Which one of these things is not like the other?

  1. Mystery
  2. Science Fiction
  3. Fantasy
  4. Historical
  5. Thriller
  6. Bodice-ripping romance

Why does “romance” always get an adjective (usually “bodice-ripper”) from the mainstream press when other genres don’t? Is there some other kind of romance that I don’t know about?

Edited to add: I am not trying to rehash old debates (asking why romances get no respect, etc.).  I am just making note of three things about the term that interest me:

1. Romance novels are always referred to using the same (derogatory) adjective.  I wonder, if the dismissive view of romance is as uniform as it appears to be, why is it necessary to use any adjective at all. Why not just say, for example, “Allende has not written literature, she has merely written a romance.”, where everyone understands romance to mean “crap”? What would “romance”, simpliciter, be to these critics?

2. The adjective “bodice-ripper” is used much more widely than I thought, not just to refer to melodramatically sexy elements of non-romance fiction, but to non-fiction, and even to non-books, i.e. things like dance,  art exhibits, and political imbroglios. I am merely pointing that out.

3. Point number 1 makes me think it’s possibly a good thing we still have an adjective, albeit a demeaning one, since it opens a space for folks like to Mary Bly (Eloisa James) [link at end] to distance themselves from “bodice rippers” while embracing the label “romance writer.”

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Here are some examples of what I mean:

In a New York times article last week about the growth of e-books,

At Harlequin Enterprises, the Toronto-based publisher of bodice-ripping romances, Malle Vallik, director for digital content and interactivity, said she expected sales of digital versions of the company’s books someday to match or potentially outstrip sales in print.

It looks like NYT writers have some trouble coming up with new terms, because here is a 1998 article on the same topic:

When [the e-reader] does arrive, it is expected to cost $1,400 to $1,600, a rich vessel indeed for bodice-ripping romance novels.

Here’s a review of a 1999 Isabel Allende book, Daughter of Fortune:

The resulting book reads like a bodice-ripper romance crossed with Judith Krantz, with plenty of feminist and multicultural seasoning thrown in to update the mix.

A 1995 article on Tom Clancy:

Mr. Clancy has become a literary factory churning out support-the-military thrillers with the formulaic regularity of bodice-ripping romances.

Here’s a wacky question: Why doesn’t it occur to this journalist write: “churning out support-the-military thrillers with the formulaic regularity of support-the-military thrillers.”?

“Bodice-ripper” is used in all kinds of reviews, not just reviews of books:

This is a quote from a Variety review of the 2008 Baz Luhrmann film Australia:

In order to make a Hollywood epic of big-budget scale and scope, Baz Luhrmann had to embellish that core, adding a western cattle drive, a bodice-ripping romance, wicked villains, an air battle and CG effects. How could any movie sustain all that?

This from a 1999 NYT review of a performance by the Neil Greenburg dance troupe:

Justine Lynch has a finicky sensuality straight out of a bodice-ripper romance novel.

Danielle Steel, who recently launched her own website, was referred to as a “Bodice-Ripping Blogger” in the New Yorker.

Sometimes “bodice-ripper” is used as a noun, to refer to the whole genre. I’ll be nice and call this synecdoche.

For example, in the following two reviews, authors are praised for avoiding the temptation to slide into bodice-ripperdom…

A NYT review of Anne Rice’s 2008 novel, Christ the Lord: the Road to Cana

“The Road to Cana” perches on the brink of blasphemy. But it succeeds in treating Yeshua’s humanity as an essential part of his divinity. That humanity nearly takes the form of bodice-ripping (“The man in me knew that we were alone, and the man in me knew that I could have this woman”), now that Ms. Rice’s confidence about her daunting subject allows some of her familiar proclivities to emerge.

A New Yorker review of 2007′s Loving Frank by Nancy Horan:

In her first novel, Horan, viewing the relationship from Mamah’s perspective, does well to avoid serving up a bodice-ripper for the smart set.

From William Safire in the NYT (1005):

These are not the bodice-rippers (novels with heaving covers) piled up in dumps (cardboard display cases) at the front of bookstores…

A NYT piece from 2004 on Inspirational Romance is titled:

“The New Bodice-Rippers: More God and Less Sex.”

A 2008 NYT article on Stephen King’s relationship with mainstream critics:

King has yet to write a bodice-ripper, but any novelist who trots out demons and dragons is asking for trouble with critics.

A 2004 NYT article on the desertion of women readers from romance:

Explosive growth in the market for women’s fiction, particularly in newer genres like chick lit and women’s thrillers, has been drawing readers away from traditional romance novels, those formulaic bodice-rippers stocked with hunky heroes and love-conquers-all endings.

I suppose I need some examples to prove the other half of my point, that when referencing other genres, no adjective is needed.

From NYT 2008 mystery review roundup:

Magdalen Nabb, who died last summer, left a final reminder of why she is irreplaceable among English-speaking novelists who write mysteries with Italian locales.

From a 2008 NYT article on Neil Gaiman:

Seems like a lot of people want Neil Gaiman, the fantasy novelist, short-story and comics writer, to give away his books.

From a 2008 NYT article on marketing video games with SFF novels (a topic you’d think would be ripe for some derogatory adjectives):

When PJ Haarsma wrote his first book, a science fiction novel for preteenagers, he didn’t think just about how to describe Orbis, the planetary system where the story takes place. He also thought about how it should look and feel in a video game.

A recent NYT appraisal of the late Arthur C. Clarke:

All science fiction does this to a certain extent, trying to imagine alternative universes in which one factor or another is slightly different.

A recent NYT review of Chalres Todd’s A Matter of Justice:

There’s no end to war in Charles Todd’s unnervingly beautiful historical novels, only the enduring legacy of suffering inherited by those who survive and remember.

None of us who read romance like the term “bodice-ripper”, mainly because it’s a bad use of synedoche: some romances may fit the bill, but most do not.  So it tars the whole genre with one brush. (This is one reason I personally hate the clinch covers, but that’s another topic.)

But, if that’s the case, why isn’t the adjective redundant? Hasn’t the point that romance is trash been hammered home so thoroughly and uniformly that a reviewer can now safely type “it’s a romance” and get his or her dismissive meaning across?

Here’s a strange idea: Perhaps the use of the term “bodice-ripper”, although we hate it for good reason, represents something positive, namely, a lack of closure on the question of whether there can be worthy instances of this genre. Perhaps it signals a discursive space where romance readers and writers can affirm that while there is, indeed, truly bad romance, this genre offers a range of quality, just like mystery, science fiction, and fantasy.

Further reading on this topic:

Kathrynn Dennis has a great article on the term at History Hoydens.

Read For Pleasure’s post on the tool “bodice ripper”.

Author Eloisa James/scholar Mary Bly’s 2005  NYT Op-ed.

A post by Laura vivanco at Teach Me Tonight on this topic.

And from Keira at Love RomancePassion.

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