Showing posts with label Thomas Hardy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thomas Hardy. Show all posts

Sunday, January 07, 2007

Famous Literary Predecessors of the Modern Romance Novel

My New Year's resolution was to read and blog about some of the predecessors of the modern romance novels published today.* I also qualified this by adding that I'd only blog about some of the less well-known novels. That's because some of these predecessors are among the most famous novels written, and (a) you can read about them in great detail elsewhere and (b) anything I could write here would look a bit feeble in comparison with the volumes of literary criticism on them that already exist. I will, though, mention some of the famous literary predecessors of the modern romance very briefly. I'm sticking to novels which are romance according to the RWA definition, i.e. novels that have 'a central love story and an emotionally satisfying and optimistic ending'. For reasons of space, if a particular author has written more than one romance I'll usually just list one of them.
  • 1740, Richardson, Samuel, Pamela: or, Virtue Rewarded. This is Richardson's 'most widely read work. At once profoundly influential, yet heavily and publicly vilified, the novel's publication marked the beginning of one of the most astounding moments in literary history and laid the foundation for Richardson's status as one of the founding fathers of the modern novel.' (Batchelor 2002). Regis dedicates a chapter to it (2003: 63-74). You can read a brief description of the novel here, and see illustrations from five eighteenth-century editions here.
  • 1778, Burney, Frances, Evelina: Or, The History of a Young Lady's Entrance into the World . This was 'a critical success, receiving praise from respected individuals, including the statesman Edmund Burke, and literary critic Dr. Johnson. It was admired for its comic view of wealthy English society, and for its realistic portrayal of working class London dialects' (Wikipedia). It was initially published anonymously, which led 'leading London society to speculate on the identity of the writer, who was universally assumed to be a man', though Burney's identity was later revealed and 'She was taken up by literary and high society and became the first woman to make writing novels respectable' (The Burney Society). Another aspect of Evelina which was of great significance for future women writers was that 'The "comedy of manners" genre in which she worked paved the way for Jane Austen, Maria Edgeworth, and other 19th-century writers' (The Burney Society).
  • 1813, Austen, Jane, Pride and Prejudice. Sarah's already claimed Austen as a romance author, and this novel is so well-known and well-loved that it hardly seems to require any further description from me, but if you'd like the Spark Notes, they're here, and, as they say, 'Pride and Prejudice contains one of the most cherished love stories in English literature: the courtship between Darcy and Elizabeth'. Colin Firth's portrayal of Darcy in the 1995 BBC adaptation is extremely popular. The link to the text of the novel will take you to the Republic of Pemberley site, where you can find a wealth of information about Austen, her novels and her times. You can also see Regis (2003: 75-84), and the chapter's titled 'The Best Romance Novel Ever Written', which makes Pam's feelings on this novel extremely clear! My favourite Austen is Persuasion, but I know I'm in the minority on this.
  • 1847, Brontë, Charlotte, Jane Eyre. If you haven't read it, and want a quick synopsis, there's one here, or you can look at the Spark Notes. The Victorian Web has plenty of very short articles on many aspects of the novel, including its political and social context, treatment of gender issues, and imagery/symbolism. See also Regis (2003: 85-91).
    When Jane Eyre was published in 1847, it became a bestseller. The reviews were on the whole favorable. There was much speculation about whether the writer was a man or a woman [...]. When it became known that a woman had written such a passionate novel and seemed so knowing sexually, the reviews became more negative. [...] The reviewer for the Rambler expressed a criticism that was made against all the Bronte novels--coarseness. The reference to "grosser and more animal passions" is a roundabout way of saying "sex." (Melani 2005)
  • 1847, Brontë, Anne, Agnes Grey. There's a synopsis here, where the observation is made that
    Anne's first novel resembles in its calm naturalism nothing so much as one of the later Austen novels, with the vital difference that her heroine is a working woman. It deserves, far more than Jane Eyre, the description 'governess novel', because Agnes's experience is far more typical, and the predicament of the occupation is analysed much more closely. (Brontë Parsonage Museum and Brontë Society).
    Agnes Grey isn't as famous as Jane Eyre, but personally I prefer both it and Anne's The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, which 'A number of contemporary critics have recognized [...] as a landmark feminist text' (Downey, 2000) to the other Brontë novels. Whatever the reason, I can manage perfectly well without the brooding Mr Rochester (and particularly without the horrible Heathcliff).
  • 1854, Gaskell, Elizabeth Cleghorn, North and South. There's a synopsis here. Unlike the Brontës, Gaskell shows us the industrial activity which contributed so greatly to the Victorian economy.
    The novel is famous as an "industrial novel" that engages [with] class struggle and suffering in newly industrialized Victorian cities like Manchester (or, as Gaskell calls it, Milton) and as an important female bildungsroman or coming-of-age novel. Margaret's public intervention in the strike ranks among the most exciting moments in Victorian literature. (Literature, Arts and Medicine Database)
  • 1861, Trollope, Anthony, Framley Parsonage. There's a synopsis here and it was with this novel that 'Anthony Trollope enjoyed his first popular success. It is the fourth of Trollope's Chronicles of Barsetshire - a set of six novels that share a fictional geography, interlaced characters, and a thematic preoccupation with the church in a Cathedral town' (Regis 2003: 93). Although a 'thematic preoccupation with the church' might sound a little dull, it really isn't. This is a church rife with the equivalent of modern office politics, and for those of you who like series of romances which follow a group of characters, Trollope's Chronicles of Barsetshire provide an example of rich and complex world-building. His other series, the Palliser novels, again involve politics, though this time the plots 'usually involve English politics in varying degrees, specifically in and around Parliament' (Wikipedia). Trollope was an extremely prolific author, and this may well have been a trait he learned from his mother:
    Fanny Trollope [...] had been writing, industriously, a record of her crazy trip to America. She called it: Domestic Manners of the Americans. It was published, and quickly became a bestseller. [...] It gave Anthony an insight into how a professional writer should write. From his mother's example (she was constantly writing for many years, although she never quite achieved the same degree of success), he learned the habit of sheer hard work. (The Trollope Society)
    One might make comparisons with Nora Roberts' work habits, but unfortunately for Trollope, 'After his death Trollope's literary reputation sank low, and he was regarded as something of a journeyman of letters. This arose partly from the revelation in his Autobiography that he treated literature as a trade and wrote by the clock' (The Victorian Web). It rose again, however, as the mass of writing about his work testifies, and he still has plenty of enthusiastic fans in the UK, US and elsewhere.
  • 1872, Hardy, Thomas, Under the Greenwood Tree. I know this isn't the most famous of Hardy's works, but it seems only right to include Hardy who is, as the Penguin Reader Factsheet acknowledges, 'one of the greatest novelists of the nineteenth century' and 'This charming, timeless story of rural life gave Hardy his first real taste of fame and success'. Or, as one reader candidly describes it,
    it's a book with about the least plot you will ever find in a novel. It's also on the short side. Unusually for Hardy's novels. it has a happy ending - however Far from the Madding Crowd, the next one he wrote, does too - it was only as Hardy's reputation grew that he could afford to upset his public at the end of every book.
    I was amused to note that one of the minor characters, whom some consider a witch, is called Mrs Endorfield.
  • 1908, Forster, E. M, Room with a View. As Regis observes, 'E. M. Forster may have ended this novel happily, but he was by no means sanguine about happy endings in general' (2003: 99). It's fame is probably due at least in part to the award-winning 1986 Merchant Ivory film. The Spark Notes are here.
Can you think of any others? I thought of including George Eliot's Daniel Deronda, but although it has a love story and a happy ending, I'm not sure whether the love story between Daniel and Mirah is 'central'. I also considered Dickens' Great Expectations, but again, I wasn't sure if Pip and Estella's relationship is really 'central'. And how about D. H. Lawrence's Lady Chatterley's Lover? It certainly has a central love relationship and the ending, if not happy, seems relatively optimistic. What do you think?

Even incomplete as it is, what this list suggests to me is that (a) as we've discussed previously, men can write romance/romantic novels and (b) that the so-called 'constraints' of writing within the romance genre (which basically amount to the need to end a love-story happily) in no way preclude the creation of a work of literary merit.

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  • Regis, Pamela, 2003. A Natural History of the Romance Novel (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press).
* I'm taking the term 'today' somewhat loosely, to mean 'anytime in the past few decades'. Having been a medievalist, a decade or two seems like a short space of time to me. I'm sure geologists would consider a decade the equivalent of a mere blinking of an eye.

Monday, September 04, 2006

Metaromance (3)

Here's one I found online. It's a short story by Liz Fielding, The Secret Wedding and I'm only going to quote from the first chapter, to avoid giving spoilers. You can find it at the Mills & Boon online reads library. The formatting on the Mills & Boon website is a little strange, but you should still be able to read the story. There are 8 tiny 'chapters', each with 3 sections. It used to be on the Harlequin website too, but they removed most of the online reads, which I thought was a bit of a shame, but it could be because they've launched an ebook 'boutique' where, among other things, they're selling 'Harlequin mini' ebooks. I'm sure at least one of the mini ebooks is a story which used to be a free online read.

The Secret Wedding is a story about two writers. The hero, Tom,
wrote bestselling thrillers for men. His readers didn’t want emotional guff polluting the action. Women were included for the sole purpose of providing sex and sympathy while they fixed up his hero’s wounds. And to bump up the body count.
The heroine is 'bestselling romance novelist Mollie Blake', who's giving a writing workshop. The types of novels written by the protagonists, and the way they're described, reminds me of this description of the collaboration between Jennifer Crusie and Bob Mayer, though I think Fielding's story was written some time prior to this:
One evening in Maui [at the Maui Writers Conference, where both were teaching], Jenny Crusie was watching the sun set over the Pacific when Bob Mayer sat down beside her and said, “What do you write?” Jenny said, “Well, basically, in my books, people have sex and get married.” Bob said, “In my books, people have sex and die.”
Tom's publisher is not entirely happy with his writing and tells him that he has to go on a writing course because
" [...] you seem to have lost that wonderful humanity the women readers loved. Get back in touch with your feminine side, Tom." The man hadn’t been making a suggestion. He’d meant it. "Women buy a lot of books."
Women do, indeed, seem to read more fiction than men. In 2005, for example, Statistics Canada published a report including the finding that 'Women are clearly the biggest readers. Women comprise 6 out of 10 regular readers and 7 out of 10 heavy readers'. In the UK, according to a 2002 report prepared by Book Marketing Limited:
  • Men spend slightly more time reading (about 5%) than women, but this is because they spent far more time reading printed newspapers and electronic information. Women are more avaricious book readers, particularly of fiction. Over a quarter of women’s reading is devoted to fiction, compared to one sixth for men. [...]
  • Two thirds of all books started are read by women, though this rises to over 70% for fiction, and falls to under half for non-fiction.
  • Of the new books started, three-quarters are fiction. Over 80% of new books started by women are fiction, whereas for men this figure is nearer 60%.

The story told in The Secret Wedding isn't particularly full of novelties: it doesn't 'push the envelope' of genre conventions. But it isn't meant to. Instead, it illustrates the various aspects of the romance novel that Mollie intends teaching her students. Each chapter begins with a quotation from 'Mollie Blake’s Writing Workshop Notes', and then serves as an example of how to put the writing advice into practice.

The advice given in Chapter One is: 'Begin your story at a moment of crisis, a point in time when your character’s life is about to change forever'. While this advice isn't adhered to by those who commence with a prologue, or many famous authors such as Thomas Hardy (his Return of the Native, for example, begins with a pages-long description of the landscape of Egdon Heath), it does seem to be popular with many contemporary writers of genre fiction. At the site of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America, for example, there's an item which asks:
Does the story start at the right place (the beginning?) Most stories by beginning writers start far too early - way before the key action takes place. Some, however, may start too far forward. These writers have taken the advice of "start with the action at full steam" too literally.
At Liz Fielding's own website she gives the same advice as Mollie does: 'The opening is important. Start with the crisis'.

The descriptions of the characters are similarly, and quite explicitly, written to fit genre conventions: 'she was the kind of woman that any one of his heroes would be glad to have hanging off his left arm', and:
the man was a relic from some cliché-ridden romance. Ignoring the pick-chat up line, she straightened, unimpressed with Mr. Cute.

But she couldn't escape the clichés. Even in the darkness of the car park she could see that he was tall, with mile-wide shoulders.

I had a lot of fun with this, reading the story and noticing how it fitted Mollie's guidelines, and how self-aware Fielding was about genre conventions/clichés. There's even a fairy-tale beginning, '"Once upon a time..."' at the very end of the story, which reminds us that romances have a lot in common with fairytales, and usually end with everyone living happily ever after.