Once More Unto the Breach, Dear Friends, Once More

Laura Vivanco

"an ever-fixed mark"?

Issue 2.1 of the Journal of Popular Romance Studies was released last week and among the essays is Lynne Pearce's “Romance and Repetition: Testing the Limits of Love” in which she argues that "the question of whether love is, or is not, repeatable is at the very centre of attempts to both define and understand it." Pearce suggests that "Western culture still clings to the notion that 'true love' is both durable and non-repeatable: it is, by definition, an emotion that stands the test of time." She then outlines some of the implications this has had for romantic fiction, a term which, it should be noted, refers to a group of texts including, but not limited to, romance novels:

How romantic fiction has, in practice, dealt with the spectre of repetition is surely a question worthy of investigation, and—although I have not had the opportunity to conduct such a survey as yet—I offer below some hypothetical models predicated upon the canon of classic romance:

1. Happy Marriage: The most popular solution to the problem is to avoid repetition completely by focusing on only one relationship for the duration of the story and then bring the romance in question to a clean and definitive ending in marriage (“the white wedding”). If previous relationships did feature for one or both of the parties, they are very manifestly not “the real thing” and explained away (see 2 and 3 following). Even though common-sense tells us that it is impossible for any relationship to come to a fixed point, the illusion of closure remains one of the most singular pleasures that romance fiction trades in.
2. Discredited Former Relationship 1: As in Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet wherein Romeo is enamoured of a girl called Rosalind before he meets with Juliet. Although this “repetition” of behaviour has the potential to debase “genuine love,” Romeo’s devotion to Rosalind is treated comically, with the Nurse roundly sending up his heart-sick lament. Discrediting previous relationships through the implication that they were (for example) predicated upon lust, or convenience, rather than love is clearly a neat way of solving the repetition problem. In other words, the characters (and especially the male characters) can be permitted more than one relationship, providing that only the current one is “the real thing.”
3. Discredited Former Relationship 2: As in Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre, there is also the possibility of a character having been “in love” more than once through a plot device which ensures that that the previous love-object is retrospectively discredited. This scenario was perfected in Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca , a text in which it is possible to accept that Maxim loved both Rebecca and the narrator but only because his first wife is subsequently exposed as “not quite all that she seemed.”
4. Definitive Death: Here the notional finitude of marriage is replaced by the absolute finitude of death. The fact that there is no possibility of death-bound lovers repeating, and hence discrediting, their UR-passion explains why tragedy remains the most cast-iron means of supporting the view that love is exclusive, non-repeatable, and forever. The fact that so many tragic lovers actively seek death as a means of protecting their love from compromise underlines the principle that “true love” eschews repetition.
5. Duplicitous Afterlife: Although clearly a variant of “Death,” the solution offered by Gothic Romance is remarkable inasmuch as it simultaneously eschews and embraces repetition. While it is true that the star-crossed lovers at the centre of a Gothic Romance must never be seen to recover from their (one and only) love or its loss, this need not prevent them attempting a re-union with the lost loved-object (or, on occasion, his/her “double”) beyond the grave. Further, the crimes and mishaps that have caused the lovers to be doomed are subsequently seen to repeat those of their forbears and/or to generate a repetition in future generations (Pearce 86). In this respect, then, Gothic Romance must be seen as an instance of a genre both having its cake and eating it: “Genuine Love” is, of course, unique and forever—but so is the (doomed) will-to-repetition.

Taken together, then, what these models suggest is that, throughout history, romance has been consummately successful in side-stepping the problem that repetition poses for the integrity of love, through plot devices that either draw the curtain on previous/subsequent relationships or, alternatively, find some means of discrediting former love-affairs after the event.

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• Pearce, Lynne. "Romance and Repetition: Testing the Limits of Love.” Journal of Popular Romance Studies 2.1 (2011).

The image is a Cupid weathervane from Pentlow, Essex, photographed by Keith Evans (via Wikimedia Commons).

Women of the Romance Genre: In Charge of Love?

Laura Vivanco

Some time ago I read Lynne Pearce's contribution to A Companion to Romance: From Classical to Contemporary, ed. Corinne Saunders, Blackwell, 2004. Pearce begins by stating that

In her original proposal for this Companion, Corinne Saunders observed that: "Romance exists in degenerate form in works of the Mills and Boon type" (my italics). As the author given the responsibility for dealing with this end of the romance spectrum, some manner of defense was clearly called for, and my initial response - "yes, but what is most degenerate is also most defining" - has stood up well to the way this chapter has developed. Like it or not, it is the template originating in these mass-produced romances that has become the twenty-first-century's base-line definition of romance. (521)

Hardly the most ringing endorsement of the genre, it is perhaps on a par with Ann Barr Snitow's conclusion that

In spite of all the audience manipulations inherent in the Harlequin formula, the connection between writer and reader is tonally seamless; Harlequins are respectful, tactful, friendly toward their audience. The letters that pour in to their publishers speak above all of involvement, warmth, human values. The world that can make Harlequin romances appear warm is indeed a cold, cold place. (262)

I was reminded of Pearce and Snitow's backhanded compliments when, thanks to a tweet from RedRobinReader, I came across an article about a forthcoming issue of Granta

dedicated to reflections on gender, power and feminism, in which Lydia Davis, Rachel Cusk, Jeanette Winterson, AS Byatt, Helen Simpson and Téa Obreht, among others, write wide-ranging pieces on women's places in the world, the place of feminism within storytelling and shortfalls of the Women's Movement of the 1970s.

Nothing there about the romance genre, but I was nonetheless reminded of Lynne Pearce's chapter, in which she had written that

Jeanette Winterson's highly popular novels may easily be thought of under the heading of "popular romance" notwithstanding the fact that they are also classified as "literary," "postmodern," and - rather more controversially - "gay" or "queer." What distinguishes them, and similar titles, from the "Mills and Boon" class is that small, but crucial, twist of "knowingness" with which the romantic/sexual adventures are described and analyzed. What is striking about a text like Powerbook, however, is that - in terms of its key "ingredients," and the way in which they have been marketed - this product is not very far removed from romance in its more "degenerate" form.
Putting to one side, then, the postmodern knowingness and irony in which Winterson's text is enfolded, a quick survey of what this text has in common with a classic Mills and Boon novel reveals why the depth of the structures/conventions linking them can also be used to explain the erosion of their generic boundaries, especially in terms of their readership. Apart from the fact that the core narrative tells the familiar story of a chance/fateful meeting between two lovers, a series of obstacles (husband/geographical separation), and reunion, what links this text with the common pleasures of popular romance are: its exotic locations [...]; its focus on the physical appearance of the heroine (in particular her "simple" but "expensive" clothing, 2000: 34); its sensual depiction of gourmet food [...]. (523-24)

Apparently in the forthcoming issue of Granta Winterson, "reflecting on the love affair between Gertrude Stein and Alice B Toklas, bemoans the loss of romance in our post-feminist age" and she states that

Women still have little power in the decision-making processes of government and industry. And the culture is punishing women as never before. We have to be smart, pretty, sexy, good in the kitchen, good at the office, good with the kids. Good in bed. Good at handling men. It is impossible. Older women are written off and teenagers feel they have to be sexually available all of the time. Hence the line in my story: Fucking is the new frigid. There is so little in the culture that helps us to love well, either ourselves or our partners. Love is a casualty of the upgrade culture but women just don't have time anymore to be in charge of love and that is everybody's loss.

I suppose it could be argued, though, that in the most "degenerate" form of romance women are, largely, "in charge of love." Whether that means the romance genre should be celebrated because it "helps us to love well," or taken as an indication that the world is a "cold, cold place," I leave it to each reader to decide. As for me, I'm wondering what light Smart Bitch Sarah's forthcoming Everything I Know about Love I Learned from Romance Novels will shed on the question.

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• Akbar, Arifa. "Is feminism relevant to 21st-century fiction?" The Independent, Friday, 13 May 2011.
• Pearce, Lynne. "Popular Romance and its Readers." A Companion to Romance: From Classical to Contemporary. Ed. Corinne Saunders. Oxford: Blackwell, 2004. 521-538.
• Snitow, Ann Barr. "Mass Market Romance: Pornography for Women is Different." Radical History Review 20 (1979): 141-61. Rpt. in Powers of Desire: The Politics of Sexuality. Ed. Ann Snitow, Christine Stansell and Sharon Thompson. New York: Monthly Review, 1983. 245-263.

The image, which is available for use under a Creative Commons license, was adapted by Phil Bradley. He altered the text from a World War 1 poster in order to support public libraries.

What do you think's romantic?

We're coming up for Valentine's Day, so I thought it might be a good time to think about what we mean by 'romance' and 'romantic' in general, and also on the relationship between these ideas and the modern romance genre.

According to Jackie Stacey and Lynne Pearce

Despite the fact that the late twentieth-century has offered us many new possibilities for how we may conduct our interpersonal relationships, romance itself seems indestructible. While studies like Shere Hite's [...] reveal a dramatic increase in divorce, non-monogamy, couples living together outside of marriage, and other 'non-standard' relationships (including a noticeable increase in the number of gay and lesbian relationships), the trappings of 'classic romance' (love songs, white weddings, Valentine's day and so on) remain as commercially viable as ever. (1995: 11, my emphasis)

I think we'd all acknowledge the truth of the italicised part of that statement. In the US alone,

According to the National Retail Federation’s (NRF) 2007 Valentine's Day Consumer Intentions and Actions Survey, conducted by BIGresearch for NRF, the average consumer will spend $119.67 on Valentine's Day, up from $100.89 last year. With 63.4 percent of consumers planning to celebrate the holiday, total 2007 Valentine's Day spending is expected to reach $16.90 billion. [...] Popular gifts include cards (62.8%), candy (48.4%) and flowers (36.7%). In addition, close to half of consumers (45.3%) will treat their loved one to a special evening out. (National Retail Federation, 2007)

As Pearce and Stacey noted, the increasing number of people who are 'out' and living openly in gay and lesbian relationships has not diminished the appeal of traditionally romantic gestures. In fact, in the UK where gay and lesbian civil partnerships give legal recognition to such relationships, there are now business targeting 'pink weddings' and 'one survey suggests the pink wedding industry could be worth as much as £600m by 2010' (BBC).

So romance and traditional concepts of the romantic are alive and well, though they may be given a modern twist by some. They can also have a downside:

It has been estimated that for one in ten new spouses, the anticlimax of married life is so severe it develops into what is known as postnuptial depression. This increasingly common condition can continue for months, leaving sufferers feeling disillusioned, confused and even questioning if getting married was a mistake.

But when so much has been invested in the wedding, it's no wonder so many people experience such a comedown. (BBC)

It's possibly worth remembering that some 'romantic' settings and objects have a relatively recent history whereas others are much more traditional. Almost all are also culturally specific. Diamonds, for example, did not always have the prominence they do now:

The diamond engagement ring was one of the greatest triumphs of mass consumer marketing. The "tradition" is said to date back to 1477, when Austria's Archduke Maximillian presented his fiancée, Mary of Burgundy, with a diamond engagement ring, but diamond ownership remained very much an aristocratic frill until the discovery of the South African stones. The South African boom "democratized" diamonds to a certain extent, and by the 1920s you find "Good Manners" manuals recommending diamonds for American brides. The big marketing push did not come until the late 1930s, however, when Harry Oppenheimer of De Beers Consolidated Mines, Ltd., hired the N. W. Ayer advertising agency to boost diamond sales. Plans for the campaign were ambitious. The company arranged for movie stars to flaunt the company's jewels, and Hollywood screenwriters were approached to include "diamond themes" in movie scripts. (Proctor 2001: 390)

Epstein describes how this newly created tradition was introduced to Japanese society through highly successful marketing:

When the campaign began in 1968, less than 5 percent of Japanese women getting married received a diamond engagement ring. By 1972 the proportion had risen to 27 percent. By 1978, half of all Japanese women who were married wore a diamond on their ring finger. And, by 1981, some 6o percent of Japanese brides wore diamonds. In a mere thirteen years, the fifteen-hundred-year Japanese tradition was radically revised.

So what has this got to do with romance novels? Well, it seems to me that this 'commercially viable', 'classic' model of romance is perhaps one that non-romance readers associate with the romance genre. The Compact Oxford English Dictionary, for example, among other definitions of 'romance', states that 'romance' can mean ' a book or film dealing with love in a sentimental or idealized way'. You literally can't get much more sentimental or idealised (or fluffier or pinker) than Barbara Cartland, who 'was known as the Queen of Romance, writing 723 books with estimated worldwide sales of one billion copies in 36 languages'. Here's a sample of her writing-style:

She had not imagined a kiss could make her feel as if a streak of sunlight ran through her body, making her pulsatingly alive.
It was so rapturous, so perfect, that she thought the angels she had heard singing at Letty's wedding were all round them, and the wonder of the Marquis's lips were part of the music, the beauty, and everything she had thought was out of reach (1978 : 138)

You don't tend to find writing like that any more in modern romance novels, but the stereotypes about the genre persist. In 2006, for example, romance author 'Emily Giffin, author of best sellers such as "Something Borrowed" and "Something Blue"' was quoted saying of the genre that "It's not all lace and moonlight and heaving bosoms. That's all nice, but it's about a lot more than that'. But clearly the very fact that she mentioned the 'lace and moonlight and heaving bosoms' is an indication that she believed that this was a perception which exists about the genre, and she was right. Harlequin Mills & Boon in particular have tended to be associated with this type of 'classic' or 'traditional' view of romance. One article written in 2005 about the Bombshell line which was then being launched noted that 'Harlequin Mills & Boon [...] are famous for giving women an easy read, filled with old-fashioned romance' (my emphasis). Another article, this time from 2006 and about a workshop for would-be Mills & Boon authors begins:

In a fairy-tale castle painted pink, romance is in the air. A dark, brooding hero with a cruel smile is toying with the affections of a girl who has a tiny waist and a trembling heart. Fear and desire tussle within her as he touches her blushing cheek with the rough fingers of a huge hand. Then, breaking the spell, the clock strikes 11am and it is time to stop for tea and chocolate biscuits.

Harlequin's 2007 Romance Report has been criticised for what it doesn't do:

Does the report talk about how smart romance readers are? Or how diverse they are? Does the report highlight books, trends in reading, or new authors? Does it uplift the genre and speak to the issue of credibility? No. It panders to every godforsaken stereotype about romance readers out there. [...] The report is about statistics compiled, not of readers and what they want to see in their books or covers that are appealing or topics and so forth. Instead it is a report of what 2,256 US adults think of romance.

The Smart Bitches weren't very impressed either and declared that Harlequin were Doing More to Damage the Cause than Puffypaint Sweaters.

It seems to me, though, that Harlequin's efforts weren't entirely illogical or misdirected. Given the perception that romance (in the sense of romantic gestures and ways of behaving) involves pink cards, lace underwear, chocolates, roses, moonlight and serenades, and the fact that Harlequin Mills & Boon, and by association the whole romance genre, is still very strongly associated with this sort of romance, it made sense for Harlequin to try to highlight changes in people's perceptions of what's romantic that reflect the wide range of situations that are to be found in modern romance novels. According to Harlequin we are now seeing the rise of ' the New Romantics – men and women who are searching for a type of romance that is more accessible and realistic, a type of romance that complements their own personal style and comfort level'. Some of these people would presumably be unlikely to approach the romance genre if they thought it was all about 'classic romance'. And, according to Harlequin, there are a lot of people thinking this way: 'More than four in five men (87%) and nine in ten women (93%) agree that it [romance] can be whatever you want it to be. As the numbers suggest, everyone is looking for a type of romance that is accessible and natural to them'. I suspect that Harlequin, with its wide range of category lines catering to different tastes, doesn't want to alienate any of them, so the report doesn't insult those who still appreciate traditional romantic gestures. Instead it states that:

Flowers and chocolate are still in, considering 72% of all men and 78% of all women disagree with the statement that traditional ideas of romance such as flowers and chocolate are outdated. The new romance is whatever you want it to be, so if the old classics are your style, then by all means keep it up. Just remember, especially this Valentine’s Day, there’s an entire world out there beyond flowers and chocolate.

I wonder whether there's any correlation (either positive or negative) between people's tastes regarding real-life romance and their preferences in romance novels. Are those with a penchant for red roses and candle-lit dinners more likely to look for romance novels with the more conventionally romantic settings and characters? Or could it be that those who in real life take a cynical view of romance prefer these settings precisely because they're different? Do real-life pragmatists prefer a bit of grit and realism with their Happy-Ever-Afters or do they opt for a greater degree of escapism in their fiction? I suspect one can't make generalisations, and although it's probably fairly obvious by now that my personal preference isn't for 'classic romance', I don't in any way wish to deride the tastes of those who prefer different sorts of books or romantic gestures.

In many ways this takes me back to my discussion about 'wallpaper' historical romances. I suspect that the more wallpaper-ish a novel is, the more it can omit the details which would seem less than romantic to some readers. This goes well beyond the way that issues such as those surrounding personal hygiene are often glossed over in historical romances. In a 'wallpaper' historical the characters can behave and think in ways which will seem more 'romantic' to 21st century readers. My reading of medieval chronicles has left me with the impression that most medieval noblemen were the equivalent of modern-day politicians, and there aren't many heroes or heroines who have that profession (All About Romance has a very short list of them), which makes me wonder if it's seen as less 'romantic' or 'heroic' than many others. Juliet Flesch reports that

Market surveys [...] have found that readers do not warm to politicians, athletes or actors as heroes. According to Emma Darcy, Alison Kelly, Joan Kilby and Marion Lennox, they are seen as self-absorbed, unlikely to make the commitment required of the romance hero or heroine to human relationships in general and one relationship in particular. (2004: 227)

I wonder if historical romances tend to feature aristocratic characters at least in part because many of the items which we associate with romance (lace, silks, candles, music, chocolate, expensive jewellery) would previously have only been accessible to the aristocracy in large quantities and high quality. Ironically, the poets, authors and aristocrats of the past often associated romance with the countryside and peasants, though in an extremely 'wallpaper' form. In pastoral literature the bucolic life is presented as the antithesis of the intrigue and political manoeuvring to be found at court:

The pastoral convention is an idealized version of country life that draws on Greek, Roman, and Biblical examples. Pastoral praises the freedom and contemplative life absent of personal ambition, the power struggles of the court, and fortune's vagaries. (William E. Smith, course materials for English 214)

Here's part of the Elizabethan poet Christopher Marlowe's The Passionate Shepherd to His Love:

Come live with me and be my Love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That hills and valleys, dale and field,
And all the craggy mountains yield.

There will we sit upon the rocks
And see the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

There will I make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroider'd all with leaves of myrtle.

A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull,
Fair linèd slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold.

(There's analysis of the poem here and here). Marie Antoinette

directed architect Richard Mique and artist Hubert Robert to conjure up a sylvan fantasy of artificial streams, grottoes and winding paths. (During nighttime galas, a Temple of Love rotunda and a glass music salon were illuminated by wood fires hidden in trenches in the ground.) In 1784, the two designers created what, from the outside, appeared to be a hamlet (the Hameau) of cracked and tumbledown cottages, which, in fact, were appointed with comfortable couches, stoves and billiard tables. (Smithsonian Magazine)

So, what do you think's romantic? And are there some settings or professions which you don't find romantic?
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• Cartland, Barbara, 1978. The Problems of Love (London: Corgi).
• Flesch, Juliet, 2004. From Australia with Love: A History of Modern Australian Popular Romance Novels (Fremantle, Western Australia: Curtin University Press).
  
• Proctor, Robert N., 2001. 'Anti-Agate: The Great Diamond Hoax and the Semiprecious Stone Scam', Configurations, 9.3: 381-412.
  
• Stacey, Jackie and Lynne Pearce, 1995. 'The Heart of the Matter: Feminists Revisit Romance', in Romance Revisited, ed. Lynne Pearce & Jackie Stacey (New York: New York University Press), pp. 11-45.

P.S. For those of you who are really, really sick of 'classic romance', here's a link to the Be My Anti-Valentine site: 'The idea of the site is to provide an alternative card-sending service for all the people who think Valentine’s Day is sickly-sweet, exclusively coupley, consumerist nonsense or otherwise a bit naff' (from the FAQs). The creator of the site doesn't reject romance:

I’m not anti-love or anti-romance or anti-relationships. I’m against hollow gestures prescribed by people who are out to make money out of the holiday. [...] I’m against anyone with a vested interest telling us how and when it’s appropriate to be affectionate - say it with roses, a diamond is forever, if you REALLY loved her, you’d take her to Paris. [...] I hate the fact that flowers which are reasonably priced at any other time of the year suddenly rocket in price in February, only to plummet again afterwards.

The site may not stay up for long after 14 February, so here's a link to a blog-post giving the basic details.