Not that I would change the title, I do think we’re stuck with it and might as well reclaim it. Having a sense of humor about what you value helps more people engage it, whatever their final decision about the genre.

Who knew I was choosing a moniker for my blog with such inflammatory connotations. Sorry.

I thought about your blog, and I’m glad you posted.

Unless I totally misunderstand your blog, I actually view your use of the term as a re-appropriation and re-valuing of it. I think, since we aren’t getting rid of the term any time soon, we may as well try to broaden its meaning to lessen the sting.

But I really did not have a sense that it was still in use in the main stream media. And I certainly would not have guessed, as Jessica implies, credibly, that the use of the term points to a lesser evaluation of ‘modern romances’ than any other genre fiction, like fantasy. Hmm. I was under the impression that outlets like the NYT would put fantasy, male adventure books, and romance novels in the same basic heap.

Bodice Ripper for me has the same connotation as trashy novel, no better, no worse. And I imagine that it is a short hand for books with explicit sex, not that these reporters think that all these books still have no-then-yes sex in them. Of course, not being a reporter who has never read a romance novel, I really couldn’t say for certain.

Who knew I was choosing a moniker for my blog with such inflammatory connotations. Sorry.

Just to say, I have never met a housewife who had time for any of this sort of thing.

Me, neither, but the visual still persists. To some extent, so does the thinking. The bread-winner still might come home to a clean house and dinner and not know *how* or *when* that it was accomplished and because of that, s/he may not think it was anything at all.

But in my time as the minion of a financial planner, my boss always took great care to ask the man (usually rich, marrying a non-rich woman), to get estimates regarding what he would have to pay to replace what the stay-at-home mom does–chauffeuring, nannying, cooking, cleaning, on-call, 24/7–and figure HER life insurance payout to roughly 3 times that figure yearly. It’s a shock to the man.

And yet, the visual persists. Why? I do not know.

It’s still just a theory. I’ve done a bit more searching around in my files and it seems as though although I was right in thinking that the term came into use as a way to distinguish a particular type of story from other, related types, it probably wasn’t the older romances I was thinking of, although Peter Mann (writing in 1981) does mention male romance/adventure stories, so maybe I’m not completely wrong:

Some romances in the USA and the UK, especially some set in historical periods, have become near-pornography and are known colloquially in the book trade as the “muckies” or “bodice-rippers.” These stories clearly set out to titillate the reader and the use of rape, flagellation, and overt sadism is by no means uncommon. It is difficult to say if these novels are still really “romances” or whether they are a new female equivalent of the well-established men’s adventure story in which extra-marital sex and violence are major activities. (16)

Mann’s evidence would suggest that these new stories were given this designation because they were different from previous romances (as we’d understand the term) i.e. different from the Harlequin Mills & Boons being written at the time. But the comparison with male adventure stories might provide some evidence that a distinction was being drawn between male “romance” (i.e. adventure) and female romance (i.e. “bodice-rippers”).

Eike’s 1986 paper reinforces the impression that the adjective “bodice-ripper” was being used to distinguish these novels from other romances and that the level of violent sexuality was seen as the defining element of the “bodice ripper”:

Romance category fiction had become by the 1980s a hydra-headed genre with well-defined classifications by subject and length. [...]
1. Category romances – very short [...] sensual mode, i.e., kiss occurs on the last page.
2. Historical romances – medium length to long [...]; “bodice rippers”, although protests from readers have cut back on violence.
3. Contemporary romances – medium length; problem novels, i.e., something happens to first love or heroine meets two men both attractive and must decide; very sentimental; modern, realistic (?) characters.
4. Regency romances – short and medium length; novels of manners; witty and light; [...] emphasize repartee between hero and heroine rather than sexuality.
5. Romantic suspense/gothic – medium length; mystery and action with romance [...]
6. Teen romance – very short; written from view of 15-16 year old girl; subplot reflecting contemporary attitudes and themes; No sex.
7. Inspirational (Christian) romance (27-28)

Another academic writing about romances in the 1980s was John Markert. After describing Woodiwiss’s The Flame and the Flower he adds a footnote to the effect that “These books would be dubbed by feminist scholars and the popular press, ‘horny hystericals’ or ‘bodice rippers’ because the heroine often had her bodice ripped off. I have chosen sensual historicals as a more neutral term” (79). This again reveals that a need was felt for some kind of adjective to distinguish these sexier books from others.

* Eike, Ann M. “An Investigation of the Market for Paperback Romance Novels.” Journal of Cultural Economics 10:1 (1986): 25-36.
* Mann, Peter H. “The Romantic Novel and its Readers.” Journal of Popular Culture 15.1 (1981): 9-18.
* Markert, John. “Romance Publishing and the Production of Culture.” Poetics 14.1-2 (1985): 69-93.

I suspect that when the phrase “bodice-ripper” first came into use to describe what we’re now calling “popular” or “modern” romance, it probably was a way to distinguish these romances from the many older forms. After all, the original “bodice-rippers” were historicals, like Scott’s novels, but what distinguished them from other, earlier types of romances, was the explicit sexual details they contained about the physical relationship between the central characters, rather than being as adventure orientated as some of the older books subtitled “a romance.”

That’s a very compelling explanation. Thank you!

MoJo wrote:

The term “soap opera” in context with a housewife is a phrase that evokes the visual of an overweight woman in a muumuu chomping bon bons and doing nothing productive (or having nothing productive to do) while her husband “goes to the office” and brings home the bacon.

Just to say, I have never met a housewife who had time for any of this sort of thing.

Those are visual images of the women who consume them, not descriptors of what the product is. Its use says, “I’m not one of THOSE women.”

I agree, and I agree that it’s a class issue as well: look at where Harlequins are advertised and available … not exactly hangouts of the rich and famous. but I still wonder why the adjective is in such wide use.

Well, at least this writer is consistent with his redundancies.

I have nothing academic to back up my opinion, but it seems to me that the “bodice-ripper” terminology is reinforced by the typical cover art, which still very commonly portrays a couple in a clinch, her head thrown back, and her gown on the verge of a wardrobe malfunction, whether there is any actual ripping of anything contained in the verbiage of the book.

I also think that readers have to get over feeling embarrassed and defensive about romance. We (as a whole) bear some responsibility in the downrating of romance because we participate in it — see the funny-cuz-it’s-true romance apologia scale at Dear Author. I’ve included a link to my own obligatory “romance gets no respect” post.

The term “soap opera” in context with a housewife is a phrase that evokes the visual of an overweight woman in a muumuu chomping bon bons and doing nothing productive (or having nothing productive to do) while her husband “goes to the office” and brings home the bacon.

Same, The Enquirer.

Same, “bodice ripper.”

Those are visual images of the women who consume them, not descriptors of what the product is. Its use says, “I’m not one of THOSE women.” I would consider it a class thing, a very country club attitude.

That said, I posted on this topic. I pretty much can’t be bothered to get my panties in a wad because (1) romance is the only thing holding up publishing right now, (2) if people are reading it and enjoying it, that’s what most writers want more than just about anything except financial independence, and (3) the people who aren’t one of THOSE women don’t know what they’re missing. Their loss.