Paranormal romances often feature heroes who are bigger and more dangerous than mere mortals. The lovers can literally be soul-mates, and if they are (or become) immortal, their happy-ever-after may be precisely that. Jane has observed that "The paranormal allows for an amplification of loss and sorrow which makes the emotional conflict more compelling." Paranormals, by their very nature, seem to intensify or magnify many of the characteristic elements of the genre and Michele Hauf's The Highwayman contains many examples of this process.An excerpt of the novel is available here and here and there are reviews here, here, and here (some of them contain spoilers). Carolyn Crane has made some observations about the way Hauf depicts the catlike aspects of the heroine's nature. There will be spoilers in what follows.
The heroine, Aby, is a "familiar." When "sexually sated" (22) familiars can "bridge a demon" (22) into the world in which the romance is set. For Aby,"Summoning demons was her job. Sex was a job" (23) and "her profession involved having sex - a lot of sex" (109). However, because sex is her job, "Aby wasn't sure what real sex was" (91) and it is Max, the demon-killing hero, who gives her her "first kiss" (96). This makes him feel "as if he'd done something wrong, like steal a neighbor's mail, or a woman's virginity?" (98). Nor has she ever had a "sexual daydream about a man" (117) or "had opportunity to really look at a man before" (218). As he realises, this heroine with the "wicked innocent sensuality" (219) who "come[s] off as very [...] Sensual and attractive and confident about yourself and your body" (108) but who is also so full of "bright-eyed innocence" (97), "so innocent" (110), is the incarnation of both sides of the "Madonna and the whore" (174) dichotomy.
She thus presents a solution to the problem of how to resolve the two directions in which the romance genre is tugged on the question of female sexuality. Candy Tan described them thus:
while I think romance novels are subversive and reinforce the whole notion that women CAN have premarital sex and NOT die horribly by the end of the book, in a lot of ways, the message isn’t subversive at all. In fact, the message is oftentimes quite distressingly sexist.Thanks to the possibilities opened up by the opportunity to construct a paranormal world, Hauf's heroine can have have her sexual cake of innocence, but also have already eaten it very pleasurably.
Look at the obsession with virgins, for example. In no other genre are there so many women over the age of 20 and widows running around with their hymens firmly intact. [...] The heroines who aren’t virgins generally aren’t allowed to have orgasms or fulfilling sex lives before the hero comes along [...] Women are also rarely allowed to be promiscuous the way men are in romance. [...] Erotica and erotic romance have done a better job of blasting through a lot of these walls, in my opinion, and portraying more sexually empowered women.
Hauf also provides the reader with a very clear example of a Glittery HooHa (GHH). This special organ enables a heroine to "snare him [the hero] forever, for yea, no matter how many HooHas he might see, never will there be one as Glittery as hers…" (Lani Diane Rich qtd. by Jennifer Crusie). All romance heroines have a GHH, but the fact is made more explicit in some romances than others.
Max, as he explains, literally gets "distracted by sparkly things like a damned magpie. I think it's part of the demon curse" (164) but his supernatural attraction to sparkly, glittery objects, which he is compelled to steal and make his own, parallels his attraction to Aby and her extremely glittery HH: "she looked better than any sparkly gemstone Max had ever tucked into his pocket" (81). He wants "to possess her. To steal her. To tuck her away like those jewels you take" (113) and just before they have penetrative sex for the first time he imagines how she must look in the shower, "All those water droplets glistening on her skin like liquid diamonds. An easy nab for a thief who couldn't stop himself from stealing" (217). Inevitably, close contact with the heroine and her GHH starts "changing him. Making him tolerant. [...] Max was happy to please his sparkly thing" (200).
The specialness of the sexual relationship between heroes and heroines in romances is not only emphasised by the fact that it is often the heroine's very first sexual relationship. In some ways it is usually suggested that it is a "first" for the hero too. With a hero who has been very promiscuous there is often a moment when he learns sex with the heroine is special. In The Highwayman it is Aby who learns this lesson:
Max put his cheek to her belly and hugged her. "Is it good for you? I mean, better than ..."The paranormal element of the romance presents Hauf with the ability to create an ingenious method whereby sex with Aby is made extra-special for Max, who already believes that "Love is better than sex" (236). When he became immortal, around 250 years ago, "the third blow he'd been served by the demon shadow" was "inability to climax [...] Over the centuries he'd tried to climax with many women. If there was a trick to setting him off, he'd yet to find it" (101). In his shadow form "he could watch lovers and feel the moment of pleasure in the dream. But he could never recall that pleasure or retain the feeling after dropping the shadow [...] he couldn't climax. Hadn't since 1758" (144). However when he enters Aby's dream about the two of them having sex, it results in "a sticky wetness" (144) in his jeans. Clearly Aby's GHH works in the dream world, and there's a long-anticipated waking repetition of it towards the end of the novel, "And with his surrender, came salvation. He came hard" (272).
He was wondering about Jeremy. But that had been business sex. Unfeeling, unemotional. "Twenty times better, Max. I love you." (240)
Interestingly, Aby's ability to make Max "surrender" and acknowledge her specialness with his "wetness" is paralleled by her ability to make him cry:
He'd watched Aby come close to being hurt today. [...] He turned his face and sniffed back the tears. [...] He hadn't cried after Rebecca's death. He hadn't cried after Emiline's death. He never shed a tear for any who had fallen at his whip. (234)Aby recognises the significance of the moment: Max has "opened up to her" (234) and just as it is with Aby that he ends two and a half centuries of sexual frustration, it is with Aby that he is able "to trust and release" (235) all the "pain inside" (235) him.
Another instance of the paranormal setting allowing for the intensification of themes or elements present in other romances can be found in the heroine's response to the hero's body odor. As Jessica has noted,
Apparently, every lover has a bouquet, and our h/hs are always — always – connoisseurs. Like a Master of Wine, they can pick out different aromas and notes, hints of this or that. Over time, I have come to bracket my disbelief, understanding the important role of a unique set of smells to the development of the sexual relationship, and indeed to the full sensory experience romance novels provide.Aby is a familiar, which means that she shapeshifts into cat form from time to time, and even when she looks human, she retains her catlike sense of smell:
Her world was navigated by scent. She never made a move without first assessing the atmosphere. It usually took her but moments to acclimate to new smells, else she'd be dizzy from the melee of odors.Another example of the kind of intensification which can occur in a paranormal romance is provided by the heroine's need for protection. According to the statements collected at Bookbug on the Web, various authors, when asked "what qualities should a hero always have" mentioned protectiveness:
A new smell, beyond the alcohol-laced colognes and grooming products and cigarette smoke, tickled her nose. [...] Running her tongue along her lower lip, she took in the tall man who also scanned the room. [...] He smelled different. But what about him was unique?
Drawing a soft breath through her nose, Aby discerned the faint masculine odor wafting from his direction. That was it. One simple scent. He was clean. No tobacco, alcohol or chemicals that tainted every living being in the world. Not a definitive food odor that usually lingered even on the most fastidious. (16-17)
Lori Foster: [...] They have to be protective toward all things smaller or weaker than themselves.In paranormal romances, as in historicals, there's often a lot of opportunity for a hero to be protective. Even if Hauf's characters weren't under frequent attack from demons, Aby's very nature requires that she be protected:
Barbara Dawson Smith: A romance hero [...] is willing to take risks to protect his property, his loved ones, and his beliefs
Linda Cajio: [...] protective
Geralyn Dawson: [...] protective
Leigh Greenwood: The most essential quality? I can't decide between "the ability to protect his wife and all that belongs to him" or "a willingness to risk all to protect his wife and all that belongs to him." Maybe this is a particularly male point of view; women may think some quality of sensitivity or understanding are most important. I agree that they're essential in a hero, but without the ability to protect, he won't get a chance to use the rest. That's a role men have had for a long time and I guess it's still necessary. I should add that I'm thinking about historical heroes. When you get into contemporary situations, then understanding and sensitivity would have to take first place.
"[...] I have this great dream of being independent, but I'm fooling myself. Familiars do best when they have someone close to protect and care for them. I'm not like those wild cats that roam the plains. I've been domesticated."Finally, there's a dream-state paranormal version of forced seduction/rape. Rather than being an intensification like the previous two examples, it's more of a paranormal variation on a theme. Max enters Aby's dream without her consent and discovers that she's dreaming about having sex with him. Max isn't exactly himself at the time, because he is in the control of his demon shadow and
That realization, always at the back of her mind, now blossomed, and she couldn't deny it. She'd never be truly independent, able to survive without the help of others. Could she accept it?
"Aby, I love you. And if you want it, I will protect and care for you."
She did want his protection. (237-38)
The pull to shadow always manifested as a dark desire he would not resist [...] he hovered in solid form at the end of Aby's bed. Adorned in darkness and raiments of night, the shadow devoured the peaceful quiet. [...]Once within Aby's sexual dream, "He, the shadow as human shape, entered the dreamer, hilting himself inside her" (142). When she wakes up, Aby knows she has had a dream, but doesn't realise the full extent of Max's participation in it. He delays telling her the truth because he "thought you'd feel ... violated" (196). Max thus recognises that the event was a kind of rape/forced seduction, but the paranormal circumstances in which it took place exonerate him and render it far from traumatising for the heroine. All that is left of the forced seduction/romance rape scenario is a mildly illicit frisson.
Before it lay a sleeping being. It did not discern age or sex. The energy was strong. So strong, it drew the shadow forward." (141)
- Hauf, Michele. The Highwayman. New York: Silhouette, 2009.
Kresley Cole has a lots of similar elements: lots of her heroes can't come except with their fated mate and she also walks the innocent/experienced tightrope by having experienced valkyries who've chosen not to have sex for a millenium or so. So yes, the paranormal genre is great for letting you have your cake and eating it too.
ReplyDeleteInterestingly her valkyries don't eat or (I think) menstruate either.
Probably don't have unslightly body hair .... all in all very sanitised.
A very thought provoking post. Thanks. ;o)
ReplyDeleteJ. Kathleen Cheney
"Probably don't have unslightly body hair .... all in all very sanitised."
ReplyDeleteI get the impression that vampires are like that too, but then they're often contrasted with were-creatures, who do have many of the animalistic features which the non-smelly, non-hairy, possibly non-living paranormal creatures don't have.
Kathleen, I'm intrigued. What kind of thoughts did the post provoke?
My impression is that with genres such as paranormal romance, but also (and perhaps to a greater degree) speculative fiction, there's a lot of opportunity for the author to create her/his own world. Linnea Sinclair's said that
The problem with writing in our current time period (give or take a dozen years) is that we’re so used to our “world” we forget the elements that build it.
I don't think it's necessarily the case that authors of contemporaries (or historicals) "forget the elements that build" the world in which they're setting their stories, but there are definitely more constraints placed on the world-building because of the demands of accuracy. If an author's making up a whole world, she/he has to make it internally consistent, but otherwise can make lots of things different from current reality.
Sometimes, as in Hauf's novel, those differences can mostly be used to intensify elements that exist in contemporary and historical romances. That's an entirely valid choice, and I can see why it would be appealing to so many authors and readers.
In paranormal romance there seems to be a freedom to enjoy some things which might be considered "politically incorrect" in the real world, and so are relatively toned down in most contemporaries/historicals. The dream-rape/forced seduction's a case in point. You don't find very many rapes or even forced seductions in other parts of the genre any more, but there's perhaps more leeway in paranormal romance because it's so clearly "not real." Or to give another example, behaviour that might seem creepy and stalkerish in a real man is seen (at least by some readers) as romantic and protective when a sparkly vampire is involved. Or werewolves and other were-creatures "may not be in a human form for sex, which can really push boundaries," as Hauf has observed.
So in that sense the paranormal allows readers and authors to explore desires/scenarios which are forbidden or less tolerated in the real world.
Writing a paranormal opens up other possibilities too, and I'm sure some authors of paranormal romance enjoy the opportunity to make things very different from the real world, so that the novel involves a thought experiment via the creation of a society (or group of societies) with very different moral codes/political ideologies/social norms from our own.
I'm left with one burning question: "Why is this book called 'The Highwayman?" From what you describe I cannot see any explanation for the title.
ReplyDeleteAs a non-reader of paranormal romance, I admit to a decided bafflement of this interest in having your cake and eating it, too, with regard to sexual intercourse/purity. I never figured out the whore/madonna problem, or rephrased, why women writers feed that stereotype imposed by men on womanhood in their writing geared to fulfilling female fantasy.
I find it outright insulting and I really wish they'd stop going there.
Feels wishy=washy to me
"I'm left with one burning question: "Why is this book called 'The Highwayman?" From what you describe I cannot see any explanation for the title."
ReplyDeleteIn her letter to the reader Hauf writes that
One of the sexiest images to me is the lone highwayman waiting alongside the road for an oncoming carriage, anticipating the riches he can steal with a flash of a pistol or a seductive smile. But he's selfless, robbing from the rich and giving to those in need, getting by on only what he needs to survive. My hero is all that"
In a flashback to "Paris - 1758" Max describes himself and his partner in crime as "The most successful highwaymen in all of France" (31) and there's a description of how they held up and robbed a coach carrying "five heavy, metal coffers of gold and silver coin destined for Versailles" (30).
In the present, however, Max doesn't work as a highwayman any more. It seems to be more of a nickname now, though he does still steal things sometimes and give them to charity. Mostly he drives around in a "black '68 Shelby Mustang" (10) and kills demons with a specially adapted whip.
"I never figured out the whore/madonna problem, or rephrased, why women writers feed that stereotype imposed by men on womanhood in their writing geared to fulfilling female fantasy"
I can see where it comes from, in historical/cultural terms, and for many women that kind of shame about their sexuality is still a very real thing. The sexual double standard still exists, and in some places people hold "purity balls" for girls during which they pledge to stay virginal until marriage. At the same time, there can be a lot of pressure on girls and young women to look sexy, and to sexually fulfill a male partner.
There's a famous narrative poem, one that used to be a standard schoolroom recital piece, called "The Highwayman." A love story, although tragic rather than heading for an HEA. It's actually about self-sacrifice to protect one's beloved, but as you'll see, the gender roles are rather different.
ReplyDeleteYou can find it here: http://www.potw.org/archive/potw85.html.
Yes, I remember we read it at school. The poem's sort of paranormal too, but other than that the two works don't have much in common.
ReplyDeleteI tried to post this this morning but it didn't go through. Trying again.
ReplyDeleteI can see where it's coming from, too, Laura. What I don't and can't understand is why female writers
perpetuate this feeling of shame and by implication teach their female readers that it's still not okay to
be a sexual being unless it's within the context of some made up paranormal world and even then it seems to
me, in this book, the heroine never really enjoyed it until the magic hero shaft came along. That whole
concept irks me tremendously.
I live in the southern U.S. and yes, I've heard about the purity balls and assorted other psycho imprinting
of young females. Especially in light of this cultural regression, I really don't want to read the implied
'only a pure woman is a good woman', too.
Thanks for the explanation of the title. I opted not to check out the poem. I need my HEAs in fiction.
I think there are a mixture of heroines in the genre as a whole, and some have had active sexual lives before meeting the hero and don't feel shame about it. There are still plenty of virginal ones, too, and then there are the ones somewhere in the middle, and I wonder if they're the result of authors trying to negotiate the contradictory cultural pressures which are personified in the other two.
ReplyDeleteIn addition, I suspect that a great many authors don't set out to "teach their female readers" anything. So if their primary goal is to entertain, some aspects of their writing will be more thought through than others.
Michele Hauf's written a response to this post, and she says there (with what I suspect is a touch of irony/sarcasm) that
I had no idea I was thinking some of that stuff while I was writing The Highwayman. Well, I know I wasn't. ;-) Some stuff rings a bell for me. Yep, I was really playing with the fact Aby was sexually innocent even while her job was basically some kind of sex-worker. The forced seduction/rape stuff didn't even come to mind.
Re the poem, I think it was very wise of you not to read it if you only want HEAs. It's rather sad and gory. I suppose someone could argue that if the hero and heroine are both ghosts together that could be construed as a HEA, but it doesn't feel happy to me.
I don't believe that authors set out to 'teach' things in their writing, but I think they ought to be aware that their fiction can indeed teach or influence by reinforcing concepts that readers encounter in their daily lives.
ReplyDeleteThe underlying cultural assumptions or the overturning of established cultural rules or taboos are noticed and internalized by the reader, either with agreement or with disagreement and most often that's entirely subconscious, but that doesn't mean it doesn't happen.
Is it the author's responsibility what people take from their works? Tricky question, but I think my personal answer is yes. So if an author plays into the idea that sex is shameful for women and good women don't enjoy it until the meet the magic male with the magic appendage that suddenly makes the heretofore shameful act 'right' and reflect that attitude in their writing, I find that message harmful, whether they set out to convey that particular message or whether their writing just reflect their own cultural imprinting.
I'm still not entirely convinced that my first encounter with the perfect male in fiction as a teen hasn't ruined me for real life, grin (Auel has a lot to answer for! :)
"fiction can indeed teach or influence by reinforcing concepts that readers encounter in their daily lives."
ReplyDeleteI agree with you about that, and I quoted you the other thread. I'm a little bit more ambivalent about whether or not authors "ought to be aware" of this, because I wonder if it would inhibit some authors too much if they thought about this kind of thing in detail while they were actually writing. Perhaps it would depend on the stage of the process at which the thinking took place. Clearly some authors do think quite a lot about such issues.
"Is it the author's responsibility what people take from their works? Tricky question, but I think my personal answer is yes. So if an author plays into the idea that sex is shameful for women and good women don't enjoy it until the meet the magic male with the magic appendage that suddenly makes the heretofore shameful act 'right' and reflect that attitude in their writing, I find that message harmful"
This really ties in with something I was trying to untangle on the other thread. I'd be interested to read your comments on that. I wonder if there's a difference of opinion based on (a) how emotionally involved different people are when they read, and/or (b) whether they read such scenes as "sexual fantasy" or whether they read them as being real within the world of the story.
Kathleen, I'm intrigued. What kind of thoughts did the post provoke?
ReplyDeleteForgive me for taking so long to answer, but I've been busy. (As we all are, I know.)
I've read romance for a long time, but have only recently started writing in that vein. Unfortunately, I've done very little study about the issues behind romance.
While I've always been aware of the tendency in romance of having the heroine in her 'first' sexual relationship (whether actual or emotional), I hadn't given much though to the fact that it's often also a 'first' for the hero.
That realization made me sit beck and think about relationships both in books that I've read and enjoyed, and in my own writing. So my thought has been consumed mostly in contemplation of how authors I admire have achieved that...and whether it should be done at all. (Or whether presenting a more realistic protrayal of previously promiscuous men (AKA Rakes) and their sexual expectations might be a nobler thing to do as a writer.)
I also had never run across the concept of the 'Glittery HooHa,' which...once I stopped laughing...I realized I had encounted in novels....and then I laughed some more. ;o)
"I hadn't given much though to the fact that it's often also a 'first' for the hero."
ReplyDeleteRomances often emphasise how special this particular relationship is for both characters, I think. It's understandable, really, since it wouldn't be very romantic if they didn't both feel the relationship was special.
The sex-with-the-heroine being special and a "first" for the hero also ties in with the idea that "having sex" is somehow experienced as being different from "making love."
Sometimes the specialness is emphasised by denigrating previous relationships. I remember a conversation on a thread at AAR, for example, about the way that widows (and sometimes widowers) usually end up comparing their new love with their old. I think I'd prefer it if they didn't do that, but just thought of both as special, in their different ways.
"Or whether presenting a more realistic protrayal of previously promiscuous men (AKA Rakes) and their sexual expectations might be a nobler thing to do as a writer.)"
The problem with rakes is that if you were going to write a more realistic portrayal you might have to include syphilis and other sexually transmitted diseases as well as illegitimate children. And maybe I'm a bit cynical, but how many rakes really did reform because they found True Love?
I also had never run across the concept of the 'Glittery HooHa,' which...once I stopped laughing...I realized I had encounted in novels....and then I laughed some more. ;o)
I was really amused, and then intrigued by it when Lani Diane Rich, in that post on Jenny Crusie's blog, introduced me to it. I've been doing quite a bit of work on the GHH, and the theory does hold up to further academic scrutiny, as well as being funny. Like you said, it's definitely there in a lot of novels.
The problem with rakes is that if you were going to write a more realistic portrayal you might have to include syphilis and other sexually transmitted diseases as well as illegitimate children. And maybe I'm a bit cynical, but how many rakes really did reform because they found True Love?
ReplyDeleteSo true. It's a very common motif in Regency Romances, though, one which I've always considered somewhat questionable.
Sometimes the specialness is emphasised by denigrating previous relationships.
I wonder if this is related to the rather uncomfortable (to me) concept of having the 'destined partner.' Using this concept to explain away the above one could be considered a variant on the GHH, but in a....spiritual sense, I suppose.
"I wonder if this is related to the rather uncomfortable (to me) concept of having the 'destined partner.'"
ReplyDeleteThat sounds very plausible to me. I suppose if a couple are depicted as being "fated mates," "soul mates" or, as you put it "destined partners," then any previous relationship isn't going to be as good. And you're right that it would seem to tie in with the concept of the GHH. Since romances tend to present sex between the hero and heroine as "making love" rather than as pure lust/sex, there would seem to be a spiritual aspect to the way the GHH works. No doubt this explains why some characters in romances may barely know each other at the end of the novel (perhaps because the courtship takes place over a very short period of days) and they can seem to have little in common other than what appears to be sexual attraction, but the reader is still supposed to believe that they'll live happily ever after.