A little editorial bird told me that the origin of the clinch cover is rooted, as with anything involving boobs hanging out of tight corsets, with men. Seems men were the buyers at stores selling romance novels, and they bought more of the clinch covers, so that’s what was sold. I don’t know how true that is, but it doesn’t seem too far fetched. I mean, there’s no doubt that when I leave the buxom clinch covers around the house, Hubby tends to pick them up and take a closer look. The hetero male mind comes to complete synaptic arrest at the sight of boobs.
Whether or not the story of the Origin of the Clinch Cover is true, the fact remains that they seem to sell even now. Floral-drenched landscapes, close ups of women’s shoes, and headless torsos haven’t really made the marketing impact that the clinch has – go to the bookstore and there’s plenty of that classic clinch image on sale in the book rack: buxom mantitty grasping at half-naked women.
So I ask myself: which came first, the romance or the clinch cover? Are readers of romance trained to head for the clinch cover when shopping for reading material because so much of romance is and has been housed in that image? Or is that image preferred by enough readers of romance that the clinch continues as a iconic image of romance that will sell copies of whatever book it adorns?
In the discussion of the “Ravished” cover on the Seattle Weekly issue last week, iffygenia made a very apt comment:
I’m equally insulted by the hideous covers and *their* use of “ignorant, easy shorthand that plays into insulting stereotypes . It’s true, many people have a negative image of the genre. Not surprising, given the genre actively works to put that image out there.
In the cover survey yesterday, a lot of commenters echoed that sentiment – that the clinch covers don’t really do it for them. Chicklet, for example, said she preferred covers that “don’t depict people, either in paintings or in photographs” and that she “abhor(s) clinch covers.”
Tracy said, “I don’t think we need half naked people or people practically having sex on the covers for people to know what’s inside. I don’t like covers that scream ‘there be sex in here’” and given that I’m often reading on my lunch break while I eat, I agree with her. There’s a certain amount of professional image that one loses in a glance if there’s Fabio and a nameless model humperating on the cover of one’s lunchtime reading material. I admit: I get a little thrill reading paper-bound ARCs because they are often entirely without art, and therefore completely genre-neutral.
Teddy Pig pointed out that the older Coulter and Lindsey covers, on the other hand, “gave those books a specific character,” and he does have a point. The lurid image was a sign of the times – and may be part of what trained me as a reader to look for the clinch when it comes to shopping for romance, especially if I’m shopping for romance quickly, such as when I finished a book on a flight and grabbed something fast while I changed planes. I ended up buying a book featuring two empty beach chairs, and man oh man was it not a romance. I loved it, I thought it was beautiful, and it was marvelously well-written, but it was sad and definitely not a romance. It was in the mini-bookstore’s collection of romance mixed in with ‘women’s fiction,’ and it occurred to me that if I’d gone for a clinch cover, I would have ended up with a romance. Maybe not a GOOD one, but definitely a romance.
Perhaps that’s why clinches sell. It’s the Marketing Image of Romance Novels, and if you’re shopping without a specific title or author in mind, it’s the cover image that most likely guarantees a romance novel inside. Perhaps we are like the buxom woman on the cover: stuck in the clinch.
Well, *I’m* certainly going to be paying more attention to the man-titty than to the buxom wench…
This has me thinking about the *whys* of mantitty and clinch covers and code. I hear these models’ names floated around all the time, though I only recognize Fabio because he’s an international sensation. But a lot of romance readers are very into the male models, recognize them on the covers, even collect those covers. So maybe women who like clinch covers, etc. like them MORE than we DON’T like them. The covers are part of the experience for a lot of readers, and it just wouldn’t be the same without them.
Honestly? I don’t buy that clinch covers are an active turn-off. If you’re embarrassed to read something on the train, you leave it at home…but you still buy it, if you want to read it bad enough. If your attention has been grabbed fiercely enough—dare I even say, “clenched?” ;P
If the embarrassment factor were a significant enough deterrent, Penthouse wouldn’t sell so well. The majority of buyers do so on a whim, rather than a well thought-out and researched quest. Something shocking—like manboobs and nekkid butts—will make you double-take, which is the first step in hooking you into a buy. Tasteful and unobtrusive covers don’t snag you on your way to the cafe.
The Clinch lurks on an end-cap until it has the opportunity to jump out at you and force you to look, Once The Clinch has your attention, The Clinch will create a mental ruckus and compel you to go over and pick up, sometimes just to see if it really is that bad. That is the purpose of The Clinch. Sometimes The Clinch will keep up the ruckus until you are forced to silence it by putting it in a sales bag with a “paid” receipt. The Clinch does not care what you do after that, or how dirty you feel afterwards.
Clinches do their job well. Hence, they’ll be around until something else comes along that does their job better.
“Love’s Fiery Dagger”…Dear Goddess. Pass the brain bleach, please. I HATE titles like that.
If the publishers MUST use a clinch cover, I agree with the person who mentioned “stepback” covers – right word? I kind of like those. If you want to look at the clinch, it’s there, and if not, you can ignore it.
Sorry about the caps – I’m in a NOISY mood today.
A question on the step back covers: are those the covers where the outside cover goes approx. half-way across the width of the book so that the outside and inside images can coordinate/carry on from the outside to the inside or are those the covers where the outside cover is perfectly normal, then you open the book and there’s two people writhing around that you didn’t expect to see so you’re surprised every time you come across that inside cover?
While I like the idea of the half-cover that coordinates with the inside image (i.e. they look good), I must say in practice they bug me because I always seem to be catching that half cover on things. One of Eloisa James’ latest books is a good example – it’s nice and tasteful to look at, but sheesh I managed to completely mangle it in about 1 day’s time.
I like clinch covers *because* they are a lazy shorthand. Tasteful prarie scene or nice Regency ‘gel’ cover = historical, probably boring with lots of young ladies going to dances and talking a lot about men, but no action. Cinch may be cheesy but yeah, I like cheesy romance and I know the flavour of what I’m going to get even if I don’t know the author. In a way it thus allows me to explore other authors. A lot of my bookshop buys are impulsive, based on cover blurb and covers and if the nice young man at the counter gives me a weird look for my hetero-centric cheesy girl-porn then sod him.
If the embarrassment factor were a significant enough deterrent, Penthouse wouldn’t sell so well.
That’s presuming a strong connection between the cover, sexual content, and embarrassment.
I prefer not to buy things I don’t want to keep. The clinch cover is a strike against the book being a keeper. I’m more likely to get a clinch-cover book at the library. That’s no less embarrassing than the bookstore (if embarrassment is about a clerk seeing it), but doesn’t mean buying something I find ugly.
“Huh. Seems more likely that the male models are known because the female readers like the man-titty and don’t care about the female models?”
That’s what I was thinking! :o)
“Love’s Fiery Dagger Dear Goddess. Pass the brain bleach, please. I HATE titles like that.
Yeah, I literally found it in our basement and read it out of sheer curiosity. I seem to remember the heroine becoming Saladin’s love slave or something equally bizarre before the hero finally came to rescue her…
I do have to say, though, without clinch covers, we wouldn’t have Longmire does Romance Novels, which has provided me with hours of entertainment.
Just popping in…I live in Japan, where embarassment factor is a big issue in some cases, and not in others. I mean, a country where I routinely ride the trains sitting squeezed next to an middle aged-salary man who is reading the ‘sports news’ which has erotic stories and full-frontal female nudity in the middle pages, or some bondage porn manga, while next to him on the other side a juniour high school girl sleeps with her headphones on – What can I say? I guess the guy can’t read it at home, and there is some social thing that I am NOT aware of, that lets him read this tripe on trains.
But – on the other hand, every time I go to a bookstore and buy a book – ANY book, be it erotic, business or novel, they put a paper book cover on it, like you had to do back in school. Every book gets this treatment. I could guess and say they are being nice and making sure that I can read the book without getting it dirty, so I can re-sell it later…or I could be paranoid and say that Japanese people don’t like other people to see what they are reading… It confuses me.
(Mantra #1 of Life in Japan – Stop using logic, this is Japan.)
Embarassed by co-workers commenting on how your copy of Prince of Passion is getting dog-eared? Tired of clinch covers getting snide comments from family? Do what the Japanese do. Get a cover, or lift it high when riding public transport and make approving grunting noises as you read and slurp sake. Never mind the clinch covers!
Just popping in…I live in Japan, where embarassment factor is a big issue in some cases, and not in others. I mean, a country where I routinely ride the trains sitting squeezed next to an middle aged-salary man who is reading the ‘sports news’ which has erotic stories and full-frontal female nudity in the middle pages, or some bondage porn manga, while next to him on the other side a juniour high school girl sleeps with her headphones on – What can I say? I guess the guy can’t read it at home, and there is some social thing that I am NOT aware of, that lets him read this tripe on trains.
But – on the other hand, every time I go to a bookstore and buy a book – ANY book, be it erotic, business or novel, they put a paper book cover on it, like you had to do back in school. Every book gets this treatment. I could guess and say they are being nice and making sure that I can read the book without getting it dirty, so I can re-sell it later…or I could be paranoid and say that Japanese people don’t like other people to see what they are reading… It confuses me.
Embarassed by co-workers commenting on how your copy of Prince of Passion is getting dog-eared? Do what the Japanese do. Get a cover, or lift it high when riding public transport and make approving grunting noises as you read and slurp sake. Never mind the clinch covers!
I don’t like the standard “bimbo falling out of her bodice while in the arms of a half-naked bodybuilder” covers, but I’ll buy one if that’s the only way to get the book. I make my choices based on such things as if the author has written other books I have enjoyed or if I have read good things about the book on the web. Though that’s no guarantee: I made the mistake of picking up Judith McNaught’s WHITNEY, MY LOVE this week: UGH! The “hero’ is an arrogant, abusive rapist asshole! And its considered a classic? It has taken the place of Jude Devereaux’s COUNTERFEIT LADY as Worst So-Called Romance Ever Written in my private lexicon.