D-
Genre: Historical: Other, Romance
I’m currently at page 216 of a book that I had to talk about to someone. I first tried to talk with my husband about it, but he doesn’t read romances and can’t really get into a conversation about the merits (or lack there of) of one. So I emailed Candy and Sarah to see if they’d read it. Neither of them has, but Sarah thought that my take on it might be of interest, so here we are.
The book is Devil’s Embrace, by Catherine Coulter. According to the back of the book, it was originally published in 1982. Also, according to the back cover, Coulter “updated it stylistically, edited it, trimmed it just a bit, and the art department designed a splendid new cover that magically includes some of the original artwork.”
I will say now that I’ve never read the original, so I don’t know how much of what I have to say only pertains to this reissued version. I also want to firmly establish the fact that I like Coulter’s writing a great deal and own several of her books at this very moment. If it wasn’t for the fact that I like her books so much, I wouldn’t have succumbed to the lure of this book, sitting in the grocery store, all shiny and inexpensive, whispering “You know you don’t have anything new to read at home right now” when a saner voice was trying to remind me that first books from favorite authors, especially from the early 1980s, are often a bit of a disappointment.
I wish that “a bit of a disappointment” were the extent of this book’s problems.
I know that the whole captor-captive rape fantasy was a big part of the romances in the 1980s. And, hey, I can get behind a rape fantasy or two. I didn’t mind the Johanna Lindsey one with the pirate and the platinum blond too much and I distinctly remember liking me some sheikh/captive books back in the day. For that matter, Suzanne Forster’s Blush (1996) and her Innocence (1997) played with the whole captor-captive theme and those books were hot enough to scorch your fingers.
But this book…wow.
It starts out with this guy, Edward, coming home from the Army because he has to assume the title. He’s a Viscount. There’s a girl, Cassandra, aka Cassie, and she’s loved him and planned to marry him since she was about 8 years old. They’ve been exchanging letters, secretly, since she was 15 and he first went away. (Well, it wasn’t a secret from her brother, just from her governess/companion.) Cassie likes to sail her own little sailboat, fish in the ocean, and swim in the ocean (with no chaperone and in a shift, of course, because so many well-bred women of her time did). When Edward comes home finally, his first sight of her is her coming out of the ocean, with her shift all wet and transparent. Before he finds out that it’s Cassie, he’s thinking that he wants a piece of that. *cue ominous music* Well, after he finds out, he still wants a piece of that but since she’s a lady and he’s planning to marry her, he can’t have any of that until they’re legally wedded. So, she flat out tells him that since he’s home now and she’s 18, they’re getting married. He’s onboard with that and asks her brother, who’s thrilled. The only person not happy about is the woman who’s been like a mother to her, Cassie’s governess/companion, who dislikes the Viscount intensely for no obvious reason. *cue more ominous music, only with more strings—probably cellos* She’s been like a mother to Cassie because Cassie’s mother died in childbirth. (The dad kicked off, too, but it’s not very clear about when that happened.)
So, things are going well. Cassie’s happy to be marrying the man she loves and she’s pretty interested in the whole sexual vibe between them. Edward’s happy to marrying the woman he loves and he’s pretty interested in the whole sexual vibe between them. The brother is happy that his sister is happy. Only governess/companion is unhappy and trying to talk Cassie into delaying the whole thing.
This is the first 35-40 pages of the book.
Then, the day before Cassie’s wedding, the governess/companion suggests Cassie get some fresh air. She takes her little boat out to do just that when she sees a much larger yacht named The Cassandra (Hello? Clue?? Anyone??). When said yacht nearly swamps her little boat and then captures it, she’s sure she’s about to be taken by white slavers. But who should jump aboard her ship from The Cassandra? Why, it’s the kindly gentleman who was a friend of the family for as long as she can remember, Anthony Welles, Earl of Claire. Hurray! He isn’t a white slaver! He’s the man who aided her brother when their father died. He’s the man she’s always considered an “indulgent uncle”. Apparently, he’s also the man who was desperately in lust with her mother even though she was about 6 years older than him and when he went to find her again, found her very married and very pregnant (and then she had the discourtesy as to die, apparently). He’s the man who, when he saw Cassie at 14 and saw that she was the “image of her mother”, he was “drawn” to her. When she was 17, he decided he had to have her for himself. He’s the man who has apparently been paying the governess/companion to rear Cassie to his specifications (he’s half Italian and she’s been taught Italian, etc.) and to help him kidnap her. He’s the man that forces her onto his yacht and then destroys her boat on the rocks so everyone will think she is dead. To sum up, he’s a crazy, obsessed, stalker who couldn’t get the mother so he’s transferred his crazy, obsessed stalker-y to the daughter. He’s the pseudo-uncle, so he’s crazy, obsessed, stalker-y pseudo-incest guy! He’s 34; she’s 18! When he first decided that Cassie was his, he was 30 years old and she was 14!! He’s crazy, obsessed, stalker-y, pseudo-incest-y, pedophile guy!! He tells her that he’s taking her to Italy and they are getting married, despite any objections she might have to the whole scenario and that’s that. After all, she’ll “come to understand”.
She says repeatedly that she hates him and that she wants him dead when she’s not trying to fight him off physically and he basically thinks it’s cute. She says that she loves Edward, has always loved Edward, and won’t ever feel anything but hate for this guy and he tells her that “her turbulent girl’s infatuation for” the Viscount would not have lasted. If he were the villain, I could live with this, but this guy is the hero?? Then he rapes her because “to allow [her] to continue in [her] virgin state would be the height of foolishness, for it would encourage [her] to nourish unfounded hopes” and we’re supposed to think he’s a good guy because he used some sort of lubricant! And then….then he lets her steer his yacht. You know, because she loves to sail and because, of course, Edward would never let her sail once they’re married (not that he ever said that, mind you, we’re just supposed to take Lord Creepy Uncle’s word for it). And of course, she starts to relax her guard some—the day after he raped her—because he let her steer the boat! And then he rapes her again that night and she can’t help but come all over him—because passion is a mighty force that cannot be denied between some people (per Lord Creepy Uncle).
The last straw for me was when she woke up the third morning, feeling guilty for betraying Edward by responding to Lord Creepy Uncle and ponders whether she was ever really sexually attracted to Edward or if she’d just been “curious”. Okay, in all honesty, that was only the first of the “last straws” for me because I keep getting sucked back in to see if it is going to get worse. Then I hit another “last straw”, put it down for a couple of days, and come back. Which is why I’m stalled at page 216.
One of the major problems is the characterization. Cassie is plot-dumb and it drives me crazy when a character is stupid and incurious whenever the plot necessitates her to be stupid and incurious. For example, Lord Creepy Uncle is the one to tell her, all smugly and prideful, when she’s pregnant! (Because how else could we yet again affirm that Cassie is all that is innocence and light if she actually figured out for herself, “Hmmmmmm, I’m throwing up constantly for no obvious reason but I feel fine in the afternoon. He only lets me wear my nightgown when I’m on my period and I haven’t worn one in forever! We’ve had sex every day, sometimes several times a day, and the governess/companion did have that embarrassing sex talk with me before I was kidnapped, and I was raised in the country” If the girl got hit any harder with the Clue Bat, she’d be concussed!)
Even more maddening, Cassie doesn’t once go—“How did he know I was going to be out today? How does he know about the letters I was secretly exchanging with Edward while he was away in the Army? How did he know what size I wear to fill the closets with all of these sumptuous clothes? The governess/companion insisted I learn Italian—what a coincidence I was captured by a man who is half Italian and plans to take me to Italy! The governess/companion sent me out for “fresh air” the day before the wedding to a man that she hates for no reason and look who shows up!” Mind you, she remarks on all of this whenever yet another glaringly obvious clue smacks her in the face but she is seemingly incapable of following up on these questions, even in her own head, before she is—OH LOOK! SHINY!
Also, it just irritates the hell out of me that I’m supposed to believe the rapacious Earl as a hero and all of this as so very romantic. Are you kidding me?? He is one of the most unlikable “heroes” I’ve ever encountered! It’s not just his actions, it’s his attitude and what he says and whenever he’s on the page, I just wish that someone with more brains (and maybe more balls) would smash his face in! And it often appears that Coulter realized that he wasn’t likable and that it was very easy to draw unwanted comparisons to the Arabic pirate/slaver villain in the book because even dumb-as-a-post Cassie notices this. That would at least explain the random scene at the dinner party where Cassie sits in on a business meeting between Anthony and one of his shipping partners. The partner feels that they can recoup some losses by shipping and selling slaves in the Colonies. Cassie makes some mighty smart-mouthed remarks (because it’s necessary to prove that she’s as spirited/feisty/yadda yadda yadda as the hero often states that she is) and then offers a brilliant solution for recouping some of those losses without shipping/selling slaves (because it’s time to show she’s actually as intelligent as the hero often states she is – and what better way than having an 18-year old who thinks being in trade is beneath someone of their class and who has never been exposed to anything to do with trade, in general, and shipping, specifically, be some sort of genius with the perfect idea of what to do?).
When the business partner concedes that this is, indeed, a brilliant solution that he himself never even considered (because he has to be plot-stupid, too, if this scene is going to work) but that it won’t make as much money as slaving would, Good Ole Lord Creepy Uncle says that they will leave the slaving to “other, less scrupulous” men. See! He’s really a Good Guy! He’s not like that pirate/slaver with the Arabic name and the harem slave girls! He won’t trade slaves – just stalk and kidnap girls! And only this one girl! And he’s only letting the people who love her think she’s dead for a while – just until she agrees to marry him and settles into her new life! If he were the villain and I knew that he was going to die some horrible death like, maybe, she shoots him in the head, feeds him to sharks and steers his yacht off into the sunset, it wouldn’t bother me nearly as much. In fact, she does shoot him once. She wounds him while trying to escape, even though she desperately doesn’t want to, because he’s not such a bad man! (For an asshole?) But when he jumps into the ocean after her, he begins to flounder because she wounded him and she is so overwhelmed by guilt and concern that the stupid twit rescues him! And then she nurses him back to health!
Perhaps you’ve thought, “Okay, maybe his crew is blindly loyal to him and they wouldn’t help her, despite how they all instantly lurvvvve her and admire her and call her “Madonna” (because she’s so completely and instantly captivating by all who see her, except for anyone that might actually want to help her). But the girl speaks Italian! Why wouldn’t she tell someone, like her maid (who lurvvvveeesss her) or the housekeeper (who is nasty to her because she thinks Cassie is a dirty whore for cohabitating without marriage with the Lord)? Because the plot says she doesn’t!
And perhaps you noticed when I was talking about the business meeting that Cassie was at a dinner party, presumably with other highborn people who might be appalled that Lord Creepy Uncle kidnapped and repeatedly raped her, a Lady? How did that work, you might say? Well, he gave her a new boat to make up for the one he smashed. It’s on a small lake, so she can’t actually go anywhere, but he gave her a boat. And she gushed and mewled because, you know, it’s a boat! And she loves to sail and fish! Because that’s just the kind of plucky girl she is! All she has to do to keep the boat is to not say anything about this situation (and, because she’s still refusing to marry him, allow everyone to think that she’s his mistress that he’s moved in)! And she does! Because the plot requires it!
Oh, and we’re supposed to believe that Edward, her Viscount fiance, is a bad man (at least not hero material) because he might object to her sailing by herself? Also, he ogled her when he saw her from a distance in a wet, nearly-transparent shift and thought she was just some girl from town and he slept with another woman a week before he went home to see Cassie again. Of course, we’re never actually shown any reason why this man isn’t the man for her or why she should forget him or even why the Earl is a better match for her. Edward slept with someone else!
Apparently, the fact that he can even consider sex with someone else besides Cassie is the Big Sign that he’s not the True and Everlasting Love. Nevermind that Lord Anthony has his own mistress – excuse me, former mistress – just waiting back home to be mean to his “bride.” Oh, and of course, the former mistress is having villain-sex with the Earl’s half-brother because we must establish firmly that she wasn’t just promiscuous enough to voluntarily sleep with the Earl, she’s such a slut, she will sex up the brother too. Because she’s BAD! Bad and evil! Because all beautiful, sexy, sexual, confident, independently wealthy, widowed women are bad. Those traits, after all, are sure signs of her vast insecurities, insecurities that will no doubt lead to bitter jealousy, various vile acts, and probably death.
When I told my husband about this book and about how much I hated the hero, he said that maybe Edward does come to the rescue in the end. I told him that the back cover indicates that this is the Couple—and besides, Lord Creepy Uncle got her virginity and, by canon, he who get-eth the virginity get-eth the hero status. Candy reminded me that the true clincher was that Cassie came all over the Earl the second time he raped her because he who makes her come, gets the prize. She’s right – Anthony deflowered Cassie and made her come, so she’s pretty much done for. Because the heroine must never have good sex with anyone other than her One True and Everlasting Love. It’s the “tell.” She can have truly horrifying sexual experiences that leave her emotionally and psychologically scarred and she can have sex that is so lackluster as to be nearly inconsequential (with previous husbands in historicals or previous boyfriends in contemporaries) but orgasms only happen with True and Everlasting guy.
Despite my ranting above, for a first book, the story pacing isn’t too bad and the prose only hits the occasional shades of lavender. The dialogue clunks a bit here and there, but again, first book. Stylistically, it wouldn’t bother me too much and if I were to give it a grade just based on that, I’d probably give it a C. However, in terms of content, this is one of the worst romances I’ve ever read—or maybe it’s worse for me because I generally really like her stuff and this is such a disappointment. I don’t know. I do know that the heroine is stupid and the hero should be fed to sharks.
So, D-
~Tina
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And people wonder why, in these modern times, there are still women who can’t seem to understand what abuse is? Or rape?
I often wondered if the many, many young girls who were told to shut up, or told they were liars, or told they were whores in my own era (I graduated HS in the 80s) by their own mothers were victims of the subcultural subliminal.
I just gotta say I feel icky just reading the review. I can’t imagine actually reading the book. Ick. Rape and gang rape and a miscarriage. That is not what I call romance.
Thank you for letting us all know what lurks behind the shiny cover.
As horrifying as these stories are, I did read them in the 80’s, and because while my first venture into sex was willing, it wasn’t all that great, it was easier to go with the romance idea of forced sex back then. (Of course we all bought the Laura/Luke relationship, too, on General Hospital. Apparently the 80’s were a big time for believing that women often fall in love with their rapists. What the ****?)
What upsets me the most is that these authors are re-releasing this stuff. They didn’t make enough money off of the first release of this morally bankrupt garbage? Did they say to themselves, “Hey, I need to make x-amount of money this year, but cannot write another new word. I know let’s re-release “dated novel I” which was barely tolerable when it was first published, but I’ll re-work it slightly and make it all better….” NOT!
I vaguely recall this book from its first incarnation. I also used to read Barbara Cartland, but I’m not going to pick up any of her books again either. The time and place for this is past. No matter what these books originally provided for me back in my late teens, I have moved on. I just wish the authors and the publishers would, too.
Sounds like almost every Rosemary Rogers book I’ve ever read. She had a propensity for gang rape too.
“I was totally gonna make sure you had a good time BUT I CANNOT RESIST†(and then he falls asleep) while she says, “Ow, wait, what?â€
This just sounds so personally familiar to me… but was she asleep at the time, too?
This book… wow. Horrors galore. Can’t wait for the PS post!
Even when she’s a grandmother, her lovely lady lumps are both pulling small planets out of their orbits and somehow still perky and luscious.
Laughing. My. ASS. Off!!!
Okay, just finished reading the comment thread (posted that one midway through) and now feel physically ill. Raped and beat her until she miscarried, had to get sewn up on the inside, etc… dear lord, someone pass a bucket. This is hideous.
And the reviewers DEFENDING it make me even sicker. Especially the one who said some variation of, “The bad rape scene was the one with 4 guys, but the Earl, he just ‘forced’ her and that wasn’t so bad.” THE HELL YOU SAY.
I am revolted, disgusted… words fail me. I’d thought about picking this up for the trainwreck value, but no frickin way. I cried with joy when I held my friend’s 9 hour old son today, a perfect, warm, cuddly bundle. Reading this review is seriously harshing my sweet-baby-buzz.
So I probably shouldn’t mention this is my all-time favorite romance ever?
Honestly, I didn’t realize it got this bad because I hadn’t read that far when I wrote the initial guest review.
Sorry, y’all.
I just re-read this
and I was trying to figure out who in this thread that was. And then I thought, I wonder if she took my second paragraph…
as “defense” of what was in this book. No, that was me being sarcastic, like with the review. In re-reading that, however, I can see where someone could misconstrue it, not hearing the tone that I hear in my head as I type.
If you weren’t referring to this, then I apologize for being paranoid, but I just wanted to make it clear that I in no way condone what anyone did in this book (including re-publishing it). The characters, with only the exception of Edward and Cassie’s brother thus far, are almost uniformly horrible. The men, in particular, are either condesending-dismissive-rapist-assholes, viciously-violent-rapist-assholes, or just completely ineffectual. As I said at the end of the comment I’m referring to in this one, I still think the “hero” and the other 4 should all die horribly.
I just finished reading it. I kept thinking somehow this hero was going to redeem himself. But even near the end, I wanted to slap him.
And Edward (the one she was supposed to marry, then was kidnapped by the hero a day before the wedding) seemed so much more honorable and “hero” material.
Oh yes, I forgot. Edward wasn’t good in bed.
Yes, that’s right. In addition to being gang raped. She slept with both the Creep Uncle Hero and Edward!
Okay, yes, I’ve slept with more than one man. But we are talking historical romance here. Those heroines (according to me) are only supposed to be with one man!
Definitely not one of my favorites. Still, I did read the whole thing (beginning yesterday and just finishing up this evening). So it did hold my interest and I didn’t fling it aside.
I enjoyed Coulter’s Legacy series and I still pick up her Sherbrooke books.
Devil’s Embrace marks the ONLY time I have ever started a series and not picked up the next book(s). I kept reading DE because I assumed there had to be some sort of redemption before it ended. Boy, was I wrong. I couldn’t stomach the idea of any more of the story so I never picked up the second one.
In retrospect, there are a lot of seriously screwed up sexual encounters in Coulter’s work.
I can actually say that I read the original and it sounds pretty close to the revised edition. Trust me, you wouldn’t want to read the sequel either (Devil’s Daughter). It has a little revenge from the son of an ex-mistress who was sold into white slavery (I think) or something by kidnapping the daughter of Anthony and Cassie.
After reading some of those Amazon reviews, I’m feeling a little despair for the human race.
“It’s okay that he raped her b/c he really loved her, and he just wanted to show her.”
“He was really respectful! He didn’t force her to marry him—he wanted to wait until she was ready!” (But not, apparently, enough to NOT rape her.)
“When she slept with her fiance it was almost as disgusting as the gang-rape.”
The first one is the worst, though. It’s okay that he raped her b/c he loved her? The HELL? And more than once person actually says this?
Well, ladies, if (God forbid) you’re ever raped, just remember—he was probably just really in love with you, so it’s okay. (Oh, and if you happen to have an orgasm from it, which does happen, unfortunately, I guess that means it wasn’t rape, since you “enjoyed it.”) Ah, the wisdom of Amazon.
I read this book when I was about 14 and it burned a hole in my brain. I’d forgotten the title and author, and was this close to asking for the Help a Bitch Out reminder. I couldn’t think of a good reason other than it was driving me crazy. You guys are so good, I didn’t even have to ask.
I read a Coulter book from the 80s a few years ago… I think I still have it somewhere, though I’ve steadfastly blocked the title out of my memory. Traumatic experiences and all that. I just remember that the whole book (past, maybe, the first 30 pages) made me want to hurl all over the place. Only my lack of matches (and lack of a mode of transportation to buy matches/refusal to waste anymore money on the piece of filth) saved it from a fiery death.
Now that I think of it, I should’ve just tossed it in the fireplace.
Oh my god, I totally read this book in my teens. Back then I had no real standards for romance; I just wanted a hero and heroine to have some drama and learn they couldn’t live without each other, and I’d read any romance I could lay my hands on. But I distinctly remember being horrified by this book, even with my non-existent standards. I think it may have been this book, in fact, that clued me in that hey, there are good romances and there are downright dreadful romances.
The “hero” is the most despicable character I’ve ever come across in a romance. It’s not just the fact that he kidnaps her and rapes her repeatedly. It’s that he does all this because he was obsessed with her MOTHER and therefore in his twisted mind has to possess the daughter, which is his link to the mother, etc. It is so beyond creepy I can’t even tell you. He doesn’t rape Cassie because he loves her; he does it because he’s still freakily attached to her mom. That I was supposed to support and cheer on this ghastly hero, as well as believe that the heroine could actually fall in love with him, I found downright insulting.
I had completely forgotten the author and title of this book, as well as how it ended. Back then I pretty much read everything cover-to-cover no matter what, so either I wiped it from my memory or truly didn’t finish it. If you ever make it to the end, Tina, I’d love to hear just how bad it gets and your reaction – that was a great review!
And yeah, the first time he rapes her and takes her virginity, he’s tied her hands to the bedposts with scarves or whatever and she’s crying the whole time. That’s the thing I remember most clearly from this book, and that is not romantic. At all.
Just want to comment on the re-releasing of books, and the thought that this is the writer’s decision.
It’s usually not. Unless the rights have reverted back to the writer, this is a publisher decision.
Sometimes it may be a mutual decision, but very often, the writer has no control.
This book sounds like it could rival the all worst romance I ever read for sheer offensiveness and awful hero characters.
The one I read was called ‘At First Glance’ or something similar, which was meant to be very clever because the heroine was blind. Except the hero can’t stand the fact that she’s visually impaired, and, because it bugs HIM so much (she’s fine with it), he decides her condition is caused is primarily psychological, so imprisons her and forces the poor woman to undergo numerous painful seizures/psychotic episodes for a week until she remembers the trauma that made her lose her sight.
Oh yeah and he buys her from a brothel and rapes her too, but that’s fine because she was drugged at the time and supposedly enjoyed it.
But then of course, she settles down and becomes a compliant baby machine by the end of the book, whilst he never even has to apologise for brutalising her. Shame of it was, I really liked her as a character. Anyone else noticed the phenomenon of the heroine not only giving birth by the end of the book, but always having a male child?
bugger – ‘all TIME worst’ romance, I mean.
My words is clearly 92 – clearly I should edit more diligently after having 2 glasses of wine.
Everyone is judging this book simply as a work of fiction, and yes, as reading for pleasure, it sounds perfectly outrageous.
However, in terms of social history, this kind of thing is absolutely fascinating, and well worth studying. Not only were there women in the 1980s who enjoyed reading this kind of tale: there still are, even though I have the impression that the extremes have moved out of historical fiction and into the increasingly popular areas of fantasy fiction.
The act of receiving information and processing it in one’s brain is vastly complex and above all, highly selective and interpretative. I have said to those who enjoy vampire fantasies, ‘how can you stand the idea of the bloodsucking?’, and have been told that these readers often do not think about it ‘literally’. There is a mental redaction that makes it ‘not real’ as it would be if I were to read it. In the same way, many women were, and are, able to perceive forced sex in a curiously edited fashion when it is a sexual fantasy. It isn’t, to them, anything like the same as a real rape would be.
No doubt professional psychologists have terms for all these things, but I invite all of you, here, to think of some sexual fantasy that turns you on when you read or imagine it, but would be wholly unacceptable to you in real life. I should be surprised if most people can’t think of even one.
I am not defending the book in question (I haven’t read it, and have no wish to do so): I am merely trying to point out that we all mentally edit what we read all the time, and literal perceptions are rare.
Even almost more disturbing than the book itself, is some of the reviews.
At the risk of sounding literaryly (I know – not a real word) snobbish – reading some of those positive reviews is somewhat scary! First off for their praise of this book and then for the grammar and spelling in many of them!
Yes – I read those 80’s books and at the time they might have worked, but that was then and this is now and how some of those reviewers can condone the kind of behaviour of those 80’s heroes by todays standards is rather frightening!!
I see what you’re saying, AgTigress, but I think the comparison to vampire romances is a little misleading:
I have said to those who enjoy vampire fantasies, ‘how can you stand the idea of the bloodsucking?’, and have been told that these readers often do not think about it ‘literally’. There is a mental redaction that makes it ‘not real’ as it would be if I were to read it.
And the reason why I think it’s misleading? Vampires are literally not real. There might be people who like to pretend to be vampires, there might be people who suffer from porphyria, which is *like* vampirism in the whole garlic/sunlight thing, but vampires? Not real.
Rape is a very real thing, and while I don’t necessarily judge rape fantasies, I am profoundly disturbed by the way this book has been received on Amazon (for example). Even our reviewer, Tina, admits to enjoying the occasional captive/captor rape-fantasy novels. This book sounds like it goes beyond. By comparing the kinds of rapes, for example, it creates an appalling double standard that attempts to justify marital rape or something similar.
Personally, I think books that have women falling in love with their rapists are profoundly offensive, b/c they trivialize the reality of rape and the seriousness of its impact on its victims. Many of the early historicals included rape, some of which, I’m given to understand, was actually somewhat repented of? I just have a sense that, even for the time in which it was written, this book is beyond the pale, and, more importantly, the story is so blatantly uncritical of the hero’s actions that it more or less sets up his behavior as something to be admired.
If you really want to look at it as social history, I’d want to know why rape fantasies were supposedly so prevalent that practically all early romances featured them. I honestly think it was partly b/c rape was not yet treated with the seriousness it deserved. I saw somebody on Jezebel comment the other day that back in her day “there was no such thing as date rape. There were dates that got out of hand, but you learned from that.” What the hell kind of world is that? It sounds an awful lot like the one where this book would be a great romance story.
Snarkhunter, I understand you perfectly, and I, too, think that rape is entirely too real to be treated in any way that underplays or disguises its horror in the real world. My point is simply that our minds constantly edit the fiction/reality balance, and we do not make the kinds of connections we make when reading a news item. The fact that something can and does happen in real life does not alter our perception when reading it as fiction.
My vampire example (or I could have chosen others, such as the bestiality fantasies in shape-shifter stories) was therefore not ideal. Let us take an example that is not ‘fantasy’ like the (to me) digusting vampires.
Quite a number of women are turned on by the ‘sex-in-a-public-place’ fantasy. This is perfectly possible: it actually happens. But I submit that a significant proportion of those women who are sexually excited by the thought of having full sexual intercourse in a public place and in view of other people, would actually have their libido turned off completely if their partner tried to put it into practice. This is what I mean by the disconnect between the fantasy element and everyday life.
Even more simply: how many readers who enjoy sexual orgy scenes involving several participants in fiction would actually wish to have group sex in real life? I am pretty sure that there are more people who enjoy fantasising about it than there are those who actually do it. I cannot cite any statistical proof, but I am fairly sure I am right. I was a young adult in the 1960s, and I am not wholly an innocent.
Most of us are able to read accounts of gruesome murders that would make us physically ill if we encountered them in real life, and the fact that a story is fictional – even though it may be about things that really do happen – in itself interposes a blurring veil between the reader and the events described. Our focus is partial, and under control. And the whole thing is under control in a way that reality is not.
I could write at length about the changing attitudes to, and definitions of, rape, but this is not the place. I am one of those literal-minded people who loathes and detests stories that ‘re-write’ history: any form of alternative history offends me. Every time I complain, others say, ‘But this is FICTION: everyone KNOWS it was different in real life’. Quite so. Rape is different in fiction and in real life. I am not defending it, because I find the subject as distasteful as you do, but trying to explain.
I understood what you were saying—hell, I love a good threesome story, myself, but I can’t imagine I’d ever actually want to be in one. I’m just wondering if this book doesn’t somehow present a unique challenge to that reality/fiction divide—I feel like Coulter may have actually gone beyond the standard. I don’t know. I deliberately avoid novels with sexual assault in them, as much as I can, b/c I *can’t* separate those emotions, any more than you can disregard historical accuracy.
As for “rewriting history,” I always question issues of “historical fact,” b/c…whose history? History’s always more complicated than people imagine—there was a discussion on Dear Author a couple of weeks ago on a book query. The novel was set in post-WWI New York, and involved a gay couple. People were having a hard time swallowing the historical reality of that, b/c they really believed no one could be even semi-closeted in pre-1950s America. Which is inaccurate.
I’m not calling out your taste or your distaste for alternate histories, or questioning your credentials on that front. Just…furthering the conversation.
I think the comparison to vampire romances is a little misleading … And the reason why I think it’s misleading? Vampires are literally not real. … Rape is a very real thing, and while I don’t necessarily judge rape fantasies, I am profoundly disturbed by the way this book has been received on Amazon
I disagree, snarkhunter. I’ll follow AgTigress and say that readers redact by their own standards, which may or may not include the relative realism of a plot point. Some find it easier to read about a car crash than about a pet dying; some are laissez-faire about anything that happens *in fiction*; some are bothered by rape but turned on by incest.
I think books that have women falling in love with their rapists are profoundly offensive, b/c they trivialize the reality of rape and the seriousness of its impact on its victims. … If you really want to look at it as social history, I’d want to know why rape fantasies were supposedly so prevalent that practically all early romances featured them. I honestly think it was partly b/c rape was not yet treated with the seriousness it deserved.
I read recently that rape fantasies are as popular now as they ever were. My reaction wasn’t “O death and begonias, we’re not progressing as a society”. It made me curious about the extent to which the rape fantasy is individual, not about social conditions—and what it means to different individuals. I also wouldn’t assume that someone who likes rape fantasy has positive feelings toward rape itself. I believe they’re quite different. So I can imagine that someone might actually like that aspect of the book, while disliking the sexist standards of the day.
‘…readers redact by their own standards, which may or may not include the relative realism of a plot point. Some find it easier to read about a car crash than about a pet dying;’
Exactly. We all have tripwire places, where the fictional world can no longer function for us and reality insists upon intruding. These tripwires vary on an individual and also a cultural basis. People often say things like, ‘I was quite enjoying the book until the rape/incest/child abuse/animal abuse scene, but after that I couldn’t take it – that was too much for me’. In fact, it was the point where the reality of something vicious broke through that shifting, nebulous curtain between fantasy and reality for that particular reader. The fictional context then evaporates completely.
All I am asking is this: when analysing a book that seems revolting to us, but is, or was, apparently acceptable to other readers, that we should always be conscious of this reality/fantasy disconnection, and be aware that a person who is (even shamefacedly) sexually thrilled by the idea of an abusive ‘hero’ is probably very unlikely to be casual about real rape.
as “defense†of what was in this book. No, that was me being sarcastic, like with the review. In re-reading that, however, I can see where someone could misconstrue it, not hearing the tone that I hear in my head as I type.
If you weren’t referring to this, then I apologize for being paranoid, but I just wanted to make it clear that I in no way condone what anyone did in this book (including re-publishing it).
Posted by Tina on 02/12 at 06:39 PM
Tina, don’t worry. I think the comments referred to are the ones in the Amazon thread.
Roslyn:
“Rosemary Rogers.” Oh, just hearing that name makes me want to throw things against the wall. HATE.
My rules for keeping my blood pressure down include the following:
No 70’s or early 80’s romances.
No early Palmer, Coulter or Lowell.
I think I read this book when I was about 15, and it definitely stuck with me. Not the plot, of course, but the many sex scenes, in particular the gang rape towards the end.
If I remember correctly, the heroine is not only gang raped, but sodomized, and then her husband insists on sewing her up afterwards. Which sounds utterly repellent now that I’m typing it, but at the time, a lot of books were like that.
I understand, but I can’t really get behind, the outrage people express about these books. I don’t feel like I was harmed by them in any way, even though I read them at an impressionable age. I never for one instant thought any of it was real. I read a lot of fantasy at the time, too, and romance just seemed like a particular kind of (sex-filled) fantasy.
AgTigress, my problem with the reviews on Amazon has nothing to do with rape fantasies vs. rape in real life. For me, it’s what seems to be the inability for many reviewers to accept that the hero has raped the heroine. If the reviewers said “Yeah, he raped her, but it turned me on,” it would be much less offensive than “He didn’t rape her, because it was love and he didn’t hurt her.”
Yes, I understand what you are saying, but this is where we get to the vexed question of the changing definitions of ‘rape’. We now have both popular and legal definitions of sexual violence that are markedly different from those that existed in the past (I said I wouldn’t go into this, and I certainly can’t begin to discuss it fully).
I’m sure all of you know that the concept of ‘rape within marriage’ was legally invalid in the past, on the grounds that by marrying a man, a woman gave permanent consent to sex whenever and however desired by her husband. However undesired by the victim, a husband could not, in law, RAPE his wife. Consequently, the chief image of rape in the minds of many women 50 years ago was the scenario of a complete stranger sexually assaulting a woman. That has changed, and rightly so, not only in law but in general public perceptions of morality: just as many other concepts of both law and ethics have changed a lot in the last few decades.
The relevance of this is that it is quite conceivable that there are women who genuinely believe that if a man loves a woman, what he does to her when forcing her to have sex is not rape, but something else: they may consider that rape is defined by the motivation of the male, rather than by the female’s lack of consent, which is now the element that is seen as crucial in the definition.
Again, I am most emphatically not advocating this way of viewing it, merely pointing out that we do not always define words and concepts in the same way (think of the many misunderstandings that arise because of the differences between American and British English). The explanations or excuses given by some reviewers (I haven’t looked at the reviews) may be posited on a completely different initial definition of the crime.
I agree! Maybe it’s a defensive reaction on their part, ie, they liked the book, they liked the sex, whatever, but they can’t bring themselves to acknowledge that what they liked was a rape fantasy, so they trot out the justifications. At least, I hope that’s the case. Otherwise, I hope they never sit on a jury adjudicating a date rape case.
Personally, I know the difference between fantasy and reality (#1 clue, fantasies don’t hurt) and it was never the core fantasy of this book that bothered me so much.
The main problems I had with this rape fantasy was 1) he was a trusted friend of the family—a “kindly” uncle of sorts. What he did was a major betrayal of trust to her and to her brother, who looked up to him. Talk about shades of the Catholic Church scandals, as well as all of the Scout leaders, camp counselors, coaches, and teachers that we’ve seen in the news. That’s not sexy—that’s just this side of child abuse! 2) He treats her like a child throughout the book—and he probably would do that because he’s known her since she was a child and he’s old enough to be her father. He’s condescending, dismissive of her feelings, and a flat-out jerk. None of that reads as “Alpha male hero” to me. I read it and think, “I wish she’d kick the asshat in the balls!” 3) Coulter threw in a graphic, violent, vicious rape scene in a seeming attempt to show that what he was doing was okay and that it was not really rape. It was yet another extraneous, albeit distinctly more disturbing, scene to show that he was the Good Guy. If that’s not the case, it certainly the way that I interpreted it, so she missed the mark somewhere. That’s right up there with the comments on Amazon saying it’s “not really rape”, if not more so, since the author was the one who made the implication. That’s just so eggregiously WRONG.
Incidentally, I think it is easier to put the physical act of forced sex into the compartment marked, ‘fantasy – nothing to do with real life’ than some of the other abuse that has occurred in category romances in the past.
If you don’t know it, take a look at Elizabeth Lowell’s Too Hot to Handle (Silhouette, 1986). In that, the horrible ‘hero’ practises a sustained and systematic campaign of vicious mental cruelty against the heroine, which she puts up with in the saintly spirit of the medieval Patient Griselda. It is quite extraordinary.
It is that kind of story, rather than the lurid and improbable excesses of the bodice-ripper, than I find really creepy. And yes, if you go to Amazon, you will find that some reviewers regard Too Hot to Handle as ‘really romantic’. It has been reprinted more than once, too.
Of course, the real difference between real rape and rape fantasy is that in the latter, YOU ARE IN TOTAL CONTROL OF WHAT IS HAPPENING. This also applies to rape in fiction. If it’s not YOUR fantasy, it’s “real” rape and NOT A GOOD THING.
This is why I have a problem with the “forcible” seduction in some of Linda Howard’s books. Even though it occurs in the context of an established sexual relationship, it’s still too much of the typical alpha “I know what you need/want better than you do” attitude that makes me want to give the guy a good swift kick in his windswept desire.
try81—Tried ‘em, didn’t like ‘em. On to the ‘82 romances…
Tina—it was my comment you were referring to (about comments defending the rape or calling it a rape fantasy, etc) and have no fear, I was reacting to the Amazon reviews, not yours. I found yours to be right on the money.
What happened to Cassie in this book isn’t a rape fantasy. It’s an actual *rape* complete with physical restraint and all the emotional pain and violation that goes with it. Can’t do it, nope, doesn’t float my boat, but like y’all said, if the reviewers had written, “Yeah, it was rape, but it still turned me on,” it’d be much easier for me to swallow than all the “he loved her, she’d have been bored with Edward, etc” comments.
To do that, though, those reviewers would’ve had to admit that they did in fact get turned on by a rape scene. I can see why many readers wouldn’t want to ‘fess up to that. For lots of people, admitting such a thing would be personally horrifying—if I liked reading that, I must be a terrible person!—so trying to explain it away as something other than rape is the only way to defend their love of the book. At least, that’s my theory.
I’ve written one story wherein the heroine has an encounter with the (incubus) hero where it’s very obvious that they’re enacting her fantasy—he’s got her pinned to the wall with superior strength, tears her shirt, etc, but I penned it in her POV and made it very, very clear that she’s totally into it. She even says no, but at the same time, she’s thinking how long she’s waited for a lover who can overpower her and give her this fantasy and she’s very clearly loving it. That kind of forced-sex scenario, I’m perfectly cool with, and IMO it’s one of the hottest sex scenes I’ve written. Others might disagree and say he should’ve stopped because she said no. I understand that I’ve crossed that reader’s personal line.
I wouldn’t call even that scene a rape fantasy, though, because to me, the word “rape” connotates aggression, pain, and a bone-deep violation that isn’t in any way compatible with pleasure. I understand other people don’t see it that way; that’s totally fine and I may be splitting semantical hairs. But when I read about forced seduction, coercive sex, whatever you want to call it, I want to KNOW both parties are consenting before penetration. That’s my line—before his throbbing purple-headed soldier of luuurve charges boldly beyond the hidden gates of her lush velvety grotto of paradise, she’s gotta be totally on-board with the humpage. Even if the word “yes” never crosses her lips, it can be shown with actions and thoughts.
Amelia, it is common knowledge (except, apparently, among 80s romance writers and the readers who love them) that RAPE IS NOT ABOUT SEX; IT’S ABOUT POWER! Most rapes are not committed because a man is overwhelmingly turned on (except perhaps, and I’m speculating here, those committed in the immediate vicinity of adult bookstores and theatres); it’s because he wants to control, hurt, and humiliate a women. Often it has nothing to do with the woman herself; he’s driven by issues from the past and she’s just a target of opportunity.
Something occurs to me: I wonder if call girls who are paid to enact rape fantasies ever get turned on by them, or if they find them about as erotic as cleaning a litterbox?
word78—Don’t you all just wish I could keep my posts that short?
Amelia, it is common knowledge (except, apparently, among 80s romance writers and the readers who love them) that RAPE IS NOT ABOUT SEX; IT’S ABOUT POWER!
Exactly! As a rape victim and victim’s advocate once told me, calling rape “sex” is like beating the shit out of someone with a skillet and calling it “cooking.”
before his throbbing purple-headed soldier of luuurve charges boldly beyond the hidden gates of her lush velvety grotto of paradise, she’s gotta be totally on-board with the humpage.
Amelia, you got a way with words. I’m gonna have to get me some of your books.
For the record, Coulter’s Fire Song was the first romance I ever read (age 15, IIRC), and I remember being pretty turned on by it. I’m gonna have to pick it up again and see if it’s as horrible as I’m beginning to suspect it was. Although, from the discussion here it couldn’t possibly be more creepy than Devil’s Embrace.
Amelia, you still do not hear what I am saying.
What happened to Cassie in this book isn’t a rape fantasy. It’s an actual *rape* complete with physical restraint and all the emotional pain and violation that goes with it.
You are reading that scenario with the unblinkered eyes of conscious reality, perceiving it as factual reportage; a newpaper report rather than a work of fiction. Certainly it is not a ‘rape fantasy’ to you, nor, as it happens, to me. But I feel sure that there are people who could read that kind of repellent scene with the ‘fantasy curtain’ fully interposed between it and their rational perceptions, so to them it could, indeed, be a rape fantasy. there isn’t a specific scene that is ‘a rape fantasy’ and others that are ‘real rape’: the classification depends on the brain of the reader, not the course of events described.
The whole point about fantasies is that they are personal redactions of reality, and that we all have different levels and categories of things that can be turned into fantasy, and those that remain persistently real. If that scene were edited by a reader’s mind to gloss over all the elements that, to us, slap it straight into the category labelled ‘real life’, then it can be, to that reader, an acceptable fantasy. Frankly, it has to have been an acceptable fantasy to the writer: I don’t see how she could have written it, else.
You mention further on in your comment the scene you wrote in which, in 1st-person POV, you made it clear that even though there was no overt consent, the female character was ‘enacting a fantasy’. Don’t you see that the Coulter scenes could be read into by some in the same way, staying on the far side of the threshold that, for us, takes it into the realm of reality? It is conceivable that someone could read your scene, and despite your deliberate indicators of ‘fantasy’, might read it as reality, and reject it.
You mention actual pain and restraint, but you don’t need me to tell you that there are people who, in real life, get off on real pain, real restraint and real humiliation. The psychology of sex is a bottomless morass, not helped by the fact that most of what has been written about it over the centuries is misleading or plain wrong.
But in this instance, all any of us can say is that the scenes described cross OUR personal boundaries of what can be perceived as fantasy, and become uncompromisingly, and horrifyingly, real. The fact that people wrote (and probably still write) such scenes, and that people read them with pleasure, does not necessarily mean that those people are monsters, but only that their fantasy/reality threshold is located in a different place from ours.
One historical reason may be that far less was actually known about rape by your average woman-in-the-street even 50 years ago than we know now. For instance, Tal’s point, which is now generally accepted, that rape is not primarily about sex, but about violent domination, would have baffled most women who were adults in the 1950s.
Understanding more and hearing more about the actual crime, intensified by the fact that the reporting of crime is a great deal more graphic than it was 50 years ago, makes it much harder for most of us to swathe this particular crime in the woolly folds of fantasy. We see it as it is, in real life.
AgTigress, I understand what you’re saying, and I haven’t been disagreeing with you on that. As I said in my post, Coulter’s book crosses my particular comfort line, and I understand it doesn’t for others. Also I mentioned that I might be splitting semantical hairs by refusing to use the word “rape” when describing the scene in my book because rape, as I understand it, is not compatible with pleasure and fantasy. Yes, I know I’m reading through my own perceptions and history—everyone does, and I tried to explain that I know that. My “you bitches have gone too far!” line isn’t in the same place as someone else’s. That’s fine with me. I’m not trying to inflict my tastes on others.
I think my comment about some people not wanting to admit they were turned on by that scene is valid, and it’s not me judging someone. Lots of people don’t want to be seen reading a book with three + naked people on the cover. Others won’t admit to loving twincest stories. Or slash, or m/m, f/f, Snape/Hermione, etc. Or to make s simpler comparison, how many readers do you know who won’t admit to reading romance at all, even though you’ve seen them peeking out from under the bed?
People want others to think of them in a certain way. Publicly admitting, “I lurved that scene, it made me hawt like hoodamn wow!” isn’t going to be compatible with that for some. That’s all I’m saying there.
Yes, I’m reading through my own experiences and viewpoints—no way to get around that. In reading your post and my post, I don’t see how I’m disagreeing with you. While I may personally find Coulter’s book disgusting, I don’t dispute anyone else’s right to like it. I don’t understand it and I don’t share their opinion, but that doesn’t mean I think they’re somehow bad people.
Anyway, sorry if my post offended you. I was just intending to move the conversation along and wasn’t specifically replying to or disagreeing with your post.