I was really struck by the ‘I don’t want politics in my fantasy reading’ sentiments expressed.Stephanie Laurens believes that romance offers a "reaffirmation of how we think our world should be," yet we don't all agree on how "we think our world should be." For the record, on the specific issue of parenthood, Laurens writes that
Because in every romance novel that has a (secret) baby plot in which the formerly-not-at-all-interested-in-becoming-a-mommy heroine suddenly decides that the only possible, the only ‘ethical’ choice is to have that baby is a very loud political statement.
I wonder that people who express their strong aversion to politics in their romance reading aren’t avoiding those books!
The US sales of romance novels directly parallel the US improving birthrate. [...] romance novels [...] respond to women's need to hear the biologically, socially critical lesson that love, marriage and family are worthy and desirable goals. And the US thrives. [...] The conclusion is obvious. It's read romance or perish [...] it will [...] insure that your country continues as a biologically stable nation.So is it really possible to avoid politics in the romance genre?
The illustration came from Wikimedia Commons.
I've never been comfortable with the "personal is political" stance. I mean yes, in a sense, the personal is political because so much of our personal life is affected by political events and realities, but on the other hand, sometimes a baby is just a baby. I think it's entirely possible, and probably common, to be both pro-choice and to understand why a woman who never wanted children, upon finding herself pregnant, might decide to keep the baby.
ReplyDeleteBefore I was a mom, the whole baby-as-plot-device left me cold, and I didn't really like romances in which either hero or heroine had a kid ("She's a mom? and she's having wild nekkid sex? Oh come on!") Now I love romances with cute babies and smart mouthed kids. As the publishers and agents like to tell us, readers respond to characters with whom they can relate.
"sometimes a baby is just a baby. I think it's entirely possible, and probably common, to be both pro-choice and to understand why a woman who never wanted children, upon finding herself pregnant, might decide to keep the baby"
ReplyDeleteYes, sometimes a baby is just a baby, and people can and do change their minds about whether or not they want children, but if there's a sudden, unexplained change of opinion then it can seem as though the heroine's had a personality transplant.
The other thing is that although each book can be taken separately, there's also the cumulative effect that you feel when reading lots and lots of romances one after another, and that's perhaps when you begin to notice trends which may be shaped by marketing/editorial decisions.
One of the trends in the genre, as expressed humorously by the Smart Bitches in their guide to the genre, is that a romance heroine
"shalt have a nurturing streak larger and warmer than the South China Sea. Thy desire for children shall be unquestioned and unperturbed by real-life concerns such as the cost of child rearing, reproductive choice, and child-support payments (in contemporaries), or the dangers of childbearing (in historicals). And shouldst though choose to remain child-free, thou freak of nature, verily thou shouldst display your nurturing streak with animals. Preferably cute, neurotic ones. (36)
----
"Before I was a mom, the whole baby-as-plot-device left me cold [...] Now I love romances with cute babies and smart mouthed kids. As the publishers and agents like to tell us, readers respond to characters with whom they can relate."
I think that perhaps I would have liked storylines with babies more before I became a parent. It's perhaps because I can't relate to the romance version of motherhood that I began to query why novel after novel presents us with babies that sleep through the night, heroines who have minimal morning sickness etc. In response to the post at AAR, I looked up some of the details about post-partum health problems, such as incontinence, postnatal depression, dyspareunia, and it became clear that the reality is rather different from what one reads about in most romances.
I'm sure it could be argued that romance presents a "fantasy," and an "ideal" but in that case one still has to wonder why particular choices are seen as the ideal.
-------
Wendell, Sarah, and Candy Tan. Beyond Heaving Bosoms: The Smart Bitches' Guide to Romance Novels. New York: Fireside, 2009.
I have got to get Heaving Bosoms - I've tried to slow down on book buying because my TBR stack is so horrendous, but I really need to read it. She's right - 90% of romance heroines have some kind of nurturing/caretaker streak - that's why when I run across one who doesn't - who doesn't like babies or puppies or taking care of sick people - I tend to like the books.
ReplyDeleteI do agree about romances not portraying pregnancy or motherhood realistically, but I think there's a limit to how realistic they can be. Romance heroes don't fart in bed or wear blue jean bermuda shorts with work boots.
Just once I'd like to read about a romance heroine who, while pregnant, says "Hell no, I don't feel sexy. Now get off me, I need to go puke."
"I'm sure it could be argued that romance presents a 'fantasy,' and an 'ideal' but in that case one still has to wonder why particular choices are seen as the ideal."
ReplyDeleteThat Laurens quote certainly illustrates the porous boundary between prejudices and ideals:
"the US improving birthrate"
I agree with you that the reader often notices when books present a strong viewpoint on what's right--especially when the message is pervasive in the author's oeuvre, or in much of the genre. That quote presents some of Laurens' political ideals as well as her belief that her ideals belong in romance. That was an inspired find for this discussion.
"That quote presents some of Laurens' political ideals as well as her belief that her ideals belong in romance. That was an inspired find for this discussion."
ReplyDeleteJoseph McAleer's got some interesting details about how the treatment of abortion in Mills & Boon romances was quite definitely shaped by editorial guidelines and, how, on at least one occasion an editor actually wanted to tone down one author's pro-baby stance:
'Everyone would say we're just in it for commerce. Well, to some extent we are, and, why not?' John Boon said. None the less, the firm did, and does, draw a moral line. 'We don't like bad language. We don't like abortion in the books, or brutality, or sadism,' Boon noted. 'But, I think that is a reflection of the morals of the company' (6)
and
In 1972 a Mills & Boon manuscript editor disagreed with Betty Neels over an 'endorsement' of motherhood in Neels's latest novel, Uncertain Summer. In this romance, the hero and heroine plan to marry, and have children, the hero happily announcing he would like a 'large' family of at least four boys and four girls. The Mills & Boon editor altered the reference to four children to two. In doing so, she admitted, 'It is the first tentative attempt I have made to introduce a slightly different editorial line. In this I am backed up by everyone at Mills & Boon except [Alan] Boon, who is still rather nervous about it!' Acknowledging Mills & Boon's 'unique position' as regards reader identification, she added that she was 'one of the growing number of people who are desperately worried about over-population', and was personally convinced that Mills & Boon could do something about it [...]. She added that some readers 'may even feel slightly guilty' if they don't happen to have as many children [...] Neels admitted she deplored birth control when used 'for purely selfish reasons ... I find it just as unforgivable for a couple to decide on a second car instead of a baby ... I also feel that if birth control is pushed too far, the coming generations are going to lose their sense of responsibility and family life, as such, will disappear.'
But the passage, as published, was none the less toned down by Neels. (265-66)
---
McAleer, Joseph. Passion's Fortune: The Story of Mills & Boon. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1999.
I think a lot of women associate pregnancy with good feelings and romantic notions. I do, to some extent. I don't have any trouble believing that an unexpected pregnancy can change a woman's entire outlook. I cried tears of anxiety and dismay when I found out I was pregnant. A few weeks later, when I saw the actual baby on the ultrasound screen, I cried again. These tears were very different, and I can only describe that experience as love at first sight.
ReplyDeleteI don't know what Laurens thinks, and the "improving birthrate" idea sounds pretty weird, but I agree with the above comment that sometimes a baby is just a baby, not a political agenda.
I support a woman's right to choose, and I like romances with or without babies. I don't agree with the notion that an author's inclusion (or not) of a baby in a romance novel is a judgment choice on what is best for ALL women.
"I don't agree with the notion that an author's inclusion (or not) of a baby in a romance novel is a judgment choice on what is best for ALL women."
ReplyDeleteAs I said before, in response to Kinsey, "sometimes a baby is just a baby" but sometimes it's very clearly not, as the quotes from Laurens and Neels make clear. In addition, if one takes the view that
"the romance novel is based on the idea of an innate emotional justice in the universe, that the way the world works is that good people are rewarded and bad people are punished." (Crusie)
then it follows that the romance genre provides examples of
(a) good people and
(b) the kind of rewards those good people receive
So, what kind of people are presented by the genre as being "good" and what kinds of rewards do these "good" people generally receive?
Smart Bitch Candy Tan recently wrote a post which touched on these issues too:
romance novels, more explicitly than many other genres, grapple with gender roles, gender identity and cultural expectations of gender. [...] They’re incredibly heterosexual and heteronormative, and most gender stereotypes are adhered to quite faithfully [...] I notice the gender separations in romance novels along fairly traditional masculine and feminine lines [...] The hero and heroine won’t violate the author’s cultural expectations—and it doesn’t even necessarily matter whether the author subscribes to those expectations herself. [...] If the author’s cultural expectations dictate that women want to be mothers, or that abortion is in no case acceptable, then you’ll have heroines who have babies under the most improbable circumstances, or who think of abortion with disgust, and you’ll see women who do have abortions villainized. (Seriously, it’s even more heinous than having a good manicure and being vain. Women who have abortions in romance novels are Instant Evil, the way homosexuality used to be Instant Evil.) [...]
Romance novels, in my opinion, perform two major functions:
1. They’re about building stability and family—usually a fairly heternomative nuclear family, with the hero and heroine having lots of happy children and sidekicks who get their own books somewhere down the line and repeating this pattern.
I think an HEA is the real reward, and only comes when earned. Good people aren't rewarded just for being good, but for learning an important lesson or overcoming an obstacle.
ReplyDeleteI read some of Candy's post. I know that people do critical analysis of the genre, and they are perfectly welcome to do so. And you're right, Laurens obviously believes that babies should abound in real life and in fiction. But I guess I'm uncomfortable with being lumped in with Laurens, on a polital level, if I write a book with a cute baby or happy pregnancy. And I'm even more uncomfortable with the idea that I've been spoonfed my value system in romance novels, and am regurgitating those values without any meaningful reflection.
(Not that you or anyone else suggested that I, personally, am doing that!)
Anyway, thank you for the response on a interesting topic.
Something bothers me in these two recent discussions...
ReplyDeleteThe assumption seems to be that when authors insert these "political statements" into their fiction, the choices their characters make are the authors' de facto political positions, which in turn seems to translate to comments like "I hate it when authors bring their politics into a book."
Authors, however, are not necessarily writing Mary Sue characters. An anti-gun/anti-war author may still choose to write a gun-toting military hero with strong and pronounced pro-gun views. A pro-choice libertine author may choose to create a heroine with an unwavering stance that sex & babies belong to the marriage-bed. Some authors may even welcome the opportunity to write characters who challenge the author's personal worldview and politics.
Thus, what is mistaken for an author's personal politics may actually be a testimony of the author's skill to create and write believable, rounded, complex characters.
The assumption seems to be that when authors insert these "political statements" into their fiction, the choices their characters make are the authors' de facto political positions.
ReplyDeleteYes, it's important for readers not to make simplistic assumptions about authors on the basis of what we read. From what various romance authors have written, it seems they're subjected to quite a bit of the smirking "I'd love to help you do your research" type comments about the sex scenes, and it could well be equally silly and offensive to make other assumptions about authors on the basis of what their characters do. Authors are not identical to their characters.
That said, nowadays many authors have blogs in which they do reveal quite a lot about their personalities and opinions, so it's not as though readers can't find out about some authors' personal politics.
Some authors may even welcome the opportunity to write characters who challenge the author's personal worldview and politics.
Yes, but
(a) does the author consistently write characters with the same views that he/she finds unpleasant. If, for example, an author only wrote about heroes and heroines who were racist, one would perhaps begin to think that at very least the author had an interest in the subject of racism (which is very, very different from making an assumption that the author herself/himself is racist). I think it would at least be possible to draw some conclusions about the author's interests, even if not about the author's beliefs about the issues tackled in the novels.
(b) there's the question of what happens to these characters. Jill wrote that in romance "Good people aren't rewarded just for being good, but for learning an important lesson or overcoming an obstacle." So readers might make assumptions about what's presented as "an obstacle" to be overcome, or what "lesson" is learned by such characters in order for them to get their HEA.
The situation would be different if one were assessing novels with a cynical or nihilistic world-view, in which good people die/suffer and bad people win, but romance is a genre in which the endings are seen as rewards for the characters. Given that this is the case, I suspect that most romance authors with strong political views would be unlikely to write a book which seemed to reward a characters who'd acted in ways which the author found entirely abhorrent, at least, not without making the character repent or learn from the experience first.
Now it's logically possible, of course, that an anti-abortion romance author could consistently write books in which all the heroines have had abortions and live happily ever after, without having to learn that their abortions were "wrong" but I'm not sure how likely that would be.
Anyway, even if readers weren't justified in drawing conclusions about the author's beliefs, they would be justified in saying that such a book seemed to endorse particular views. Because of the way that the HEA is seen as a reward, the genre can be read as presenting certain behaviours and characters as worthy of being rewarded. It also implies that certain things are a reward (e.g. life-long love) and that other things would not be much of a reward (e.g. being in a marriage without love).
I guess I'm uncomfortable with being lumped in with Laurens, on a polital level, if I write a book with a cute baby or happy pregnancy. And I'm even more uncomfortable with the idea that I've been spoonfed my value system in romance novels, and am regurgitating those values without any meaningful reflection.
ReplyDeleteI hope I didn't come across as saying that I assumed all romance authors believe the same things that Stephanie Laurens and Betty Neels do. What I am saying is that
(a) some authors clearly do have political views which are reflected in their novels,
(b) there are marketing pressures which may encourage certain themes/storylines/types of protagonists in the genre, and
(c) regardless of why any individual author puts babies into her/his books, a reader who's seeing babies on lots of covers, and reading about lots of secret babies, and babies in epilogues, is going to get the impression that the genre, taken as a whole, presents babies as part of the expected HEA.
To make a couple of comparisons, most romances end with the couple engaged or married. It used to be that all/almost all romances would have ended that way. Would a reader have been justified in thinking that the genre, taken as a whole, did not endorse people "living in sin" without the benefit of marriage? I think they would, even if some authors omitted to show an engagement or marriage, and even if a few authors showed their couples living together without getting married, and even if some authors thought it would be OK for people not to get married but it happened to be the right choice for their characters.
Similarly, when all romances were about heterosexual couples, and gay characters mostly appeared as villainous or tragic characters, the overall impression that a reader would have taken away from reading the genre would have been that gay and lesbian characters don't get happy endings. That's changing now, and one does see more romances with gay and lesbian primary and secondary characters who get their own HEAs, and I think it does change how readers will assess the genre as a whole. It's not so much that every romance between heterosexual couples was deliberately written in order to exclude gay and lesbian characters or to send a message that gay and lesbian people shouldn't marry. It's just that if, in the genre as a whole, certain categories of people are never (or very, very rarely) shown as ones which are deserving of HEAs, then the genre as a whole can be read as having, and reinforcing, particular norms.
Authors are not identical to their characters.
ReplyDeleteEspecially true with horror, thrillers, romantic suspense and authors who write these truly gut-turning serial killer-rapist-torturer-and-kick-puppies-too characters... ;D
That said, nowadays many authors have blogs in which they do reveal quite a lot about their personalities and opinions, so it's not as though readers can't find out about some authors' personal politics.
From time to time, however, we are being reminded by the publishing side that not all readers participate in the blogosphere romance community.
(a) does the author consistently write characters with the same views that he/she finds unpleasant.
I agree with the fundamentals there, of course. Just arguing for argument's sake. :)
So, would a reader picking up a new author and finding the author's "politics" objectionable keep reading that author to establish those recurring attitudes? How many readers give a new author more than one chance?
On the other hand, readers who find nothing fundamentally objectionable in an author's work may not be actively aware of the author's politics when those politics appear to agree with the reader's own "default" positions.
(b) So readers might make assumptions about what's presented as "an obstacle" to be overcome, or what "lesson" is learned by such characters in order for them to get their HEA.
Except, for instance, in my examples -- pro/anti-gun and sex/no sex before marriage -- there is really no lessons to learn or groveling to do in order to somehow redeem the character, is there? Because there is no right or wrong position. A gun-toting hero (or libertine heroine or no-sex-before-marriage heroine) does not need to repent and renounce his guns (sex/celibacy) any more than the anti-war hero needs to repent and resort to the guns for their HEA, regardless which position the author personally endorses.
Re: Laurens and romance novels "reaffirming of how we think our world should be" as well as your comments above, I subscribe to the school that maintains that mirror-like, popular fiction, movies etc. not only reflect the society and its attitudes but also on their part enforce and even instill those attitudes.
The majority of the romance novels published any given month, besides the obvious one man-one woman committed relationship HEA, depict pre/extra-marital sexual experimentation as acceptable (that is, as long as s/he is the One and Love will follow). Which would seem to suggest that romance novels are not exclusively "conservative". Today's romances celebrate sex and it's rarely the marriage-bed sex variety.
As to the lacking (mentions of) contraception, in this respect romance novels seem to imitate real life, and not in a good way. A 2002 US study found that 46% of the US women seeking abortion had not used a contraceptive method in the month they conceived, mainly because of perceived low risk of pregnancy and concerns about contraception. Inconsistent method use was the main cause of pregnancy for 49% of condom users and 76% of pill users.
To me, this reads almost like: relied on good luck alone and did not bother with contraception because did not think that one time of quickie sex in the heat of the moment could cause pregnancy and color me surprised.
Not entirely unheard of in the Romanceland, is it? ;)
As to the question that to what extent romance novels on their part do enforce acceptable attitudes, me thinks this might give a serious pause to authors who choose not to bring up the condom/pill question because mentioning contraception would somehow be a distraction and a mood-killer -- not unlike in real life.
Edited to add to my last comment in the post above:
ReplyDeleteEspecially if the author depicts the no-condom moment as a moment of such hightened passion and romance that the couple is supposedly too deep in it to slow down for that C-discussion.
From time to time, however, we are being reminded by the publishing side that not all readers participate in the blogosphere romance community.
ReplyDeleteThat's true, and I'm also sure I've read some comments at online romance review sites or blogs from readers who say they avoid reading authors' blogs because they don't want to know too much information about authors and their views, lest it make them not want to read the books.
How many readers give a new author more than one chance?
I don't know, but it's a good point, because it may be one factor which discourages authors from taking risks or may discourage editors from buying books which they perceive as risky.
readers who find nothing fundamentally objectionable in an author's work may not be actively aware of the author's politics when those politics appear to agree with the reader's own "default" positions.
Something like this came up in the Dear Author discussion. The counterargument to statements such as "I don't want politics in my escapist reading" is "But you already have politics in your escapist reading, you just don't notice it's there when it's got the slant you prefer."
Except, for instance, in my examples -- pro/anti-gun and sex/no sex before marriage -- there is really no lessons to learn or groveling to do in order to somehow redeem the character, is there?
There can be. Admittedly this is a rather old example, but as I mentioned here, in Augusta Jane Evans's St. Elmo (1866) the hero has to repent of his gun-use and come round to the heroine's point of view that duels are not a correct way for gentlemen to settle their differences.
The way that some romance heroes, on learning of the heroine's virginity, insist on marriage, suggests that they (as characters) believe that there's something special about virginity, so one gets the impression that the heroes themselves are hardly endorsing extra-marital sex, at least not for "good" women.
Especially if the author depicts the no-condom moment as a moment of such hightened passion and romance that the couple is supposedly too deep in it to slow down for that C-discussion.
ReplyDeleteThere's an interesting thesis on condom use which, among lots of other things, points out that there are two different "narratives" which can affect how condom use is perceived in real life:
"Young heterosexual men's use of condoms is constrained by their understandings of heterosexual sexual encounters per se. The men in my study emphasise that condoms "kill the moment" and interrupt the "heat of the moment", offering a vision of sexual episodes as spontaneous, irresistible and free of reflexive consideration. The "heat of the moment" is a powerful aspect of constructions of heterosexual eroticism, and an important inclusion in an explanation of heterosexual men's unsafe sex." (112)
However, Flood also says that
"Men in my study stress a powerful narrative of male sexual skill or the "good lover", focused on technical sexual skills which are applicable to the bodies of all women and oriented towards the production of female sexual pleasure. This narrative, as well as the men's norm of consent and "respect" for women's wishes in sexual relations, again are contrary to the claim that an assumption of uncontrollable male sexual desire is characteristic of heterosexual men. The image of the "good lover" is a potential resource for safe sex practice." (112)
I haven't studied this in any detail at all, and I haven't read a lot of the old "bodice rippers", but I wonder if perhaps there was a correlation in them between the fact that heroes often didn't behave as though "no" meant "no," and a lack of interest in depicting contraception. It's a bit difficult to tell, because they were often historicals, and that would affect the range of contraceptives available. But it does seem to mirror what Flood says about the first narrative.
In lots of more recent novels, including historicals, one can find heroes who can stop part-way through a sexual encounter if the heroine demands it, who are presented as skilled lovers and who may also use contraceptives. Does this suggest that Flood's second "narrative" has become more popular in the genre, relative to the first narrative?
----
Flood, Michael. Lust, Trust and Latex: Why young heterosexual men don't use condoms. Australian National University, 2000.
...because it may be one factor which discourages authors from taking risks or may discourage editors from buying books which they perceive as risky.
ReplyDeletePublishers are gatekeepers. However, attempts for a (romance) author to try to predict what sort of a romance reader -- backward leaning, forward leaning, left or right leaning in terms of those US "risky" hot potato political issues -- will pick up the book and then try to gear the story to please *that* reader segment would seem doomed from the start, CBA market aside.
The counterargument to statements such as "I don't want politics in my escapist reading" is "But you already have politics in your escapist reading, you just don't notice it's there when it's got the slant you prefer."
Exactly. To be fair, though, academics are trained to be aware of their biases. No such requirement for a casual reader. :)
There can be.
I read historicals seldom and selectively (and old "bodice rippers" never). Looking back at my comments, I can see that I had contemporary romances in mind. In contemps, sex, lust seem to be casual and often happens at the first possible opportunity with no marriage or promise of marriage in sight, hence my term pre/extra-marital sex, which seems to be perfectly acceptable in most contemporary romances. Outside the over-the-top Harlequin Presents world, I can't remember reading a single contemp romance hero who would have a) thought the heroine to be a "bad" girl for sleeping with him so casually b) brought up marriage after finding out about the heroine's virginity. Hence my impression that sex and lust in contemp romances are treated as casually as say, wine; neither the heros nor the heroines blink twice to have a glass of wine and sex after way before they are married or even engaged.
So I can't help wondering what are the politics at play there?
As to the historicals, how much of that "virginity-marriage-good woman" attitude can be put down to the "story world", authors' attempts to portray period attitudes authentically as opposed to wallpaper historicals?
The contemporary romances would certainly seem more straightforward in answering the question what do the characters' choices tell us about our society's values. Historicals seem trickier in that respect.
There's an interesting thesis on condom use which, among lots of other things, points out that there are two different "narratives" which can affect how condom use is perceived in real life:
Intersting link and sneak peek to the Australian male POV. Thank you. :)
The image of the "good lover" is a potential resource for safe sex practice."
"No condom, no sex" is certainly a powerful incentive.
Does this suggest that Flood's second "narrative" has become more popular in the genre, relative to the first narrative?
It has been argued that there was a shift/break in masculinity (or "musculinity") from the Cold War/Reagan-era lone "Rambo" heroes to the more sensitive "Clinton-era" "family man" heroes such as John McClaine in Die Hard films.
I can't help thinking that this "good/skilled lover" concept, although ostensibly sensitive to the female needs and allowing the heroine some of the hero's "original" bodice-ripper power over the heroine, is just another gimmick for the hero to retain that ultimate control the heroine's sexual pleasure.
"I think it's entirely possible, and probably common, to be both pro-choice and to understand why a woman who never wanted children, upon finding herself pregnant, might decide to keep the baby."
ReplyDeletePossible, yes, common, I doubt it. But possible in every book in every circumstance, even when the circumstance is such that it's not in either the woman's or the kid's best interest? I doubt that seriously.
There's definitely brain-washing going on right now, especially in Harlequin/Silhouette contemps. Brainwashing about how wonderful it is to procreate and that women's lives lack purpose if they do not wish to participate in said procreation. Quite honestly, I think it's a harmful message, because there are way too many people making babies that have no business being parents and we see the effects of those decisions daily in the news when we read about abused or murdered children or children who are so whacked in the head they go out and torture and kill others.
Every story is situated in its culture and its interpretation reflects both the author's and the reader's life experiences and biases, but it's easy to see trends, if you read enough of the books in question and I have, even though babies aren't something I'm very keen on. Last year I read upwards of 100 Harl Super Romances and there isn't a one where the baby isn't the central focus of the story, often to the detriment of me being able to believe that the couple will stay together for more than a couple of years. Relationships are hard work. Throw in a baby right away and your chances of making it work are slim to none.
The Laurens' comments are incredibly annoying because I sure as hell do not need nor want to hear that 'critical lesson' she expounds on. I'm childless by choice, because I believe some people are meant to be parents and others are definitely not. I feel excluded by Laurens' world view and consider her politics in this incompatible with somebody I would wish to give any money to. Good thing I think her writing sucks.
What struck me with the many pro-life comments on the DA thread was the incredible hypocrisy of the posters, albeit seemingly unconscious hypocrisy.
Hmmm.... Very interesting discussion in many aspects. Just to focus on the abortion one, there's clearly a publishing pressure here. The numbers vary depending on locale and question, but U.S. polling roughly has 60% of women being pro-choice and 40% pro-life (feel free to flip the numbers if you have better data, I think my point will stick). So some 40% of the customer base really does think that a woman who has an abortion has done something very wrong and will not be interested in the character if she does this.
ReplyDeleteIf there's going to be a pregnancy at all, the other main alternative (ignoring miscarriage) is of course carrying to term. Since pro-choice women love babies just as much as pro-life women, by having a baby you can reach almost all of your potential market. Sure, publishers will find many good works in which a person has an abortion and will publish a few, but why would a publisher wish to alienate 40% of their market?
Next, abortion is never romantic, appealing, desirable, etc., no matter how pro-choice you are. Even if one considers it as simply a medical procedure like an appendectomy with no moral overtones at all, who's going to celebrate an appendectomy? It will always be portrayed as something one goes through for future good. Children on the other hand are an end in themselves, not a means to a better future life.
Previous commenters have made the point that having children isn't always rosy and can bring on all sorts of troubles and maybe hurt the romantic relationship. But if we assume the HEA ending of romances as a genre, then that is by definition all ignored. For it to come into play, you would need to have a novel with romantic elements, not a romance, that deals with the struggles of life and allows them to continue even after the book ends. In such a world, the troubles of parenthood and the troubles of having an abortion are on a more level playing field. But is that a Romance by the current definition?
Babies would also seem to be "selected for" because of the sort of relationships that are intended to be portrayed here. These aren't just a great pair, people enjoying their time together, not even a couple who will struggle to make it work. This is IT. the One. The final HEA of all HEAs where the couple are settling down with one another into the relationship that will define their life. This sense of finding one's place and home in the world (in a relationship) is strongly associated with physical versions of settling -- a home, land perhaps, and family. This doesn't mean that people who rent and choose not to have children do not also settle down. Of course, they do. But these concepts are all very tied together in our brains and aren't broken apart easily.
Btw, does anyone know the actual politics of publishers? As a whole, I'd be really surprised if the publishing industry doesn't register as basically liberal by American definitions. Publishing is based in areas dominated by liberalism, such as NY or Cali. It's populated by liberal arts majors and such. Everything screams Democrat. (This is not to disparage them; I just described myself.) So, if romance publishing is similar to publishing in general, these views keeping abortion out of novels are being propagated by the same people who vote pro-choice on election time. Anyone know? Perhaps romance publishers are anomalous?
Last year I read upwards of 100 Harl Super Romances and there isn't a one where the baby isn't the central focus of the story, often to the detriment of me being able to believe that the couple will stay together for more than a couple of years.
ReplyDeleteHarlequin Superromances are marketed under the banner of "Home & Family", so reader beware: there be babies, cute pets and annoying aunts. :D
"The contemporary romances would certainly seem more straightforward in answering the question what do the characters' choices tell us about our society's values. Historicals seem trickier in that respect."
ReplyDeleteOne still has to be careful with contemporaries, because as has been pointed out on this and other threads, authors may not share the attitudes of their characters, and there are also genre conventions and plot demands which may make certain scenarios more common in fiction than in real life. It could also be argued that some romances reflect fantasies (sexual fantasies, romantic fantasies, financial fantasies, etc.) rather than what is common practice in contemporary society.
But yes, in historicals there's an additional layer on top of all those caveats, because the choices characters make may well be shaped by what the author perceives to be historically accurate in that time-period. As you say, if an author didn't give the impression of having made a serious attempt to portray the attitudes of the period in question, she'd soon be tagged as writing "wallpaper" historicals.
"Brainwashing about how wonderful it is to procreate and that women's lives lack purpose if they do not wish to participate in said procreation [...] it's easy to see trends, if you read enough of the books in question and I have"
ReplyDeleteI wonder if perhaps, as someone who has chosen not to have children, this is something you're particularly likely to notice (because as with the comments about "politics" in romance, we're probably all more likely to notice things that upset or irritate us than things we feel are right and/or normal), but I agree with you that it can feel very much as though babies are being presented as a must-have element of a HEA. Which brings me to Pacatrue's comment that
"people who [...] choose not to have children do [...] also settle down. Of course, they do. But these concepts are all very tied together in our brains and aren't broken apart easily."
That, I think, is precisely the point that Growly's making, in a sense. Children seem to be presented in these novels, as an important part of a stable, long-term romantic relationship. Obviously there are historical and biological reasons for this: "the procreation of children" has often been defined as the primary purpose of marriage, and if people don't have genetic offspring, they won't be passing on their DNA. However, culture changes, the way people think about marriage and its purposes has changed over time, and non-procreative relationships e.g. between people who are infertile, beyond-child-bearing-age, or in a same-sex relationship as well as between people who deliberately remain childless are becoming much more acceptable.
If procreation and happiness are "tied together in our brains" that's at least partly to do with our culture, and romances may both reflect and reinforce that.
I read an article by Polly Vernon in the Guardian in which she pointed out that
The birth rate in Europe is in steep decline. We know this. We know that, currently, 40% of UK university graduates aged 35 are childless and that at least 30% will stay that way permanently. We know that much of this childlessness is involuntary or, at least, unconsidered, the consequence of infertility, a lack of opportunity or leaving it too late.
But some of it will be like mine - cherished, rigorously maintained, valued. For everyone's sake, it's good to have that sort of a blueprint on a life without children. Childlessness is going to be a feature in many of our lives; we need to start seeing it as a choice, a valid option, rather than a failing. We certainly need it not to be taboo.
Stephanie Laurens would probably argue that it's a good thing that romance doesn't tend to portray it as a valid option, but romance is a genre which thrives because it's seen as happy, comforting, uplifting etc and if someone is child-free by choice, or if they're coming to terms with their infertility, romances filled with hyper-fertile characters may not be particularly comforting or uplifting. Perhaps in order to remain uplifting to increasing numbers of child-free readers, the genre will have to include more stories which offer "a blueprint on a life without children" which presents that life as a happy, love-filled option?
Another thought I've had is that while I suspect that in all periods in which the genre was being written there have been some authors who liked including offspring, and others who didn't, I wonder if there have also been trends in how strongly children were portrayed as a necessary part of the HEA.
ReplyDeleteI may be wrong, because despite trying to seek them out to try to get a better overview of the genre I haven't read nearly as many pre-1990 romances as I have post-1990 romances, but I have the impression that we may have been going through a particularly pro-baby period in recent decades. Certainly Georgette Heyer's romances mostly end without the characters having even discussed children, never mind having produced any. I don't recall many of Mary Stewart's heroines being portrayed as mothers, either.
This is a very important post, Laura. I'm very grateful for it, and I hope to keep thinking about it.
ReplyDeleteI do think that "popular" fiction (to aim at the very broad side of a very large barn) tends to be more predictably "about" moral issues than "literary fiction," in ways that are writ so large that they might sometimes be writ in invisible ink.
BUT...
...since "popular" and "literary" fiction do have increasingly important meeting points -- even in romance (think of the brilliant Sarah Waters and others I'm sure who will follow), I think the range of possibilities for moral/political contention in genre will continue to grow broader and livelier.
In my own books I've approached the babies and pregnancy question from several angles and with different degrees of success -- trying to square the genre's prejudice not so much for babies, I think, as with an unquestioned view that a certain kind of "innocence" must always be protected. And to indulge my own emphatically pro-choice politics as well as my everyday practice as a lefty intellectual, prototypical Jewish mother, and sucker for families and babies.
Since I write romance I try to give my heroines "everything" in the end, but also to ask (at least in the margins) what "everything" might be in different situations. And also to wonder whether "innocence" is always as purely opposite of "experience" as the genre seems to think. Which is why William Blake made an offstage appearance in my first published romance, Almost a Gentleman.
My conviction is that popular fiction never escapes its political assumptions. But my hope (and part of my project) is that romance will continue expanding and exploring its range of political possibility.
"This is a very important post, Laura. I'm very grateful for it, and I hope to keep thinking about it."
ReplyDeleteI'm thrilled it's been so thought-provoking. Growly Cub's original comment got me thinking, too, so I'm glad it was helpful that I shared it with a wider audience.
trying to square the genre's prejudice not so much for babies, I think, as with an unquestioned view that a certain kind of "innocence" must always be protected
Could you expand on that? I've just finished reading an older category romance in which the heroine is constantly requiring the protection of the hero as she stumbles (sometimes literally) from one problem to the next. Is that the kind of "innocence" you're thinking of, or did you mean something else?