Suppose for a moment that words can take on three dimensional qualities, like sticks, stones, etc.
I present for your perusal my imagination’s depiction of Joss Whedon’s quote from this article in the Globe & Mail about sexism in popular culture as a perfectly warm and friendly bathtub of water that I can curl up in for hours and won’t ever get cold:
“Women’s inferiority – in fact, their malevolence – is as ingrained in American popular culture as it is anywhere they’re sporting burkas,” wrote Buffy the Vampire Slayer creator Joss Whedon on a website recently. “I find it in movies, I hear it in the jokes of colleagues, I see it plastered on billboards… Women are weak, manipulative, somehow morally unfinished. The logical extension of this line of thinking is that women are expendable… There is a staggering imbalance in the world that we all just take for granted.”
It’s not that this quote makes me happy, but it’s comforting that there are people who Get It.
[Thanks to Emily for the link.]
Oh yes. The judgment of women’s physicality, that pubic hair, cellulite, wrinkles, and any signs of humanity that might possibly be unattractive – Hillary Clinton has long been the subject of that judgment. Even before she ran for president, any unflattering picture of Hillary was eagerly published by the media. I remember (but can’t find) a very unflattering pic from possibly 1992 or 1991 of Clinton adjusting a mic cord behind her head that was all over the front pages of newspapers. In color. Because, you know, that’s news.
The funny thing is, like I said in my comment to that entry, as I read the Safran article that bashed American and British women’s personal upkeep, I thought he sounded more like a woman criticizing another woman – even more specifically, he sounded like what I say. To myself.
Please pass the kick in my own ass, thanks, because I need one.
So back to romance and how that fits in. (It’s not all about me. It’s all about romance. I’m generous. Not narcissistic. Except for the whole blog thing, which is gleeful narcissism.) Brindel’s accusations that romance is the shield of the attacking patriarchy and the endless question of whether romance novels and feminism (and related words and concepts) can sit on the same park bench and feed the ducks leads me to more questions.
Does romance propagate the narrow standard of physical perfection in women? I go back and forth. For every plump heroine or heroine who is unapologetic about her curves, her desire not to have children, her status as a “real” woman, there’s a heroine who undergoes a makeover as part of her evolution towards her happy ending. For every imperfect or historically impossible heroine in a Regency, there’s one who oddly has smooth and hairless legs. Do heroines embrace or subvert that standard of physical perfection?
It’s quite a question considering that romances are read by women mostly, and the question of whether the reader relates to the hero, the heroine, or both, or neither, still hasn’t been resolved in my debating mind.
However, there is a growing prevalence of stronger heroines, especially in paranormals, where the heroines are often superpowered or muscular and possessing of combat training. There’s ass to kick, and there’s heroines to do it. For every perfectly marvelous makeover heroine, there’s about three vampire hunters, two psychic warriors and a partridge in a pear tree. Because you know, paranormal heroines put the romance in “necromance.”
So my vote, as I continue to ponder the question, is that romance affirms the stronger woman and subverts the stereotypical sexism, as opposed to embracing the standard of beauty that reduces women to fractions of their parts, but I’m always happy to be told I’m totally utterly wrong. In a nice way.
I’ve given this a lot of thought as a feminist and long-time romance reader and I think that it is not an either-or question. Romance both affirms strong women (in myriad ways) and reproduces sexist representations (in other myriad ways). Why does it have to be one way or the other?
Not terribly coherent today (bronchitis, ugh).
Maura
OK, so obviously some romances are more empowering than others, and it’s really hard to make a blanket judgement about the whole genre. But yes, most romance heroines are “beautiful” by whatever standards the author chooses. Which could mean anything from fair, delicate and mysteriously body-hair-less, to athletic and kick-ass.
Although I agree that having warriors, vampire hunters, and other physically stronger heroines is a step forward, the whole emphasis on being buff and “fit” (read: no body fat) is its own kind of beauty standard which is increasingly enforced in our culture. And not necessarily any easier or more emotionally healthy than what women have aspired to in the past. Romance heroines may have been getting more muscular lately but so has the “ideal” body type for American women – at least by my observation.
Personally I’m happy to read about plump heroines as well as not conventionally pretty ones but I don’t like books that go on and on about how plain the chick is. Look, if she keeps whining about feeling unattractive, I’m gonna believe her and start seeing her as unattractive.
Oh and you know what else? I would love more non-handsome heroes. I kind of hate it when they’re always described as soooo hot and pretty. I wouldn’t want to date a damn male model and I don’t want to read about one either, how about a hero who sounds *real*? To me so much description of physical beauty in these stereotypical terms (tall dark and handsome hero, slim heroine with big blue eyes) is just lazy writing by someone who doesn’t know how to make the characters seem sexy and desirable in any other way.
I’m rambling here. Essentially I think that romances hold up the beauty standard, not subvert it. And I will think that until I start seeing books that take the heroine’s looks for granted, as just another small part of her character, instead of harping on and on about either how beautiful or how plain (but secretly beautiful) she is.
My God, you’ve been ranty lately. What’s going on? It’s Christmastime! Feel the cheer! FEEL THE CHEER!
Blech. Who has cheer this close to Christmas?
If I hear Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer one more time – and YES, I’m including the doo-wop, gospel, hip hop, and whatever other versions are out there – I’m going to get medieval on the next giant inflatable snow globe I see.
When it comes to a heroine’s looks, that really doesn’t bother me one way or another to be honest. In fact there have been times where I’ll skim over the description. The only time a heroine’s physical appearance bothers me is if I feel like I’m being bludgeoned to death with it (whether she’s heart stoppingly beautiful or plump or mousy or has three heads, etc).
But that isn’t the fault of the genre, that’s the fault of the writer. If a writer can’t flesh out a character beyond appearance, or create a story that goes past a superficial attraction, I’m not going to give up on all Romance books. Since books are written by people they vary, and the idea of generalizing them grates me. So I guess that means I refused to answer the question of “are they or aren’t they?” I can be frustrating that way 🙂
I guess all I want is a variety of heroines, not to replace one stereotype with another. Beauty isn’t only measured by physical appearance. Strength doesn’t have to be just muscles. Give me complicated, well written, women of all shapes and personalities.
Molly> You ever seen a movie called Sliding Doors? That has to be one of the best cases for a guy can be totally attractive without having much by way of looks. I’d love to read some books with a hero like that!
Oh yes, he gets it. Here’s the whole Joss Whedon post from which this quote was pulled. It’s very powerful.
(word: truth21)
Thanks to Octavia for the link to Joss’s post. As usual he proves that he gets it.
As far as romance and stereotypes, I usually identify with the heroine’s ( and /or hero’s voice) their attitude, I guess, more than looks so it really doesn’t matter if they are really beautiful or not as long as they have an attitude to life that I can admire or relate to. I realize that is kind of vague, but I relate to people who think like me more than people who look like me.
PS. I’m with Kimberly on holiday cheer. I never listen to Xmas carols until at least June if at all.
Holiday cheer, feh. I’m sure many Smart Bitches are now just reeling from the “joy” of Chanukah and are in post-holiday grouchiness.
And Joss Whedon needs to be cloned.
No time to compose a detailed reply, but holy damn I want to. At any rate, I think that by and large, the majority of romances still reflect a lot of the fucked-up expectations we have for women. So many of the so-called kick-ass heroines I encounter are barely capable. The author tells us over and over and over that they’re good at what they do, but what we see instead is quite different. There are a number of reasons for this, some of them cultural, and some of them based on the nature of storytelling (fucking up = conflict = fodder for plot).
OK, back to swotting for Contracts, but I’ll try to write something…tomorrow?
I think the “beautiful” aspect can be handled one of two ways. Does the author go at length to describe the heroine’s beauty – nose shape, eye color, hair style, what-have-you…or is the heroine’s beauty judged through the eyes of the hero (and thereby a reflection or function of his attraction to her…no matter what her physical attributes make up)?
Part of the “fantasy” aspect of romance is the concept of attractive people finding each other and a good relationship that is both emotionally and physically fulfilling. And within the context of the fantasy, the characters are, if not fit or ideally “beautiful” then they are—or come to be—comfortable with themselves, and attractive to the other person, and it is the attraction that creates the beauty, and the love and wholeness that the characters experience with each other, that expresses that out into the world of the story.
My word? own52. The romance heroine’s credo. I own my beauty and it comes from within. I am beautiful, even if I’m a hatchet-face, because I’m in love and someone loves me back.
“there’s a heroine who undergoes a makeover as part of her evolution towards her happy ending”
Gah~that makes me crazy. I’ve got nothing against the chubby heroine starting to eat better to get healthier~hey THIS chubby heroine (ask my hubby! I am a heroine, really!) needs to get healthier. BUT, BUT, BUT we don’t need to see her loose 40 lbs before she gets her HEA. That makes me crazy.
One book I read had the heroine getting lasik surgery so she didn’t have to wear glasses anymore. She decided and did this in like 3 days?! Really. Glasses are that ugly? sheesh.
I’m chubby and I wear glasses, it’s amazing I’m still married. *rolling eyes*
Very good question. The short answer is that obviously romances in which heroines get all made over and prettied up in party gowns are furthering a stereotypical view of beauty. But it’s a holdover from doll playing in our childhoods, and that’s why it is so appealing.
In plenty of romances the good looks of both characters are described as mostly in the eye of the beholder. Yes, chiefly in historicals, there is a nasty tendency to make the heroine the prettiest girl in the room. And the hero always is the tallest. But only very occasionally are romance characters described as outside the norm of TV star attractiveness, i.e. as wildly beautiful or incredibly ugly. The women are normal and so are the men, the better for the readers to bond with them. And lots of times, the heroines talk of feeling that they need to lose some weight. The fairy tale aspect comes in because they actually don’t need to, whereas in real life, lots of us do.
But are romances perpetrating stereotypes of beauty any worse than, say, magazines do? I just read an issue of a magazine meant for over-40 women and realized that there was not one single photo in it, whether in editorial or in ads, of a woman who was plump. Not fat, not morbidly obese, just plump—like ordinary women who get to age 40 via a couple of kids, long commutes, and stressful workdays. So the fact that romances take cognizance of women’s very real feelings of being imperfect, and arrange for some fairy dust now and then, well, I don’t mind it. Because in the world around us, we always see a skewed version of reality.
And I do agree that the kickass heroine is changing the fitness requirements of the romance heroine. We’re now fantasizing that we are masters of arcane Asian fighting techniques. Is this an empowerment fantasy (and thus good) or just another version of setting the bar too unrealistically high (and thus bad)???
I think that the sexist tropes (the oddly smooth legs, as you say) are the result of this overall mindset. It’s not that the authors are thinking, “Muah ha ha ha ha! I’m going to put forth a ridiculous standard of beauty and help the patriarchy keep the wimmens down!”
It’s that the writer’s own standard of beauty is caused by/derived from contemporary standards. I have no problem with that.
What I have a problem with is that the author needs to say it. To draw attention to it. I realize that “telling details” are important in the crafting of fiction, but hairless legs in Regency England is not a telling detail.
Part of the problem is that romances, in general, are fantasy. Just as no one ever farts during sex in a romance novel, they will have bodies that are very close to contemporary standards of beauty, even if those standards are utterly unrealistic.
That’s where Romance, in particular, can and does come under fire. There’s a lot of sex in them thar books, and if you’re going to talk graphically about people’s bodies in an idealized way, you’re going to write images of idealized bodies; and in that way, unintentionally, they become part of the parade of Professional Bodies we see on TV.
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sidebar:
“Professional Bodies” is my new term for actors. Most of the men and all of the women are required to have good bodies. That is their job. They hire teams of employees and freelancers to help them, and they spend their days doing things to sculpt and refine themselves into these artifacts of perfection. Being a body is their job. The rest of us have other jobs.
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I’m more offended by the books that try to subvert the stereotype, but do the Utter Fail. I read a light, fluffy supernatural romance a few months ago wherein the heroine was annoyed with her breasts because they were too big.
If her ample bosom is an issue, I want to see that on the paper. I want to hear about the strap-marks on her shoulders, or at least about the price of high-quality bras. Or about the uncomfortable feeling of having men stare at her tits instead of talking to her face. What I don’t want is for the character to say, “My breasts are too big” but give no explanation how they make her unhappy.
I’d start to feel bad about my makeover if it wasn’t for the fact that the happiness derived from it has nothing to do with attracting the attention of morons. Though being prettier AND still smarter than them gives me warm and fuzzy feelings. I guess stupid people forgives pretty bitches better.
“I want to hear about the strap-marks on her shoulders, or at least about the price of high-quality bras. Or about the uncomfortable feeling of having men stare at her tits instead of talking to her face>” I’ve experience all of that and it is very uncomfortable. Or how about having a boy give you the nickname “boom boom” in Jr. High? Oh, so fun!! (serious sarcasm there)
And seriously, how much more material is there in my DD bra? Surely, not $10 worth!!
“My breasts are too big.” is just shorthand for “Look at my big breasts.” Obvious, and smug, and stupid.
But let’s be fair. Some women and some romance writers are obvious, smug, and stupid.
Luckily, this isn’t the best we can do.
I don’t read romances, I just work in publishing, so I don’t really know how qualified I am to hold forth on anything romance-related.
This is probably off-topic, but I find that not only is there the tendency for the women to get made over physically, there’s also a great sense of making her over emotionally. What of the romances where the story takes a woman and settles her into a subservient role raising the hero’s children?
I’m continually disgusted by the array of Home and Family romances that Harlequin barfs out every month, because I think they effectively declaw the heroine by relegating her to this sterotype. Every one of them seems to involve each woman, as Doris Lessing put it, “sinking without a murmur into marriage and motherhood.” Sometimes they have kids, sometimes they don’t, but each one’s goal seems to be A Man (usually another damn cowboy) and A Family. Now I realize I can’t go “OMG, the heroine’s goal is to catch a man!” when criticizing romance, but it seems that these stories focus on the family at the expense of the woman. Plenty of women lead successful and fulfilling lives as single mothers. Also, it’s entirely possible, isn’t it, to fall in love and carry on as an independent woman? There are plenty of strong, independent women who fall passionately in love and get married with no intention of ever raising a family.
I know my argument is limited, because I’m uninformed, but it just makes me seethe to see this presented, affirmed, and celebrated as a woman’s ultimate goal.
Yes! Yes!! YES!!!
This is always the way I come at it as a writer, because this is how I’ve come at it as a person. Often the man I’m all hot and bothered by isn’t HOT by the standards of GQ or Models Inc., but because we have a connection, he’s DAMN HOT to me. I can even step back and analyze his looks. I “know” he’s not the most beautiful man on the planet. But I also know that he’s working for me, and that’s all the matters.
I think the genre is just too large to make a value judgment as to its propagation or subversion of patriarchal standards. I think we could line up many books on both sides of the debate, and many of those we would argue over as to what side they really belong on.
The passage in the article that really caught my attention was this one:
Beyond the notion of beauty in Romance heroines IMO lurk questions about other gender issues in the genre—those things that are idealized, those that are scorned, those that are ignored. Not, of course, that we should be trying to politicize the genre—just that maybe it wouldn’t hurt to look at all the ways the genre is already politicized, often without our noticing.
Tracey, it’s not the fabric, it’s the engineering. In my experience, buying a bra that’s exactly the same in all sizes won’t guarantee a good fit (I’m a DD/E). What I pay for is quality of cut and fit.
And yes, I did write a heroine who was big-breasted and enjoyed it…sometimes. Other times she complained that she needed special equipment to run anywhere, and that no one ever talked to her face.
As for beautiful heroines, I don’t personally mind them. But just like the gal with the big boobies, I want to know how this affects her life. You can scorn all you like, but beauty comes with a rough as well as a smooth side.
A beautiful woman can never expect anyone to credit her with intelligence, and she can’t really hope for much in the way of male friendship, either. I’ve written two very beautiful heroines: one whose beauty attracted the vampire who killed her, and one who used her looks to become a courtesan. They didn’t live normal lives, and their looks were a big part of that.
So, I don’t mind a beautiful heroine, but I do mind if it’s gratuitous.
Cat~ know know, I know, I just like to bitch about it. LOL I hate paying so much more for a bra just because the genetics in my family = gigantic boobs.
Ri L. – thank you, thank you, thank you. It’s nice to know that I am not alone, I don’t understand that type of book either. I also don’t understand the appeal of the “ready made family” at all. I’ve read several where both the hero and his kids treat the heroine like crap all through the book, but it’s ok, they’re her family now. She’s miserable in her magical, wonderful family, but she’s a better person because she’s not alone. Barf.
Can anyone recommend books where the happily ever after does not include children (by choice)? The only one I know of is Bet Me by Jennifer Crusie.
Maybe that’s the reason I prefer historicals. In my feminist brain, I can justify the beauty seeking the gorgeous guy, marrying and having many children. In the past, that was the basic job of the upper class woman.
I don’t mind the atractiveness of the hero and heroine. To me, in a book, it’s just the quick shorthand for the first physical attraction. Besides, it is a fantasy.
But in general, it’s the way media (books, movies and tv) portrays women. rant on/ On TV, I heard plenty about the “strong female character” of Sydney Bristow on Alias. I found her to be the writers/producers’ Stepford doll wet dream. /rant off
And finally, Joss Whedon is a God.
I think the reason that I love romance so much is that you are using your imagination, and generally speaking most romance authors really allow us to use our imaginations. While they might have an idea of what our heroine looks like in their head, most don’t give SO much description of the heroine that I feel like I could pick her out in a line-up. It’s up to me more than anything, so while my heroine may have red hair and freckles which stand out a lot in the book, the body shape tends to be left a bit more to the imagination, so rather than imagining Nicole Richie in a wig, I’m imagining someone a little closer to myself (okay, not my whole self, because I would like a couple pounds shaved off in my fantasies).
That’s really one of the reasons I prefer books to other forms of entertainment, I get to put myself in the role, rather than feeling bad for eating that popcorn with butter while I’m watching a film with a size-zero heroine, or just generally feeling bad about myself while seeing almost any other news or television show that features the sticks of society that I (sometimes) wish I looked more like.
It really depends on the book. Some are crazy subversive. Some are crazy patriarchal. I like to think that there are lots of subversive ones going on, but that could just be me not reading any of the reactionary ones.
As for beauty, I don’t mind beautiful heroines. The world is full of beautiful women—I see ‘em all the time.
This question bothered me a lot in grad school. All the Feminists said romance=bad for women. Romance readers and authors content that in romance the heroine always gets what she wants, etc. so they are actually quite feminist in nature. But no one had ever stood in the middle of the road and taken a fair, thorough look at both sides. Feminists haven’t read romance and romance readers and authors haven’t read much if anything in the way of academic feminist critiques. So I stepped up and did it.
I did my best to remain unbiased (although I recognize this is never truly possible). I did an in depth reading of 10 novels of different subgenres, all of which had made the NYTimes extended bestseller list. Good research looks at what the public is consuming the most rather than a few books I picked off some shelf and no romance reader has heard of.
Here’s what I found: yes, she always wins and gets what she wants, yes she is powerful, and yes she is her own person. But when you look deeper, it’s a different story. Sure she gets what she wants, but you have to examine exactly what that is. Often, she is happily absorbed into his world. In historicals she always moves into his house (accurate, but not feminist) and even in comtemps she often begins to move in his world rather than him moving in her world. Sure she’s powerful, but where does she get that power?? In Kenyen’s Unleash the Night, the heroine becomes more powerful but does so at the hands of a man. And the sexual encounters were damning. She is often “possessed” by the man, often this is expressed with that words specifically.
There were of course limitations to the study such as a small sample size. There was also no erotic romance, which I would like to study more. But judging from my personal reading, these findings don’t seem to be anomalous. But perhaps it’s just me.
I do agree that romance is becoming progressively more positive on the female/male portrayal front, it still has some room for improvement.
If you want more proof that Joss Gets It (although I don’t know that many people here need it), check out the speech he gave when he was honoured by Equality Now, an organisation that works for human rights for women.
Joss Whedon really is a god
I’ve watched this repeatedly, and I still get teary towards the end.
Say, Lindsay—any chance you’d be willing to share that paper with the rest of us romance scholars? It’s probably too late for the PCA conference in San Francisco, but there are a few of us out here who’d be very interested in reading it and talking about it! Let me know, or get in touch with Laura, Sarah Frantz, or the rest of the Teach Me Tonight / RomanceScholar crew—
Let’s face it, the youth-and-beauty combo is still largely the norm in romance heroines. Little by little, that’s been changing…but only little by little.
Quite frankly, I’ve never seen anything even remotely redemptive about the introduction of “kick-ass” heroines. They represent yet another impossible-to-meet ideal . . . and, even worse, often conjure images from those sexist fantasy covers someone here just recently described so well. (Hell, I would’ve paid one of Anita Blake’s 3,284 were-nemeses to take her the fuck out. Except, uh…well, they weren’t real.)
When is the genre going to have done with ALL these freakin’ caricatures and start embracing just plain ordinary and flawed “broads” whose attributes are genuinely admirable? Intelligence, sense of humor, compassion, courage, joy in sensuality, etc. etc. have infinitely more appeal than large mamm’s and lightning-fast Ninja moves or trigger fingers.
Is it just me? I think romance objectifies men as much as women, perhaps boiling them down to their “parts” on an even more marginal (or maximized) level.
I don’t think that the power struggle between men and women has anything to do with fantasy, and if anything, romance novels level out that playing field in a way that makes it seem possible that a man and woman can truly understand each other, when in all other aspects of media, the opposite is going on.
I think it’s funny that feminists pick on romance novels as the scourge, when films like Knocked Up are blockbusters.
I sometimes wonder if feminists are afraid to take on what men really think about women, and instead turn their wrath on what women think about women.
And SBSarah, your comments re physicality, wrinkles, pubic hair, reminds me of an article by Naomi Wolfe, The Porn Myth, in which she states that the effect that the porn industry has had on our culture has not been what the feminists of the 60’s so feared (that men would become sexually raging beasts with no self control), but rather a more subversive destruction of the expectation and ideal of what a Real Woman is, in that real sex with a real woman has simply become bad porn.
I think I reached the “end of civilization as we know it point” when I read about women getting plastic surgery on their vulvas because their “nether lips” weren’t attractive enough.
WOMGWTF? Attractive enough for what? Or better question, for whom?
As far as attractive vs. non-attractive heroines, sometimes it’s simply a plot device and if the author handles it well, it can advance the story. If it’s just lazy writing, the reader will know the difference.
Cat, have you tried Natori? When I, let us say, blossemed into a D-cup that was the ONLY brand of bra that worked for me. They’re hella expensive, but worth every penny IMO.
This country has become obssessed with useless celebrities, youth and beauty. Talk shows and reality TV stress that a make over from simple to extreme will guarantee happiness. Women are shown as victims over and over – I don’t watch Oprah. And that’s not counting that morality and vulgarity have become the norm with shows like I love NY, Tea, pairing the geeks with brainless beauties, the smartest model, etc. etc. etc. ad nauseum. This is what our children are watching. This is what they are learning. Forget about manners, there are none. A slap or catfight gets more attention. Come on, throw up on TV. So turn off your TV or change the channel, don’t buy celebrity rags. Who wants to see another crotch close-up of Britney? And as for romance, I buy for enjoyment. I don’t feel brain-washed or exploited by their characters or stories. I can discern that it’s fiction whether the heroine is a sweet, virginal heroine or a kick-ass. But I might get frustrated, forcing me to throw the book against the wall…I’m doing that more and more because I’m out of patience with this endless supply of annoying, super-women.
As to men exploiting or victimizing women…oh please…gagging. I’m not even going to defend that point, that’s so 60’s. No one exploits me, men or women, I don’t let them.
I’m with Xandra and Kalen who mentioned upthread that in many a well-written romance the point is not that the Heroine and Hero are attractive, but attractive to one another. Of course, the key to that is ‘well written’, but that’s true about every qualifier.
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Ha! I tend to agree. And then, of course, we mustn’t forget anal bleaching (so your bung-hole and the crack between your cheeks isn’t so darkly pigmented) and fast-lipo on the pubic mound (so you don’t have a fat crotch), and cutting off the middle part of your toes and having the tips reattached so your toes are shorter. Wow. Scary.
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My, God…yes. You can barely read a romance novel these days without reading about how the guy is blessed with a super-schlong. Amazon has whole message board threads devoted to “Well Endowed Heroes.” ‘Cause that’s all that matters about a guy, after all: the size of his penis.
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I’d like to refer you to MANY of Nora Roberts’ books. The reason I enjoy her books so much is because she writes about grown-up characters with the attributes you describe, plus a few others like maturity and competence and the ability to deal with what life throws at them. Sure…some of the situations in (some of) Nora’s books are a bit…fantastical. But that doesn’t detract from the basic appeal of the characters themselves.
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Nora’s In Death series. I’m sure that one day…in the far off future…Eve and Roarke will have children. But in the meanwhile, children are not part of their HEA and yet, hey…they’re still happy.
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Nora Roberts’ MacGregor Grooms heroine Naomi Brightstone did this, but it’s one of the reasons she remains one of my favorite heroines. She didn’t change for a man. She changed before she met Ian. She changed because SHE wanted to…because she wanted to stop being so shy and so frumpy. She did all the work: started exercsing, lost weight, changed her clothing, redid her hair and makeup, practiced being more assertive. It wasn’t about “landing a guy.” It was about self-discovery and taking proactive measures to be the best person she could be. I think that’s admirable.
It’s not the fabric, it’s the engineering. In my experience, buying a bra that’s exactly the same in all sizes won’t guarantee a good fit (I’m a DD/E). What I pay for is quality of cut and fit.
Cat, have you tried Natori? When I, let us say, blossemed into a D-cup that was the ONLY brand of bra that worked for me. They’re hella expensive, but worth every penny IMO.
Try getting into the larger cup sizes, like FF and G—even J. Most lingerie stores don’t even carry those sizes. I just spent $450 on three bras last month, and only one of them was anything other than utilitarian. Big boobs are a freaking curse.
That said, I love physically flawed characters, both men and women. Scars, crooked teeth, or even just not goodlooking. I’m currently writing a villain who lost half his face to a mace and I have to constantly resist the urge to have some woman see past his disfigurement and cure his evil ways with her luuuurve. Maybe in another book.
Think about it, we, as women are still creating ourselves very much like teenagers. We need ways to explore different possibilities of self that are not destructive. Additionally, we can use this same outlet as a way to experience feelings, emotions and ideals that we would never entertain in our regular lives.
I was thinking about historicals and particularly regencies as having strict structures within which these things are explored. However, it occurred to me that as much as we think things have changed, we are still operating within VERY strict social structures that regulate the way we act, dress, think and do.
Never forget, it is fiction and is read for enjoyment.
Personally, I like romances where the heroine just IS until something specific catches the hero. She has a sexy voice or a decadent laugh. I’m currently devouring “The Serpent Prince” and the hero was snagged by the heroines smile. Since this is my particular secret power, I can identify.
“I’m going to get medieval on the next giant inflatable snow globe I see.”
Kimberly Anne, I got this mental picture of someone using a battleaxe on one of those stupid snow globes and I almost hurt myself laughing. I so want to drive around suburbia with a blow gun.
… and the question of whether the reader relates to the hero, the heroine, or both, or neither, still hasn’t been resolved in my debating mind.
I posed a similar question on another board. Could or would we, as female readers, embrace as enthusiastically a heroine as fundamentally flawed as the hero who engages in the behavior we often read: hard drinking, frequent, meaningless or anonymous sex, emotional unavailability, and the ever-popular major dose of angst.
Not surprisingly, the answers revealed that we relate to the heroine and lust after the hero. We need the heroine to be sympathetic, approachable, desirable—attributes we want people to see in us—because she is us on some level. She isn’t just the narrator or provider of the POV, we relate to her and, therefore, she must be closer to an appealing vision of ourselves.
Hard edges, emotional distance and social ineptness don’t prevent Eve Dallas from being someone we really like, however, because of everything else J. D. Robb brings so expertly to the “In Death” table. Holly Hunter’s Grace Hanadarko, on the other hand, is in-your-face unapologetic about how she lives her life, which makes some viewers of “Saving Grace”—my favorite show—uncomfortable.
I agree with SB Sarah – that’s why I tore out the last few chapters of “Wishes” by Jude Devereaux. I loved the first part, where they were walking on the wall, snapping green beans and eating apples, but heavens forfend that there should be a happy ending for a fat woman that doesn’t involve magically losing 60 pounds. *grrrr* And the one sex scene in the book? Came after the presto-chango. ‘Cause fat chicks aren’t sexy, dontchaknow.
I’m more offended by the books that try to subvert the stereotype, but do the Utter Fail. I read a light, fluffy supernatural romance a few months ago wherein the heroine was annoyed with her breasts because they were too big.
Oh, word. I read an excerpt a few days ago wherein a heroine bemoaned her full breasts and small waist. And, God damn it, her mouth was too full. Don’t you just hate that?
It drives me nuts. Judith MacNaught heroines used to make me batty, all that gleaming, innocent perfection.
I love to read about beautiful heroines who know the power they wield over men. That’s interesting. The other ones, the ones who have the bodies of porn stars and the self-confidence of aging spinsters make my blood boil.
There were a couple of Shannon Mckenna’s I read recently where I basically ended up imagining the heroine as a blow-up doll, so objectified was she by the hero. She was tits and an ass. It was both hilarious and alarming.
It’s the heroines that are idiosyncratic, who you see through the eyes of the hero who really stick. I still remember the slight imperfection of Submit’s teeth (Black Silk), Rachel’s silvering hair (To Have and to Hold). Jonna’s flattened mouth and the dimple that appeared when she was annoyed (My Reckless Heart).
The anodyne, paint-by-number heroines in their unrelenting and equally bland legion- who can tell them apart?