When I started reading romance, I used to be very jarred by the keen senses of smell our heroes and heroines possess. Apparently, every lover has a bouquet, and our h/hs are always — always – connoisseurs. Like a Master of Wine, they can pick out different aromas and notes, hints of this or that. Over time, I have come to bracket my disbelief, understanding the important role of a unique set of smells to the development of the sexual relationship, and indeed to the full sensory experience romance novels provide. I now realize why our h/h absolutely never experience a sinus infection or bad allergies — they would not be able to recognize their lover. (Lusty Reader posted recently about a romance novel perfume stick for sale).
Some smells are overused (sandalwood, I’m smelling at you), and some are just lazy (“man”, “woman”. I’m waiting for the truly liberated romance h/h who thinks, “Hmmm. Smells like person!” Or even more inclusively, “Smells like living organic matter!”).
But here’s where I draw the line: the trend of h/h’s being able to smell psychic states. I don’t care how in love or turned on you are. You can not smell states of mind.
Some examples:* (*as per usual, these comments are not meant to imply anything about how much I enjoyed the books. In fact, I really enjoyed almost every book on this list.)
“He smelled, not altogether unpleasantly, of dried sweat, woodsmoke, horse, and fatigue.”
The Sharing Knife, Volume 1 Beguilement, Lois McMaster Bujod
“She walked toward him, and then he could smell her — smell the quiet intensity that always hung in the air around her.”
Hot Under Pressure, Kathleen O’Reilly
“You smell like … heat, Emma”
A Rake’s Guide to Pleasure, Victoria Dahl
“She smelled earthy, like a late summer rain in the forest. Oh, and she smelled really really pissed.”
Desire Unchained: A Demonica Novel, Larissa Ione
“How sweet her sister smelled, like violets and sunshine and wide-eyed naivete.”
Bound By Your Touch, Meredith Duran
“My God, what has he turned you into? I can smell the lust on you.”
Worth Any Price, Lisa Kleypas
“The air was marbled by smoke, and full of the smells of tension, excitement, and fear.”
Tempting Fortune, Jo Beverly
See how authors generally try to stick the non-smellable item in at the end? As if we won’t notice?
Nice try, but I am on to you.
In fairness, some of these are likely shorthand for a group of smellable things. For example, “lust” might = “sweat + sex secretions + beer + latex.”
And some might be metaphors — “the smell of fear” is certainly used across fiction and is not to be taken literally.
But how does fatigue or anger or naivete smell? At this point we’ve gone beyond a highly developed fifth sense and into a supernatural sixth one (I confess Meljean Brook’s Guardians series throws me for a loop every time “psychic scent” is used — and it’s used often – but I cut them some paranormal slack.)
Before concluding, I have to make note of one author who wins the Rebel Without a Smell award:
In On Wings Rising, Ann Somerville’s hero has this to think about his lover: “The Angel still stank of the metallic odour of blood, but under that, didn’t have any particular smell.”
I am not sure how this one got by the smell police, but for the sake of variety, I am glad it did.
Related posts:
- The Sweat Smell of Success Is it just me, or is there more and more sweat in romance novels? I mean this both in terms...
- The Black Dagger Scholarhood At Alpha Heroes Nicola O. has interviewed the two scholars who presented their analyses of JR Ward’s Black Dagger Brotherhood at the recent...
- Signs I was Destined to Become a Romance Reader Recently I rewatched a couple of beloved older movies through the lens of being a relatively new, but avid, romance...
- Top 10 Lies of the Romance Novel Hero and Heroine Lying to oneself is a special skill humans possess. I know this because it happens to be one of my...
- Reflections on Anah Crow’s Uneven and s/m in Romance and RL Here’s the first post in the Amazing Intellectual Journey, although you shouldn’t even bother to pack your lunch, because it’s...
- Feminist Critique of Romance: Ur Doin It Wrong *I couldn’t have written this post without the help of Laura Vivanco especially the background on Mills & boon, Emma...
#1 by Keira on August 13, 2009 - 9:34 am
Haha! You are so right about the “psychic scent.” Maybe the fatigued was like saying the person smelled like ’sleep’? A person can smell like sleep – musky, not quite stale but definitely not fresh (from a shower) which can be pleasurable/not-so-much depending, and heated flesh???
#2 by azteclady on August 13, 2009 - 9:39 am
How I love thee, Jessica! Let me count the ways…
Thank you–laughter goes great with coffee!
#3 by Tumperkin on August 13, 2009 - 9:53 am
I seem to recall that when I blogged about my own personal irritation with the romance-smell-obsession (the ability of the protaganists to recognise the most obscure of scents) various commenters assured me that they knew precisely what sandalwood and bergamot smelled like.
I do think smell is a really useful sense to evoke in writing and always cheer when an author refers to things I *get* straightaway (coffee, wet dog, sun cream etc.) rather than an ingredient in a shower gel (or even more absurdly -as you’ve said – a mental state).
And while I’m on the subject, it’s a shame that so much romance is so sanitised. I realise that a lot of readers don’t want to face up to the reality of what people smell like when they’re having sex (hint: it’s not ‘honey’ or ’sweet cream’) but some of us would like a more authentic reading experience.
#4 by MsMoonlight (Elizabeth Jules Mason) on August 13, 2009 - 11:56 am
Fun post! Its the chemicals released from powerful emotions – like animals can “smell fear”. I only read one of the books you mentioned and he was a demon- most of these paranormal characters take on animalistic abilities.
While I enjoy it to some degree, it can be way over done as some of your examples clearly point out.
On the point of scents, what really gets me are all these men heroes who actually know the difference between what a rose smells like from violet to lavendar! Where’d the learn all that and why hasn’t any of the men I dated known that stuff?
MsM
#5 by Meri on August 13, 2009 - 11:57 am
The smell description, at least in my reading (mostly hitoricals) seems to come in threes: horse/leather/sandalwood/citrus are generally the first two, followed by “something that was uniquely him”. I will never understand how after very little time with the hero, the (virginal) heroine can so easily identify what is “uniquely him”.
Tumperkin, while I agree there is a lot of silliness in romance descriptions, I’ll admit that there is onyl so much reality I can take. I don’t want it too sanitized, but I’d rather not go too far in the other direction, either.
I think I know what bergamot smells like. No idea about sandalwood.
#6 by Lusty Reader on August 13, 2009 - 12:13 pm
thanks for the linkage! and i got the giggles over this part, “(sandalwood, I’m smelling at you)”
in addition to the scent of psychic states (alliteration!) what about the eyes taking on characterization?
like dark green when angry, emerald when turned on, hazel when sad….argh it annoys me so much! mutating eyes in a non-paranormal H/H is NOT sexy!!!
#7 by Jessica on August 13, 2009 - 12:43 pm
Lusty Reader wrote:
in addition to the scent of psychic states (alliteration!) what about the eyes taking on characterization?
like dark green when angry, emerald when turned on, hazel when sad….argh it annoys me so much! mutating eyes in a non-paranormal H/H is NOT sexy!!!
I almost posted on this one — I looked into it, and it turns out that pupils enlarge when aroused, so eyes can look darker in that sense. I have hazel eyes, and they can look green, blue or brown depending on what I’m wearing or my makeup (but NOT how I’m feeling, thank god. I like my windows to the soul to have curtains, thank you.) But the color palettes of h/h’s eyes in romance, and the connection to their feelings? Way OTT.
#8 by BevBB on August 13, 2009 - 1:04 pm
MsMoonlight (Elizabeth Jules Mason) wrote:
Yeah, animals sensing some emotional states was my first thought. Is it way overdone in non-supernatural romances? Probably at times. But then again, we’re animals, too, and there’s no getting away from some of the imagery used in many regular romances along that either.
I suppose it would depend on what they’ve been exposed to over the years. My ex was raised on a farm and is probably better at identifying most scents from nature than I am. I could easily see someone from a period of time where scent were used heavily to cover odor being able to identify various individual ones by name. Not unlike how we can identify perfume brands and common household scents nowadays.
So, I guess, in a way, is this kind of use of scents part and parcel of setting the mood of time periods in the reader’s head? That’s not saying it can’t be overdone, just that it’s all part of a sensual experience?
Unless of course one has allergies. You know I seem to remember a historical with a herione who had allergies. Always sneezing. Who was that author?
#9 by Victoria Janssen on August 13, 2009 - 3:33 pm
I was most amused by this post.
#10 by Ann Somerville on August 13, 2009 - 3:34 pm
“I am not sure how this one got by the smell police, but for the sake of variety, I am glad it did.”
Of all the things to be praised for
And you know, since the Angels are covered in *fur*, live in communal tents around wood fires and stuff, they probably *do* have a distinctive odour. But just not Smellorama!
#11 by Ann Somerville on August 13, 2009 - 3:35 pm
@ Keira:
Maybe they smelled like they hadn’t bathed in a week. You know, because they were too tired to wash.
#12 by willaful on August 13, 2009 - 3:46 pm
In The Boyfriend List, an aspiring romance author is instructed to include smells. Apparently they are obligatory.
#13 by heidenkind on August 13, 2009 - 6:20 pm
The Rebel without a Smell–lulz I wonder if I’ve ever smelled pissed? Because that would be hi. larious.
The smell thing really annoys me in romances. For one thing, if I can smell a guy THAT clearly, it’s usually a bad thing. For another thing, I just don’t find the way most writers talk about smell to be romantic. It’s not romantic to smell like lust, okay??? It’s grossss. Yes, smell may be an important part of sexual attraction IRL (and I can’t help but notice that all these smells in romance novels started popping up after the study about scent and sexual attraction was on TV), but that doesn’t mean I want to read about it in a romance novel.
Furthermore, considering how most romance writers seem to copy what their h/h smells like, I don’t think any of them have ever actually consciously noticed what someone smelled like and been attracted to them.
Have you ever read Perfume, where a guy tries to literally capture the scent of certain women? Not that that book has anything to do with scent in romance novels, of course….
#14 by corina on August 14, 2009 - 3:18 am
Yes, thank you for pointing that out. I personally HATE that smell and every time it’s mentioned, I go “EW.” not “Ooh.” But that’s just me.
Fun post, Jessica.
#15 by bookwormom on August 14, 2009 - 11:42 am
Horses have a distinct smell, as does leather. So does woodsmoke & all cling to clothes. Many gardeners regardless of gender know the difference between lilac & roses & lavender. Sandalwood is a unique & memorable smell.
Scent, done in the right way, can bring back powerful memories. However, stuff like bergamot & verbena? No idea. I know verbena is supposed to smell like lemons, but other than that.. Smelling “earthy” to me implies lack of cleanliness. Maybe these are supposed to be shorthand for invoking an emotion?
As for people smelling emotions, that’s hooey- unless of course it’s paranormal & they’re supposed to be part ‘animal’??
LOL
~Amanda
#16 by Carolyn Crane on August 14, 2009 - 3:09 pm
Great post!!
Yes, these heroes and heroines could have second jobs in the perfumeries of Paris. And the emotions smell, I feel like it’s a shorthand, but it does take me out of the dream a bit.
I’m also with Lusty Reader on the eyes. It’s more than shifting pupils – I see it abused all the time, with really specific emotions like jealousy and possessiveness seemingly attributed to eyeballs. I just don’t know what that is.
Can I also say here that I have never seen violet eyes, and do not believe they exist, except in My Little Pony dolls, and also, I’m glad for the absence of body spray scents in heroes.
#17 by Laura Vivanco on August 14, 2009 - 6:28 pm
That reminded me of John Masefield’s poem which begins like this:
The next time a character smells of sandalwood and tastes of wine I’ll be convinced they’re a “barque of frailty”
I wonder if that’s most likely to happen in a zombie romance.
I’m not so sure about that. People do start to sweat when they feel frightened:
- – - – - – - – - – -
I agree with Tumperkin again. I’m also fed up with the number of people who, on threads about cleanliness in romance, insist that unshaven legs (on women) are disgusting/unclean. In addition, even though I’d noticed that mouths tend to smell a little bit stale first thing in the morning, I didn’t have a concept of “morning breath” until I started reading US romance blogs, and I certainly didn’t realise it was supposed to be a problem which is so vile it stops people finding each other attractive “the morning after.”
It does depend on how hot it is, how much exercise the person has been taking, and whether they keep the smelliest parts of their body washed, but people don’t all automatically smell rank just because they haven’t showered/had a bath for a while.
All in all, the impression I get from romances and the threads about smells in romances is that men are occasionally allowed to smell of sweat and have body hair, but women should not. Heroines may sweat, but judging by the examples Tumperkin gave in another post here, the heroes sweat more, and smell more, whereas perhaps heroine-sweat just glistens a bit during/after she’s had sex and adds to the generally high humidity level. In general, outside sex scenes, my impression is that even a hero’s sweat tends to be referred to euphemistically e.g., as Meri mentioned, a smell that “was uniquely his.”
#18 by willaful on August 14, 2009 - 10:01 pm
Laura Vivanco
I’m from the US, so I could describe to you the exact commercial that perpetuated that particular idea. :- I always find it kind of ridiculous, myself.
#19 by Keira on August 14, 2009 - 11:34 pm
Jessica wrote:
Now that’s a great future post title.
#20 by medumb on August 15, 2009 - 12:50 am
So glad I am not the only one with that annoyance.
Though maybe it is more the women never caught out with the stubble..
Another being the Virgins or determinedly single ladies who have brazillians??
WTF is with that??
Sorry I got slightly off topic there.
Has someone brought up the “smells like sunshine” one?
What does sunshine smell like?
#21 by BevBB on August 15, 2009 - 12:09 pm
medumb wrote:
The only thing I can figure is that smell of laundry dried on a clothesline in the sun … does this mean the person is being compared to, um, laundry?
#22 by Nicola O. on August 16, 2009 - 8:33 pm
I think the smell thing is about like everything in romance. Done properly, it can add to the experience. Done cheesily (note: neither the hero nor the heroine should ever smell like cheese), it’s eminently mockable.
And really, if you’re falling in love with a guy, you should like the way he smells. If the smell is off-putting, you know you’ve got a villain in the scene.
But particularly in historical romances, scents like lavender, rose, verbena, and bergamot were used extensively to keep clothing and stored items and even the air smelling nicer. No Febreze in those days.
So I’m defending the “smells like” scene. But it’s sensual, so just like the sex scenes, verrrry easy to go wrong.
Factoid of the day: bergamot is the stuff that makes Earl Grey tea different from regular tea.
#23 by Kate Diamond on August 18, 2009 - 10:19 am
Very amusing.
And I like the smell of laundry, but I don’t think it’s a very “sexy” scent. Very homey, though.
Pingback: Bev’s Books » Blog Archive » Three books and a giggle
#24 by Daisy on August 18, 2009 - 7:59 pm
medumb wrote:
This is something I say to my boys when they come home from the pool – it is the combined scent of sunscreen and chlorine, which evokes a reminder of my own childhood days spent hanging out at the pool. Summer and sunshine – what a lovely smell.
As for scents in a romance novel – at times they are well thought out and evoke a wonderful smile or memory that triggers that smell. At other times, you think whaaaat???? Like most of the others who posted, I wonder about the use of some emotions as smells. Of course saying “he smelled like lust” brings to mind the scent of sex and good or bad, you know what the author is trying to paint a picture of.
Some invoked smells though make me “ew” – roses for instance make me think of old ladies and lavender is too musty for my taste. Sandlewood though – yum, kind of leathery, kind of musky, kind of smoky, definitely a turn on for me.
I don’t mind the use of smells to create a scene, as long as they are not too obscure so as to make you wonder what exactly that smells like. Or to out there and it makes you think someone needs to bathe – quickly. Whoo ha’s smelling like peaches? Just what has our heroine been up to?
Pingback: Jill Sorenson - Blog