman and primarily for women which means they’re less likely to pay it much attention.  I’m hoping Jen’s discussion thread generates so much support for her (and my) position that the Times can’t fail to take some positive action.

FWIW, I’m in the camp that says Austen and Bronte were romance authors—and we celebrate them as literary masters.  Why?  As others here have noted, it’s the quality of the writing combined with page-turning plot and pertinent social commentary.

And me, I’m gunning for the same respect they get!

Check out the great responses to Garner by Therese Fowler & Stacey Ballis.
They go to the head of my “must read” list :)

love it poeple