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unusualmusic_lj_archiveOh Lord. This one is making me think. A couple of years ago, I stopped reading heterosexual romance novels completely. I'd been reading them since I was 10 or 11, against the rules of my parents. Mommy had 2 huge boxes of them, plus about 20 more on a shelf in the library next to my bedroom. I started with those ones on the shelf, old time Harlequin and Mills and Boon, you know, the ones with 18 or 19 year old fresh, innocent, virgin girls being wooed by 30 something jaded, experienced, men, with a sexay 20 something, sophisticated bitch lurking the background trying to fuck up the pure, true-love relationship. And also that Dutch writer, I can't rememeber her name now, whose protagonists were all plain young nurses who fell in love with aloof 30 something Dutch doctors (somehow they all ended up in Holland within the first couple in pages, which is where all doctor ignores me and is fucking rude, but somehow round the end of the book we find out that he was fighting his feeling for the pure, plain girl and he would neva fall in love with that beautiful bitchy slut that was lurking around in the background.
Then I graduated to the bigger books, Cassie Edwards, Connie Mason, and their ilk. Exotic men galore: sheiks, Indians, Spanish (men from Spain, that is). Also loads of pirates, dukes, kings, warriors, highway men (who usually turned out to be wronged dukes, earls etc., and so did the pirates); and other manly, powerful men. Never any peasants. Always young women, about 18 years old, always "sassy", "feisty", "fiery" who were kidnapped from their homes by these virile men, were raped, humiliated, sometimes spanked, or slapped but somehow in the end, all of this was rationalised by the hero as being done for love of the heroine. In one particularly distingusting case, the heroine was raped until she bled for defying the hero over some stupid thing or other, (I read it about 10 years ago, and have spent a hell of a lot of time trying to block it from my mind since) and right after the bullshit, he hugged her tenderly and said something to the effect that he needed to punish her because she wouldn't listen to him. At that point, I threw down the book in disgust and swore heatedly. There was no way my 12 year old mind as going to accept that raping a women was proof of your love, no way in hell! So I tried the others.
Then I graduated to the bigger books, Cassie Edwards, Connie Mason, and their ilk. Exotic men galore: sheiks, Indians, Spanish (men from Spain, that is). Also loads of pirates, dukes, kings, warriors, highway men (who usually turned out to be wronged dukes, earls etc., and so did the pirates); and other manly, powerful men. Never any peasants. Always young women, about 18 years old, always "sassy", "feisty", "fiery" who were kidnapped from their homes by these virile men, were raped, humiliated, sometimes spanked, or slapped but somehow in the end, all of this was rationalised by the hero as being done for love of the heroine. In one particularly distingusting case, the heroine was raped until she bled for defying the hero over some stupid thing or other, (I read it about 10 years ago, and have spent a hell of a lot of time trying to block it from my mind since) and right after the bullshit, he hugged her tenderly and said something to the effect that he needed to punish her because she wouldn't listen to him. At that point, I threw down the book in disgust and swore heatedly. There was no way my 12 year old mind as going to accept that raping a women was proof of your love, no way in hell! So I tried the others.
At age 13 or so I was reading Silhouettes, and modern Harlequins and such, and these were a bit more varied. Single mother being wooed by cowboys, rich businessmen etc. Women who at age 18 had sex with the guy, got pregnant, kept the baby away from him, he found out at some point, raised hell, used his power to get in her way and have her over a barrel, hostilities somehow turn to mutual sex, by end of book, they get married. Secretaries falling in love with rude, crude bosses. Women whose fathers basically sold them off to the corporate raider types as part of the buyout contract, she does her duty to save her family, and after sex that the husband pressures out of her, ends up falling in love with him. Women who owned their own companies being put in the same position as above. Women being portrayed as sassy feisty, rebellious just for the hell of it, and being treated like precocious children by the indulgent husband, until she did stupid things which hussy had to rescue her from, so she had to tone down the sassiness. One particular book that I liked a whole lot featured a female stock trader who was very good at what she did, and also had a habit of dancing in clubs dressed in sexy clothing. Her (rich) boss found out, blackmailed her and forced her tro act as his mistress and at some point, they fell in love.
Now, I read at least 10 books a week. I'm not kidding. I read, and still do read, a lot. At one point I had joined three libraries: the school library, the library in the town that my high school was located, and the library in the town that was halfway on my way home from school. I didn't just read romance novels, either. I read childrens book and books in the adult section and encyclopedias and any damn thing esle I could get my hands on. And I swapped books with classmates and friends, (practically hounded them in fact to feed my voracious appetite, and happily lent them mine, but they usually lost them.) But, far and away the most popular and available books were romances, and so that was what I read.
By age 18, I estimate that I would have read a couple thousand of the things. And I began to lose interest. Maybe it was because I had the example of parents who were in an egalitarian relationship. But I began to find that my mind recoiled at the threadbare plots and I was sick and tired or being sick and tired of seeing women forced into untenable situations and then resolving the situation by marrying the complet and utter jerks, rapists, overbearing pestilences that had made their live miserable in the first place. And I was sick and tired of the excuse that was offered at the end of the book: "Oh, I made your life a living hell because I was in love with you and wanted your attention." And she forgives him all and they run away. It came to the point that every damn time I picked up a book, my feminist wires were tripped and I ended up getting highly pissed off with the characters, and telling off the author and basically not enjoying the book at all.
Now, I read at least 10 books a week. I'm not kidding. I read, and still do read, a lot. At one point I had joined three libraries: the school library, the library in the town that my high school was located, and the library in the town that was halfway on my way home from school. I didn't just read romance novels, either. I read childrens book and books in the adult section and encyclopedias and any damn thing esle I could get my hands on. And I swapped books with classmates and friends, (practically hounded them in fact to feed my voracious appetite, and happily lent them mine, but they usually lost them.) But, far and away the most popular and available books were romances, and so that was what I read.
By age 18, I estimate that I would have read a couple thousand of the things. And I began to lose interest. Maybe it was because I had the example of parents who were in an egalitarian relationship. But I began to find that my mind recoiled at the threadbare plots and I was sick and tired or being sick and tired of seeing women forced into untenable situations and then resolving the situation by marrying the complet and utter jerks, rapists, overbearing pestilences that had made their live miserable in the first place. And I was sick and tired of the excuse that was offered at the end of the book: "Oh, I made your life a living hell because I was in love with you and wanted your attention." And she forgives him all and they run away. It came to the point that every damn time I picked up a book, my feminist wires were tripped and I ended up getting highly pissed off with the characters, and telling off the author and basically not enjoying the book at all.
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Date: 2008-01-22 06:44 am (UTC)I do find that now, however, romance books tend to portray the female characters as stronger, more in control of themselves, and the men are more "normal".
I happen to read more paranormal romances than anything any more, though. It's fun when the woman is the powerful vampire, and she's pursuing the male. Heh.
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Date: 2008-01-22 04:15 pm (UTC)*Snort* I do believe that that could be fun. But apart from that Hamilton lady and her ridiculous lack of plot series, who else writes those?
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Date: 2008-01-22 04:18 pm (UTC)