Here's a definition I found of "women's fiction":
Women’s fiction is a term that refers to stories where the female protagonist deals with situations and relationships that challenge her and affect her emotional growth.And here's the Romance Writers of America's definition of a romance: "Two basic elements comprise every romance novel: a central love story and an emotionally-satisfying and optimistic ending." I know they also state that "The main plot centers around two individuals falling in love and struggling to make the relationship work" but there are now romances in which there are more than two individuals in the central relationship.
The subjects and themes of these books can cover a wide range of issues that women face. Relationships with other people are important, and are an integral part of the story. Though there is often a love interest, it isn’t the central focus.
What’s most important is the woman’s emotional development as she pursues her dreams, fights her fears, or overcomes obstacles life throws her way. These stories touch the emotions, and don’t necessarily have a happy ending. Like any book, though, women’s fiction does need an ending that satisfies readers. (Benedict)
Today I read a news item which made me wonder if there could also be fewer than two people in the "central love story":
Chen Wei-Yi has had one of the most unusual weddings in history by marrying herself in a ceremony in Taiwan.As she says in the radio interview below:
Chen - whose English name is Only - carried out the ceremony as a protest against the pressures on women in Taiwanese society to get married.
I feel that marrying myself represents a promise to really love myself. With this wedding I want to have a ceremony to prove that I really love myself [...] in the past many women sacrificed themselves or endured injustice. Now, finally, there are many choices open to women and one of these choices is to love ourselves more. So I feel that this is a really good opportunity for women to change society's expectations of them.
So would it be possible to think of a work of "women's fiction" which ends optimistically and in which the protagonist does not end up in a romantic relationship with another person, but does end up in love with herself, as a sort of romance?
I'm not thinking about the definitions in terms of their function as marketing labels: obviously many readers like to know what they're getting and novels which tell the story of a woman's evolving relationship with herself are bound to be considered significantly different from novels which tell the story of the growth of a romantic relationship between two or more people. Also, not all "women's fiction" ends happily, and it may not end with the female protagonist loving herself. All I'm doing here is looking at the definitions and wondering if there are more structural or thematic similarities between modern romance novels and some "women's fiction" than I'd previously thought there were.
Pamela Regis has stated that "A romance novel - a work of prose fiction that tells the story of the courtship and betrothal of one or more heroines - requires certain narrative events" (27). The eight narrative events are as follows:
Society Defined Near the beginning of the novel, the society that the heroine and hero will confront in their courtship is defined for the reader. This society is in some way flawed. (31)I suspect that many, if not all, of these "narrative events" would be present in works of optimistically-ending women's fiction centered around a woman's journey towards loving herself. Obviously one would need to reword some of the descriptions slightly: in most cases, for example, their protagonists, unlike Chen Wei-Yi, do not literally become betrothed to, or marry themselves. What do you think?
The Meeting Usually near the beginning of the novel, but also sometimes presented in flashback, the heroine and hero meet for the first time. (31)
The Barrier A series of scenes often scattered throughout the novel establishes for the reader the reasons that this heroine and hero cannot marry. (32)
The Attraction A scene or series of scenes scattered throughout the novel establishes for the reader the reason that this couple must marry. (33)
The Declaration The scene or scenes in which the hero declares his love for the heroine, and the heroine her love for the hero. (34)
Point of Ritual Death The point of ritual death marks the moment in the narrative when the union between heroine and hero, the hoped-for resolution, seems absolutely impossible, when it seems that the barrier will remain, more substantial than ever. (35)
The Recognition In a scene or scenes the author represents the new information that will overcome the barrier. (36)
The Betrothal In a scene or scenes the hero asks the heroine to marry him and she accepts; or the heroine asks the hero, and he accepts. In romance novels from the last quarter of the twentieth century marriage is not necessary as long as it is clear that heroine and hero will end up together. (38)
----
- Benedict, Carol. "What Does It Mean: Women’s Fiction?" The Writing Place: Tips on Technique. July 12, 2010.
- Regis, Pamela. A Natural History of the Romance Novel. Philadelphia: U of Pennsylvania P., 2003.
- Romance Writers of America. "About the Romance Genre."
- Sui, Cindy. "The woman who married herself." BBC News. 9 November 2010.
I'm not sure I can think of an example in literature, but the thing that first came to mind -- perhaps due to the recent death of brilliant Jill Clayburgh -- is An Unmarried Woman. Even though the film does include a love story with someone else (Alan Bates/Saul), it reaches its happy ending with Clayburgh's character Erica obviously learning to love herself, more than anything else.
ReplyDeletealso an example from film, not literature, but i would consider "All About Steve" a romantic comedy in which the male and female protagonists don't end up together, and sandra bullock's character whose name i'm blanking on at the moment ends up with herself (and a community) and loving it.
ReplyDeleteThanks, both of you, for thinking of examples. I hadn't even got that far! I was stuck in theoretical-thinking mode.
ReplyDeleteUnfortunately (particularly for the purposes of this post) I'm woefully ignorant of most popular genres other than romance.
All the same, mostly on the basis of reviews I've read, I have the impression that there are at least some women's fiction novels (or films) about a woman who's feeling bad for some reason (divorce, bereavement, job loss, family problems, poverty, weight problems etc). These things seem to me to be equivalent to The Barrier.
Her problem will tend to make the woman less than happy with herself and she may decide to make changes in her life, or be forced into changing her life, and/or reassess how she's thought about herself and her past and perhaps one could think of this as being equivalent to The Meeting. Something makes her think she's worthwhile enough to make the effort to improve her situation (even if she doesn't initially feel particularly good about herself/love herself). One could perhaps think of this stage as the equivalent of The Attraction.
Eventually, she overcomes the problem, or comes to terms with it (The Recognition).
By the end of the book she is happier/more content with herself as well as with her situation (the equivalent, perhaps, of The Declaration and The Betrothal.
As I said, I'm thinking about this very theoretically, and maybe that's a bit unwise of me.
In Austen’s novels – claimed as literary antecedents by many in the modern romance community - the HEA of the protagonists’ loving relationship is based on the foundation of respect, esteem, a matured understanding of the Other, and (just as importantly!) better knowledge of the Self. Austen utilizes the courtship plot [the basis for Regis’s eight narrative events] as the means to chart the progress of how the protagonist(s) gain respect, esteem, and better knowledge of and for the other.
ReplyDeleteA novel where a woman comes to “love herself” as the outcome of achieving a mature respect, esteem, and understanding of her Self (both her strengths and her human flaws) would, in my mind, be a parallel to Austen’s theme. A (proper, not excessive) self-love based on [self] respect, [self] esteem, and improved self-knowledge seems to me an excellent foundation for a believable HEA with one’s Self. As long as “learning to love herself” is the main plot of the story, it seems to me the RWA definition requirements are met [central love story + emotionally satisfying/optimistic ending].
An additional thought: In at least some of Austen’s novels, the heroine goes through a period of private reflection that leads to feelings of self mortification, a process necessary in order to reach self-knowledge (Elizabeth Bennet and Emma Woodhouse, in particular). Might the equivalent mortifying moments of humbly acknowledging one’s flaws and errors in our hypothetical “woman-learning-to-love herself” romance equate to Regis’s Point of Ritual Death?
Sometimes I think the male protagonist is clearly a reflection of the heroine ... or the framework to display her courage, intelligence, ect. I think this shows up a lot in the Romantic Gothics I have read. In The Mysteries of Udolpho, the heroine was motivated by her love for the hero, and he was important to her HEA because he was yet another goal she achieved, but she was the one overcoming barriers, lifting veils, and whatnot. Of course, she was already a paragon, so maybe that isn't a good example of self-love. Hmmmm ... it's early and I am not making with the sense. I think I am trying to convey that sometimes the change is all about the heroine and her growth, with very little focus on the hero except as a motivating goal.
ReplyDeleteYet another thought.
ReplyDeleteMight Dodie Smith’s classic “I Capture the Castle” qualify as a novel where a (young) woman learns to understand/accept/respect (and thus, love) herself? Cassandra’s journey to young adult-hood (and self understanding/acceptance) is the primary plot and the novel has an optimistic/emotionally satisfying ending.
A novel where a woman comes to “love herself” as the outcome of achieving a mature respect, esteem, and understanding of her Self (both her strengths and her human flaws) would, in my mind, be a parallel to Austen’s theme.
ReplyDeleteThanks for pointing this out. I think that in romances (and I'd be one of those people who do claim Austen's novels "as literary antecedents" of modern romance novels) there may be a heroine-growing-to-love/know-herself thread which develops alongside the heroine-growing-to-love-the-hero thread.
I don't think it's always there in romances. In romances with a strong heroine-redeeming-the-hero element, for example, there may well be so much emphasis on the hero's growth that the heroine doesn't really change much at all. Or the only change in her may be from single woman to wife, which while it may give her access to greater power, doesn't necessarily involve much change to her personality. [Kyra and I touched on this very briefly in our JPRS essay, in the section about "Completing the Prism"].
That said, quite a lot of romances do give the heroine a proper character arc, so that she changes, learns, and comes to accept/love herself better, over the course of her story. Julie Cohen has written that
if we look at a simple story, such as Cinderella, the heroine starts off as a victim, helpless and lowly, and by the end of the story, she’s gained confidence and learned about her true identity.
Character arc is different from plot, though they reflect each other closely; the plot usually is instrumental in helping the character go through her arc. So Cinderella has her fairy godmother, and the ball and the prince (the things that happen to her, ie the plot)—all of these things help her to grow and to change (ie the character arc). [...]
Romance and women’s fiction generally is all about the character arc. The reader is looking for emotional growth in the heroine from the first page to the last.
In at least some of Austen’s novels, the heroine goes through a period of private reflection that leads to feelings of self mortification, a process necessary in order to reach self-knowledge (Elizabeth Bennet and Emma Woodhouse, in particular). Might the equivalent mortifying moments of humbly acknowledging one’s flaws and errors in our hypothetical “woman-learning-to-love herself” romance equate to Regis’s Point of Ritual Death?
ReplyDeleteYes, I think it could. It's definitely a low point for the heroine, and the etymology of the word "mortify" is entirely appropriate for a "moment of ritual death":
late Middle English (in the senses ‘put to death’, ‘deaden’, and ‘subdue by self-denial’): from Old French mortifier, from ecclesiastical Latin mortificare 'kill, subdue', from mors, mort- 'death'
Since Regis says that her 8 narrative events can occur in any order, I can imagine it would also be possible for there to be instances where this kind of mortifying moment occurs quite near the beginning of the novel.
Of course, she was already a paragon, so maybe that isn't a good example of self-love.
ReplyDeleteIt occurs to me that people might think that Fanny in Austen's Mansfield Park, or Evelina in Burney's Evelina are also "paragons" but I think in both these cases the heroines lack confidence in themselves. As they are tested by events, they stand up for themselves and I think that for these heroines self-confidence, or self-assertion, are versions of self-love. Do you think that could apply to any of the gothic heroines who are "paragons"?
Might Dodie Smith’s classic “I Capture the Castle” qualify as a novel where a (young) woman learns to understand/accept/respect (and thus, love) herself?
ReplyDeleteI haven't read it, so I don't know.
You've got a point. They are paragons because they adhere to their "true-selves", their mores, come hell or high water. Is that love of self or love of principle, tho?
ReplyDelete