In the last entry about Genesis press and allegations of nonpayment of royalties, a discussion began as to whether African-American romance, what some call “black romance,” is different.
Well, considering that much of the time, romance heroes and heroines are white, I’d say superficially it probably is.
One commentor stated that s/he doesn’t believe he/she relate to the racist/oppression themes that must run through black romance. Monica Jackson stated that “[t]he main complaint from racists about black romance is that it isn’t black enough. They expect a different experience and are shocked when the characters are just like them and have love affairs just like they do.”
Clearly, assuming that African-American romance is automatically going to feature victim heroines downtrodden under the weight of racism and generations of discrimination is a breathtakingly short-sighted supposition. In the black romance that I’ve read, and I admit the total is not as much as the historicals I’ve read featuring white protagonists, that hasn’t been a theme. The women have been strong, ass-kicking even, and discussions of racism didn’t enter the storyline.
However, is there a sense that romance targeted toward African-American readers maintains a patina of exclusivity that turns away readers who aren’t of the targeted group? Is it more than just where the books are placed on shelves and how the authors are categorized?
Minority culture maintains autonomy through preservation of elements unique to that culture. Language, food, social customs, sometimes religion. For Jews, it used to be Yiddish, and it’s still food and culture. And food. Did I mention food? And to anyone unfamiliar with the subtleties, it can seem bizarre, and exclusive. The same can be said for any minority, or culture you’re not familiar with.
Writing for that culture can often mean subtly including the signature elements, or piling them on to the degree that they become cliches. I’ve read both, much to my dissatisfaction: to wit, “I’m going to go home and relax with a big plate of ruglach and my cat named Oy Gevalt!”.
With African-American culture, I’m can’t state with authority what the unique elements are, but certainly a shared experience, particularly in this country, of exclusion, racism, and discrimination is in the top 3. How does that shared experience play out in books or films created for that cultural audience? Is it always a prevailing theme? Probably not.
When I consider the films I’ve seen that aim primarily towards African American audiences, there are several elements that establish cultural automony, most notably language and what linguists call “code switching”. I remember channel flipping and landing on a wedding scene in a movie wherein all the characters who were just meeting each other for the first time referred to one another as “my sister,” or “my brother.” And I don’t mean in the colloquial “brutha/sista” sense. I’d never seen that before, and couldn’t figure out if it was a unique character trait for that movie.
Sister in what? Siblings in what sense? And does that actually happen outside of the movies? And why do I feel bashful about acknowledging what I noticed in a film, and what I’ve noticed about language use among people of the same minority versus languaged used by the same people in mixed company? Language, written or spoken, changes based on who one speaks to; it’s true for me, certainly, and I can name countless examples I’ve witnessed.
Is language part of what makes African-American romance seem unique? Is it even different? Is it possible that there is a subtext, not just of acknowledged heritage but of multi-faceted shared culture, that runs through the stories?
Discussions of racism and racial differences are only productive if those doing the talking can put aside assumptions and inflammatory rhetoric to discuss the actual issues, and examine the prejudices that people hold for what they are, not what they represent.
Part of the reason I ask these questions is because much of African-American romance, until recently, operated in something of an exclusive industry, almost in a vacuum. Now that mainstream publishers have caught on, there are more options for authors who want to shop a manuscript, and who want to challenge other publishers on alleged nonpayment of royalties. But with the growth of African-American romance comes my question – is it different, or is that just misperception?
I’m going to have to copy all these suggestions and make a GSvSTA (Good Shit vs. Shit to Avoid) for a rather broadly defined “African American romance” category so please keep the suggestions coming!
Has anyone read the Starletta Duvall mysteries by Judith Smith-Levin? I was thinking they looked hella cool but I’m holding off on book shopping until I’m in LA in a couple weeks. I’ll need a second suitcase just to bring all my books home. *beams delightedly* I was reading that this lady became a cop because she got challenged to put her money where her mouth was. She was complaining because there were no female cops on the force, so she stepped up and scored like the 4th highest on the testing? I was really impressed by that, so I imagine her writing would snap with authenticity. There’s supposed to be a nice romantic sublot going with Starletta’s partner too. Right now, the only mystery I read is James Lee Burke, but I’m going to try Charlaine Harris’s Lily Bard series too.
Lia, I just have one thing to say about your argument about HEAs for people of color.
The romances I’m reading right now tend toward Regency fluff and romantic mystery, with a little m/m thrown in for variety
Maybe it’s the pedant in me, but I can’t help pointing out that the Regency was not a nice period, really. History is ugly. HEAs for women in any part of Western history, to begin with, were few and far between. But if we just look at Britain in the nineteenth century, what do we get? Sexual explotation of poor women, severe punishment for sexual transgression or any kind of compromise of ‘honor’ on the part of women, prison for a man caught in a relationship with another man—need I go on?
Hell, I’m a big fan of Regencies myself, but accuracy for me isn’t that big a deal. I read them for fun and for the fantasy—I read the ‘real’ literature professionally, so Regencies are a break. (As long as people aren’t waving digital watches, cameras or iPods around, obviously.)
I’m not faulting your choice to read whatever you want. Don’t like stories about people of color/minorities in the past? Don’t read ‘em! Who cares?
But it’s really disingenous to say that you don’t read them because you can’t envision a HEA for a person of color in the past b/c it’s “not realistic,” but then turn around and cheerfully gobble up m/m Regency romances. It’s all fantasy, in the end, and arguing that HEAs for people of color (or the very poor, as another example) in historicals are totally implausible is denying both the reality of people’s experience and the validity of the fantasy.
And I just realized that I might’ve misread Lia’s comment—you didn’t actually say Regency m/m romance. I apologize for implying that you were, if you aren’t. But my comment still holds true with het Regencies.
‘HEAs for women in any part of Western history, to begin with, were few and far between. But if we just look at Britain in the nineteenth century, what do we get?
severe punishment for sexual transgression or any kind of compromise of ‘honor’ on the part of women, prison for a man caught in a relationship with another man—need I go on?’
So they could literally be killed or put through torture in the name of love? May not make for HEA, but damn, could that be one hot and tearjerker tale. I would love to get some of those.
So they could literally be killed or put through torture in the name of love?
Well, I don’t know about killed, at least on the part of “fallen women,” though I’m sure male homosexual behavior could put you in danger of being killed by some narrow-minded freak. And it would depend on how you define torture. I mean, “honor” killings, to the best of my knowledge, were probably few and far between in 19C Britain (or America).
But cast out, spurned, forced into prostitution, beaten legally by father/husband, having your children taken away without any legal recourse, and left to die in the ditch? That happened.
And if we look at how his imprisonment for “sodomy” ruined Oscar Wilde’s life…yes. People suffered for love. It is a great story—but I prefer a happy ending, myself. 🙂
‘And if we look at how his imprisonment for “sodomy†ruined Oscar Wilde’s life…yes. People suffered for love. It is a great story—but I prefer a happy ending, myself.’
I’ve always made story priority myself. I’d still be intrigued. And tell me the chick couldn’t get tossed in the gutter, maybe go through some pain and misery, then get snatched up by her despoiler and they run away into the sunset. A BIT of a stretch, but certainly viable.
I may be jumping into this a bit late, but here goes anyway.
While I understand the various points made about “it’s only fiction” doesn’t the writer enter into a sort of social contract with the reader? That is, the writer is aware of the knowledge, perceptions, attitudes that readers bring to bear on a text? It seems to me a writer who “gets the little things right” has built up credibility with the reader and can then more adroitly challenge the reader in weightier matters, if they so wish.
great link that suggests some AA romance authors and book. check it out at http://aalbc.com/reviews/itsallaboutlove.htm
Well, I went shopping this weekend and I had a hell of time finding AA romance authors in the Borders near my apartment. I finally found an anthology in the Romance section, which was a bit of a surprise because this store has a tendency to shelve romances without tawdry covers in the lit section despite the clearly marked “Romance” on the spine. *le sigh*
My adventures on book shopping aside, I’ve been thinking about what has been said about AA/IR Historicals and HEAs. A little bell went off in my head about dimly recalled history lessons, so now I have this question: Does anybody know of any good Creole Historical Romances? Something where the plot isn’t the hapless heroine being sold into slavery, etc., and the main characters aren’t just white people with French accents, or some other such nonsense?
Does anybody know of any good Creole Historical Romances?
Wide Sargasso Sea, by Jean Rhys.
It’s just beautiful.
But it’s really disingenous to say that you don’t read them because you can’t envision a HEA for a person of color in the past b/c it’s “not realistic,†but then turn around and cheerfully gobble up m/m Regency romances.
Didn’t say it wasn’t realistic. And I’m the one reading m/m Regencies. Or even Regencies, for that matter. Or to be frank, most of Romance at the moment. But that’s not the point.
Regency is an established “romantic” era. And we’ve probably Georgette Heyer, Jane Austen and Jane Eyre to blame for that. Medieval is an established “romantic” era, mostly due to those damn Romantics earlier with their watercolour paintings and architectural follies.
I was brought up on a diet of such fantasies. The way classic fantasy is vaguely medieval, populated by white people and full of Important Quests. Names with apostrophes and “y”s. You know the drill. I accept it as a type of fluff because I know the world, I’ve been, if you like, brainwashed to accept the premise. I’ve done it before, when I’m younger and more gulliable.
But when you step out of that box, (it’s not even a comfort zone, just a box) the author has to try a little harder to convince me. It’s like describing the sea to someone who hasn’t seen the sea before, compared to describing to someone a goldfish tank.
I’m probably more convinced by the description of the goldfish tank since I’ve seen it before, but describing the sea takes more effort, greater skill to do so accurately. But the pay off is worth it.
I’m not even saying I prefer the goldfish tank, or that it’s better. It’s just easier to imagine because I’ve done it before. Tapping into an existing “romantic” conception is infinately easier than creating one from scratch. And in some ways, that’s what a black historical would be doing. The same way a fantasy novel set in China would need to convince me. There isn’t in place an existing romantic volcabulary, a shared fantasy that the author can tap into.
Thanks for the book recommendation.
Regency is an established “romantic†era. And we’ve probably Georgette Heyer, Jane Austen and Jane Eyre to blame for that.
Sorry, but Jane Eyre is a Victorian novel, not Regency. It was published in 1847.
Sorry, but Jane Eyre is a Victorian novel, not Regency. It was published in 1847.
My apologies. I really should know better after that many essays about the woman. My slackness there.
I’d argue that it does have a great deal of influence on Regency-esque novels of governesses and rakes, and that’s where my mind was meandering from (Just as the unfulfilled guardian/ward romance in “Bleak House”) but I’d really just be trying to cover my own back.
Addendum:
Probably the best example I could come up with said “boxed” mentality and stepping out of it would be martial arts films.
I (and the rest of asia) was brought up on a great many marital arts films and books. We’re used to the heroes leaping from rooftop to rooftop, defying gravity as part of their skill of the sword. It’s a way of representing their skill, it’s the norm, the way witches fly on broomsticks in western culture, only moreso.
So when I watch a martial arts film in which a hero starts defying gravity, I need no convincing. My belief is already suspended, I’m already there with him, leaping from roomtop to rooftop, or using his sword to balance on water, or stepping on floating umbrellas (etc).
However, when a western audience comes to a martial arts film, they often find the whole anti-gravity thing hard to swallow. They probably also have trouble with the iron-skin techniques and whatnot. The standard martial arts whoo-ja.
Thus until you find that common language, as genres-products are very much about common languages, a “standard” book in it becomes more intimidating. You could just read it and just plough your way through, but it’s harder work. And if it’s not written to be inviting to a foreign audience, it’ll just seem slightly alien and mildly incomprehensible. (Personally, that’s what Orson Scott Card ran into when he picked up a romance.)
And some assumptions are made. That the Chinese don’t quote idioms. At tea yesterday, in Hong Kong, I overheard a whole table of twenty-something-year-olds jokingly debating the usage of a quotation and various idioms (I think someone misued one and was being mocked). Some do.
Think I lost the point somewhere.
Culture does make a mark on a story. It should, at least. To say one “only cares for the story” doesn’t really work, the story need be grounded in it. (Regency-esque wallpapers are grounded in Regency-wallpaper-land, it’s a valid world/culture, merely a not very realistic constructed one. Just to throw a curveball, Shakespeare writes wallpapers. Not to defend them in any way, most wallpapers are crap, historical accuracy is important. I haven’t really even read one really worth remembering. But that’s not the point, in itself, wallpaper isn’t necessarily a bad thing.)
To accurately represent a culture is not easy. To accurately represent it and make it accessable to an audience that is not familiar with it is even more difficult. Espeically many romances are written with the assumption that you already buy into its premise.
And I’m not saying it’s not worthwhile or that all AA books should be written with some opinionate chink in mind as a reader. I’m merely saying that culture matters, it does “mark” a book, and to an audience not familiar to it, it’s more difficult to read. And thus not always first on the easy-reading list. And romance, as a genre, is very much easy-reading.
And I’m also not saying that all who aren’t reading AA romances are not reading it for this and only this reason.
jetso: “Just to throw a curveball, Shakespeare writes wallpapers.”
Good point! When Brutus mentions a doublet, you know it’s time for some crazy anachronistic fun!
~Kiku
I definitely recommend Beverly Jenkins AA historical romances. She does a lot of research before she writes them and adds in quite a few historical details of the times (like freetowns, black owned newspapers and businesses, former slaves moving west after the Emancipation, etc.)
I like Beverly Jenkins a lot. And I thought of a very interesting (though tragic) historical featuring an interracial romance with a twist: Phillipa Gregory’s A Respectable Trade. Absolutely loved it, but it’s a historical, not a historical romance.
There are lots of possiblities for positive romance novels about black characters in history. The west was wide open (not that the west is a particularly popular period at the moment). There are some excellent historical characters who did very cool things—one of my favorites is Joseph Boulougne, The Chevalier St. George. Born in the islands in the 18th century, became a violin virtuoso and composer and fencer extraordinaire, traveled to Paris where he was an instant hit, and proceeded to cut a dashing swath through society. (I based a character loosely on his story in a historical series, Gabrielle St. Ives). And there are many others. Dashing and intelligent and vivid contributors to history. 18th century is particularly rich.
Barbara
From what I know reasonably well to what I know less well: African American Romance (and I do know I’ll be shot down for this) has, perhaps, less potential for historicals, pirates and all the other such forays into the past. Not through any fault of their own, merely the way history has panned out. Does rule out most of the pirate/viking/regency-reading audience.
Actually, there were plenty of black pirates, both male and female. Some were escaped slaves; some were free. And there were plenty of black people in Regency England – see also the PBS series “Regency House Party” for pointing that out – and Jane Austen has a biracial character in her last unfinished novel, “Sanditon”. (Also, it was widely believed in that period, that Queen Charlotte, mother of the Prince Regent, was biracial.) I don’t know about black vikings, but there were black Vandals (along with the Germanic ones) that sacked Rome.
So there’s plenty for the historical crowd to work with. I’m definitely going to write a Regency featuring a black heroine, as soon as I finish the other projects I’m working on.
All these women jonesing for Jewish guys . . . where were you when I was in college? That’s what I want to know.
I went to a women’s college. and I was awfully shy back in those days when it came to meeting guys. 🙂
Though I’m way late chiming in, I just wanted to add my 2 cents in.
As an African-American author, I’ve found it humorous when people read my work, looking for this completely different cultural experience only to realize that ‘we’ (black folks) truly do have the same relationship issues as everybody else. Some of us may express ourselves differently, but we are essentially the same underneath it all.
And though we have the added challenge of overcoming racism, the way many of us do it is so inspiring. Those are the stories I like to read. Those are the stories I like to write.
Suprina Frazier
PS. I believe one of the reasons African-American address each other as ‘brother’ and ‘sister’ is because we consider ourselves related when it comes to the struggle of racism. Embracing that kinship is empowering in and of itself.