This is just a personal exploration.
In March 2007, having read almost no fiction for over a decade, I did something very strange: I walked into a drug store looking for something to read. For fun. After perusing the short stack of best sellers, I walked out with J. R. Ward’s Lover Revealed. I now realize that I had essentially skipped the “gateway drugs” and gone right for the crack.
I read Lover Revealed in one sitting, then read the first three books in the Black Dagger Brotherhood series as quickly as I could find them. From there, I moved on to other paranormal series, by Sherrilyn Kenyon and Christine Feehan. Then historicals, then contemporaries. More recently, I’ve branched out to SFF and mystery with strong romantic elements.
I didn’t realize at first that Lover Revealed was a romance. I am not an observant person, to say the least, and the cover is pretty understated. What piqued my interest was actually the vampire angle. I have been interested in vampires since I was traumatized (but in a fun way) by the miniseries based on Stephen King’s Salem’s Lot. I even got tenure partly on the strength of an article on a certain vamp fighting lass. Despite my knowledge of Buffy, I had no idea — virtually none — that a romance novel could have a vampire hero.
I know why I didn’t read fiction for all those years: I didn’t make time for it. But when I did occasionally crack open a book, why wasn’t it a romance? My negative attitude to romance was overdetermined by my PhD, my background in fem theory, and my absorption of cultural prejudices.
I had a read a couple romances as a ‘tween, and wasn’t aware the genre had evolved and diversified in the past 20 years. My judgment of romance was based on my foggy recollection of Rosemary Rogers, honed into scorn by years studying and professing feminist theory, as well as the usual stock of prejudices that people who don’t read romance accept. I also felt constrained by the thought that I ought to be reading literature: the books my peers and colleagues were reading.
I don’t recall ever wanting to pick up a romance, but I am sure if I had, I would have wondered whether others would think I was not as intelligent, cultured, or as committed to feminism as I presented myself to be. More importantly, I would also have wondered it about myself.
I became interested in the online romance community almost immediately. While reading romance novels themselves was doing a lot to overcome my false ideas about the genre, finding websites like Smart Bitches Who Love Trashy Books and Mrs. Giggles was crucial in helping me to overcome my prejudices about romance readers. These women were intelligent, funny, and hip, not just in spite of, but perhaps in part because of, their consumption of romance. This was a gang I would be proud to associate myself with, even if only virtually.
One of the main sources of disdain for romance novels is the idea that they are opiates for “bored, frustrated housewives” who fantasize about escaping their unfulfilling lives by identifying with the heroine who is swept off her feet by a rich handsome prince.
I’d like to address this particular assumption. When my children were babies, when my spouse and I were trying to get our PhDs, get jobs, and get tenure, I found this very hard. I was really struggling for a while there. The last thing I wanted to do, or had time for was “escape”. I had to work. At everything. All the time.
[I have always been deeply privileged in many ways. I know that. But you don't know me, so I want to clarify that when I talk about years of "struggle" it's only relative to other periods in my generally charmed life.]
Contrast this to March 2007: I was on vacation in a sunny part of the world. I was not only on vacation, but I was on my post tenure sabbatical. My spouse had just gotten tenure, and my marriage, always the rock of my existence, entered a period of renewal and rediscovery. My kids had entered what we jokingly call the “latency period” — a comparatively calm time when the exhaustion of the hands on early years has passed and the stresses of teen years has yet to begin. In short, compared to the previous decade, I was coasting.
Like a lot of (but not all) women, growing older has made me happier, in part because it has made me less worried about what other people think. Getting tenure, and gaining some small amount of stature in my field has also been significant in helping me to exert control over my work conditions. Thanks also to a consulting sideline, I am financially as well off as I have ever been.
My point — and I do have one — is this: far from signaling my own boredom, despair, powerlessness, or decaying marriage, my romance reading began at the exact period in my life when I had more leisure time, more power (personally, professionally, and economically) and a richer relationship with my partner.
On the other hand (and there always is one, with me) there may be a grain of truth in the myth I just rejected. I won’t say I am in a midlife crisis (got plenty of time for that), but I am in a reflective space, and I can now see that choices have been made which have set me on a certain path. To put it in my usual “glass half empty” terms, when one door of happiness opens, another closes. It’s a happy accident that my life has turned out pretty much the way I wanted it to, but I find myself a bit nostalgic. Also, I think the fact that my personal life right now is one of such easy contentment, that I find I am drawn in some ways — and have the mental resources to handle – the drama and pathos and openness which so many romances present.
Like all of you, I read romance for lots of different reasons, often more than one reason at a time. It depends on the day of the week, the book, my mood, all kinds of things. Sometimes, yes, I read romance to “escape” from a boring or frustrating day. Sometimes to experience a different life. Sometimes for fun and laughter, or for terror and tears. Sometimes to make new imaginary friends, either authors or characters. Sometimes (please internet gods, let the semi-anonymity of this blog hold) for the sexxoring. Essentially, I read romance for all the reasons anybody might read any kind of fiction.
Already the details of that fateful day in 2007 are getting a bit foggy (as is the plot of Lover Revealed). I know my story is not particularly unique or interesting. But I felt compelled to write it down so that I remember that a chance grab of a J.R. Ward paperback while my family was waiting in an overheating rental minivan in a parking lot in Florida has led to one of the most richly rewarding activities I have been privileged to enjoy.
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#1 by MoJo on December 19, 2008 - 8:55 pm
“I think the fact that my personal life right now is one of such easy contentment, that I find I am drawn in some ways — and have the mental resources to handle – the drama and pathos and openness which so many romances present.”
That.
I do not want drama in my life. Period. End of story. I do not have what anyone could consider real drama. I could not live with the men I write, nor could I live with the paper-and-ink uber-alphas I love and adore and cherish.
HOWEVER.
I like that adrenaline rush of the up-and-down angst, the good cry, the implausible scenarios, the rich alphas, and the perfect sex. Each and every time.
Because my real life is boring and I like it that way and you better believe I’m going to keep it that way come hell or high water.
#2 by KristieJ on December 19, 2008 - 10:22 pm
I think it’s interesting how each of us came into the romance genre. In my case I’ve been a fan in one sort or another all my life. But there was a time when I left it behind for a while and almost tiptoed back into it.
With one person it’s a romantic suspense that got them going, with another, a historical and then in some cases such as yours, paranormal or more specifically vampire.
But once we are in, our whole perception is turned around isn’t it? I am thrilled and honoured to be part of such a diverse and intelligent community.
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#3 by carolyn jean on December 20, 2008 - 10:33 am
What a fantastic post! I love reading about your journey and the way you overcame false ideas about the genre – who reads them, and issues of quality as well. It echos so much of my journey, though I came more out of a culture of writerly snobbishness about literature and MFA types; it wouldn’t have crossed my mind to pick up a romance until recently – was it hitting my 40s? And two people forced Outlander onto me. And it’s opened a whole wonderful world of passion for stories for me. I can honestly say reading romance has improved the quality of my life for the sheer fun and entertainment and anticipation – something I didn’t realize was missing from my reading! And now I’m even writing it! I still have a lot of trouble with people I know, though. I just feel the judgement. I hate it!
#4 by RfP on December 20, 2008 - 3:35 pm
I don’t think it’s “just” personal. It’s totally appropriate in discussing genre disdain, because surely much of the hyperbole in attitudes like these:
arises from our very personal perceptions of ourselves and who we are, want to be, and want to spend time with.
I’ve read literary fiction, genre fiction, and nonfiction all my life. The people around me in real life read literary and nonfiction; online, there’s a mix, but the “genre” and “literary” communities don’t mix much. I feel the disdain too, but both directions: sometimes genre readers display quite a harsh reverse-chip about my reading.
Added: grr, I am not getting along with the new visual-editor thingy!
#5 by bookwormom on December 20, 2008 - 11:36 pm
Thank you for sharing your reading journey. Like RfP I feel your story contributes to the ongoing conversation about the ‘relative value’ of genre fiction. I’ve not done a post about how I came to romance reading, but perhaps I will.
#6 by Jessica on December 21, 2008 - 7:42 am
Bookwormom — I hope you do post on it. And I thank you and RfP for contextualizing my personal account in a broader conversation.
Kristie and Carolyn Jean — yes, it;s been like walking into a wardrobe and ending up in Narnia. You get turned around, but you get a new source of wonder and enjoyment. This is the first hobby I think I’ve ever had in my life.
Mojo — I am glad someone agrees with me on the drama question. contented doesn’t have to mean bored or frustrated.
RfP — I didn’t say anything about the relative merits of genre fiction, incuding romance, versus “literature” in the post. I agree completely that the dismissal of, for example, the western canon as “dead white men’s” books, is incorrect and unproductive and possibly dangerous.
I have spent my adult life critiquing the androcentrism of my dicsipline’s canon from a feminist p.o.v, and attempting to diversity and enrich the curriculum of my department and university with more women writers and more feminist writers. But I would never throw the baby out with the bathwater.
More controversially, at least among the romance crowd, I am not committed to the idea that every book is as good as every other, nor even the idea that every genre is as good as every other.
#7 by Laura Vivanco on December 21, 2008 - 8:00 am
“More controversially, at least among the romance crowd, I am not committed to the idea that every book is as good as every other.”
I’m not sure who or what you’re referring to here, but since most romance review sites give quite specific grades to each book, and since many readers have described how they have favourite authors, vote in polls for their favourite books of the year etc., I’ve always thought of most romance readers as having no commitment “to the idea that every book is as good as every other.” A recent example of this opposition to the idea that all books are just as good as each other is Sarah Frantz’s recent post in which she stated that Scott’s Waverley is a bad book and Anah Crow’s Uneven is a good one.
My own answer to the question of whether some books are better than others is here.
#8 by Laura Vivanco on December 21, 2008 - 8:04 am
Jessica, I can see that you’ve helpfully provided some formatting shortcuts in a toolbar for anyone writing a reply but you don’t have any automatic way of adding hyperlinks and when I tried to add them manually all that happened was that the code was posted as normal text. I only managed to insert the hyperlinks properly when I went back to edit the comment I’d already posted.
#9 by Jessica on December 21, 2008 - 8:39 am
Laura,
I will try to fix the editing problem.
You’re right, there are lots of reviews. But the dominant conception of what the reviewer is doing is “reporting my feelings about a book.” (For example, in reply to Sarah’s Letter of Opinion on the Ethics of Reviewing at DA, Jane wrote: “I think that most people know that when they read a review, it truly is only one person’s subjective opinion”). That conception of reviewing is consistent with the idea that every book is as good as every other, once you leave the subjective point of view.
#10 by Nicola O. on December 21, 2008 - 3:14 pm
I don’t agree that every book is as good as every other, but it does sort of baffle me when I find one that I think is truly, truly BAD — not just “not my taste,” but badly written — and it has legions of fans.
#11 by Robin on December 22, 2008 - 3:05 pm
(For example, in reply to Sarah’s Letter of Opinion on the Ethics of Reviewing at DA, Jane wrote: “I think that most people know that when they read a review, it truly is only one person’s subjective opinion”). That conception of reviewing is consistent with the idea that every book is as good as every other, once you leave the subjective point of view.
I think there’s a difference between saying that every book is as good as another and acknowledging that valuation is largely subjective. For example, I believe that there are certain objective measures of craft we can apply to evaluating books, but the measure of how well a book worked for a particular reader is, IMO, purely subjective.
Still, I don’t know if that’s the same thing as positing an equivalence among all books, or whether it’s simply an acknowledgment that how well each of us likes a book cannot be objectively predicted. And that enjoying a book is not necessarily correlative to how *good* a book is. Because for me, at least there are more than a few books out there I’ve enjoyed even though I think they’re, well, bad.
I guess this opens up the question of how the process of evaluation does or does not set the objective value of books, as well as whether a book’s potential value to any particular reader suggests an equivalence of all books within a particular set to all readers.
#12 by Jessica on December 22, 2008 - 9:50 pm
@ Robin: You’re right, and is Laura, that it’s more complicated than my quick comment suggests. My own view is that people hold inconsistent positions on this.
Personally, I have been given some set downs on review blogs for attempting to (diplomatically, I thought) “challenge” review authors on what I considered to be objective components of their reviews. It’s clear that this is not usually welcome. It’s just not a part of this subculture, perhaps for good reason (everyone gets along better that way, for one thing).
#13 by RfP on December 23, 2008 - 4:26 am
Jessica, sorry if my comment was non-sequiturish. I should have grabbed a quote from CJ’s comment to clarify what sent me in the romance-versus-litrachur direction.
That’s odd; I’d have expected more give on the objective topics, as those can be argued without as quickly devolving into wishy-washily validating every possible opinion.
Though now I think of it, I’ve seen some rather truculent exchanges over whether or not a book is “well written”. I think those often arise from a confusion between enjoyment and technique, but whatever the reason, it seems to fit your experience.
#14 by Jill Sorenson on January 4, 2009 - 2:28 pm
Can I comment late? Just wanted to say I loved this post. And even the discussion after!
I found this site only recently (after the DA article) and am enjoying the entries/reviews. Thanks.
#15 by Jessica on January 4, 2009 - 4:59 pm
Jill Sorenson wrote:
Thanks! I like to think my best blogging accomplishment is attracting great commenters and inspiring a few of them (or irritating them enough to get them to) to take up the issues I raise.