Point/Counterpoint: Respect, Romance, and Academic Credentials

Feb 23 2011 Published by under Genre musings

A guest post by Janet (@Janetnorcal), an experienced romance reader very knowledgeable about Regency romance in particular, who posts often at Book Lovers Resource and Keira (@KeiraSoleore, whose avatar never ever fails to make me grin), an aspiring romance author who blogs at her own Cogitations and Meditations.

How the point-counterpoint blog got started: Janet Webb sent Keira Soleore a Twitter Direct Message:

Direct message from Janet Webb: Friday, February 11, 2011 5:50:00 PM

I know [..] doesn’t purport to speak for anyone but don’t you occasionally get tired of articles focusing on Ivy league/Rom writer? I do.

* *

Direct message from Keira Soleore: Friday, February 11, 2011 5:55:09 PM

The reason so much media attention is on Ivy Leaguers is because everyone used to think romance writers & readers were losers…

…The fact that smart accomplished women are doing it gives it legitimacy. Akin to academic scholars lending it legitimacy.

* *

From: Janet Webb
Sent: Friday, February 11, 2011 6:22 PM
To: Keira Soleore
Subject: We should do a point/counterpoint blog on this …

Oh, I don’t believe that although I think that the ignorant outside world believes that. I think I must have missed all of the disdain — or ignored it. I started with Georgette Heyer, who was beloved by men and women alike: there was no embarrassment involved in loving her books. I don’t think that smart accomplished women writing romance gives it legitimacy, nor do I think that academic scholars writing about it lend it legitimacy. I think the worth of the books themselves gives it legitimacy. Like “Sunshine and Shadow” by Laura & Tom Curtis. I could name a million more. Don’t misunderstand me: I love smart books by anyone. And I love academic writing about the genre that interests me most — I just don’t think it makes it legitimate.

I totally understand journalists going for the obvious story — Ivy League prof writes Romance. But that’s because they aren’t prepared to dig a tad deeper …

Cheers!

* *
From: Keira Soleore
To: Janet Webb
Sent: Tue, February 15, 2011 1:17:55 PM
Subject: RE: We should do a point/counterpoint blog on this …

See, we’re romance readers. We don’t feel any disdain. But I have only to look at the wonderful people I know who are outside the romance reading community to know the disdain and disregard they hold for romance novels. They do believe, unfairly so and without direct actual knowledge, that those are dirty books with poor writing; in other words “salacious” is the only way to describe them. Those lurid covers do not help at all!!!!!!!!

So that’s been my experience with romance’s reputation. Almost everyone I speak to in Romancelandia says similar things. So, yes indeed, the perception of romance in the larger world is more like “nudge-nudge-wink-wink porn for women” written by chubby, plain, not-so-bright sex-starved women. Do I agree with this? A thousand times no. But non-romance readers do believe this. The books are not getting the respect they deserve all by themselves.

That is why highly educated, successful women writing romance are needed to make a huge impact on romance’s perception. There is no one, not a single person, who has done more in this fashion than Nora Roberts. She has educated the media and the reading public to some extent. Without Nora, we wouldn’t even be where we are today.

And we have leagues to go. You don’t have to convince me, nor I you. We already know and respect the genre. We want wider acceptance and respect. That is why folks like Eloisa James, Julia Quinn, Lauren Willig, Cara Elliott, etc. are so important. Similarly, college courses offered in Princeton and other universities on popular romance give it further legitimacy for the world at large.

“I totally understand journalists going for the obvious story — Ivy League prof writes Romance. But that’s because they aren’t prepared to dig a tad deeper … “
>> I’m not sure I understand. Dig deeper for what?

Keira

* *

From: Janet Webb
Sent: Tuesday, February 15, 2011 2:40 PM
To: Keira Soleore
Subject: Re: We should do a point/counterpoint blog on this …

I’ll have to think about what you’ve said. It’s hard for me not to think that courses about Romance are to Literature as Rocks for Jocks are to Geology (see what I mean — outside world looking in). You’ll never believe what my mum just said about Betty Neels. That she quite enjoyed it and that it would make good hospital reading. Do you think that was because of the lack of Brighton? I know she really didn’t like Mary Balogh — because as a devotee of Austen and Heyer, she just kept seeing the problems and inaccuracies.

And you see, I don’t think I agree that professors who teach on the subject of the genre and smart women writers are changing the face of the genre and how it’s regarded. Does romance command more respect today? Just a few months ago the NY Times wrote a very tongue-in-cheek article about e-books and romance. I wasn’t feeling the respect.

Nora Roberts has a high school education — she’s as smart as beans and a fantastic writer and it’s the force of her books that command respect. I wouldn’t think she would even want that mantle. To me she is a butt to the seat writer who has a few close female writer pals but who speaks to the world — like she actually sponsors a local baseball team! She’s not cliquey, she’s not gossipy, she’s not whingey, she’s straightforward and she’s absolutely never complains, never explains. I could not imagine her in a million years complaining to a magazine, online or paper, about a review that she was unhappy with. She is so different in the way she interacts with the world compared to almost every romance writer I know. Now maybe I don’t know enough romance writers — I can definitely think of a few that are following in Nora’s footsteps.

To be continued … let’s keep the conversation going!

* *

From: Keira Soleore
To: Janet Webb
Sent: Sun, February 20, 2011 3:07:47 PM
Subject: RE: We should do a point/counterpoint blog on this …

The publishing industry is doing nothing to get romance noticed. Now, while the comments are still snide, at least romance is getting media coverage. Quite a bit of it as compared with before, because romance has shown itself to be a publishing phenomenon and there’s so much online conversation happened about it. Before, it was discarded as frivolous and not worthy of any ink in the media.

Despite being a publishing phenomenon, that is not what will sustain the upward swing of interest and respect towards the genre. Remember people have to read the books in order to be able to possibly respect them. Articles by respected individuals, university courses, etc. are standard guidelines of legitimacy. Application of those to the genre is a way to raise its profile. (I really wish publishers would lose those covers.)

Popular Literature is treated like that by the Literature Department. All genre literature is looked down upon. But the more university students clamor for those classes and the more teachers offer them, the more accepted the genre becomes. Like pop culture was accepted, so will romance.

Nora is all you’ve said and more. She took on the mantle of becoming the voice of romance for many years. Now that there are the Smart Bitches and many other bloggers, she’s stepped back from it all. Still when important stuff comes up, she’s there commenting, writing memos, being interviewed, etc.

Janet, who do you think is following in Nora’s footsteps?

Keira

**

Ok, folks, can you answer Keira’s question? Any thoughts?

43 responses so far

Monday Morning Stepback: Marketing, Blogs, Freedom, Apple

Apr 19 2010 Published by under Monday Morning Stepback

The weekly links, opinion, and personal updates post

1. Links of Interest

Fascinating discussion of steampunk over at The Book Smugglers led by guest poster and author Meljean Brook.

Laura Vivanco at Teach Me Tonight is asking What is at the Core of the Genre? Is it reproduction (both literal and of the existing social order)? Is it comedy (smoothing a transition to a new social order)? Is it the transformative value of love? Go read and share your view.

As most of you know by now, Rachel Potter has resigned from All About Romance, due to a “reading funk”. I made a donation to my local Rape Response Services to mark the occasion. For those who are fretting that we have lost a rare and precious anti-women perspective on sexual assault, this post detailing the ways that the discourse of victim-blaming for sexual assault dominates speech might be soothing.

[Updated to add: The Sexist at Washington City Paper cites the Rachel Potter debacle.]

An interesting project at Harvard, Reading: Harvard Views of Readers, Readership and Reading History:

an online exploration of the intellectual, cultural, and political history of reading as reflected in the historical holdings of the Harvard Libraries. For Internet users worldwide, Reading provides unparalleled digital access to a significant selection of unique source materials. … [including] historical textbooks that document the principles, and some of the biases, in reading instruction from the 18th to the early 20th centuries

Over at Risky Regencies, Janet Mullany is talking about being Jewish during the Regency:

Other than Heyer’s casual, racist (but probably historically accurate) references to moneylenders and Nita Abram’s brilliant Courier Series about an Anglo-Jewish family during the Napoleonic wars, I didn’t know much about the Jewish population of Regency London. I still don’t. But I’ll share what I have.

Historical romance authors Lauren Willig and Cara Elliott, who are team teaching a course on romance fiction at Yale, were guests at The Ruby Slippered Sisterhood, and some of their students chimed in. Great discussion.

Why Crime Novelists Don’t Get Women by Christopher Rice, over at the Daily Beast (Hat tip Book Ninja)

Most women in crime novels and thrillers are such terrible clichés, says novelist Christopher Rice. He identifies the four most common and ridiculous ones—and says writers should stop being so lazy.

Over at Unusual Historicals, author Lorelei Brown is talking about Penny Dreadfuls, “a whole genre of fiction decried as trash and pilloried as not worth the time it took to read it.”

2. Books, Blogs and Marketing

Rebecca at the Book Lady’s Blog is meditating On Books, Blogs, and Marketing.

It seems that, for a certain subset of the blogging community, “marketing” is a four-letter word, and the bloggers who eschew it are somehow more authentic or noble than those who embrace it. It also seems that many bloggers don’t really know what they’re talking about when they’re talking about marketing.

But marketing is not always about a product or service. It is not always about leading up to sales.

Marketing is about creating and affecting awareness, and it’s not just businesses who use marketing. Non-profit organizations, charities, schools, etc. all use marketing to make the public aware of them and to affect the public’s perception of them (hopefully in a positive direction) in order to gain support, funding, you know the drill.

And we, all of us who talk about and review books on our blogs, are engaged in marketing every single day.

And…

If you post about a book that even one person who reads your blog has not previously heard of, or if your review changes even one person’s mind about that book (making them either more or less inclined to read it), you are engaging in marketing.

if you use Twitter, Facebook, Ning, or any social networking site to discuss your blog or your book reviews, you are MARKETING your blog. Even if you just post links to your blog on that site or include your URL in your member profile, you are marketing your blog. When you comment on other blogs (an act that is likely to introduce others to you and your blog), you are marketing. It’s a passive form of marketing—allowing others to discover the link without your directing them to it—but it is still marketing.

I appreciate Rebecca’s effort to think about self-promotion, and have been a proponent of being more reflective about, and taking more responsibility for, our complicated overlapping relationships with people whose job it really is to market themselves or their products. I also agree with her that people who criticize bloggers merely for actively branding themselves or trying to grow or monetize their blogs need to get a life (she put it more diplomatically than that).

I have blogged on this topic before, and here’s what I wrote then:

Being a part of the promotional machine is not something only weak, bad, or dishonest book bloggers do. We all do it. Sure, from my point of view, I am merely talking about the books I read with other readers. But from industry’s point of view (and sometimes also from my own), the strength of my speech can be harnessed to achieve other effects. The fact that we don’t intend all the consequences of our actions doesn’t necessarily make us less responsible for them. If the social media experts are being totally upfront about using informal web 2.0 relationships to sell books, then I don’t see why we can’t also be honest about this aspect of book blogging, talk about it, and try to maximize benefits and minimize harms that may result from it.

But Rebecca’s use of the term “marketing” in this particular way is problematic for me. Either she is using the term “marketing” — which normally refers to conscious, planful efforts to bring buyers and sellers together to facilitate an exchange of goods or services — to describe so many activities that her use of it has little relation to the term as most people understand it, or she is mischaracterizing what many of us are doing in the book blogosphere.

To take the first option: is any attempt to create awareness of yourself in the public sphere really best described by the term “marketing”? When I am at a party and and introduce myself to a person I haven’t met, I am thereby creating awareness, but am I marketing? When I raise my voice to my unruly children in a Target parking lot (purely fictional, I assure you) and draw stares, I am creating awareness, but am I marketing? When I send an invitation to my son’s birthday party, I am not only deliberately creating awareness but actively encouraging participation in an event. But is this best described as “marketing”?

It’s counterintutive to broaden the definition so much. And I don’t think doing so will actually have the effect Rebecca seems to desire, which is to deflect criticism away from bloggers who really are trying to sell something, be it ad space or a book. Why not just admit that some bloggers, some of the time, are marketing (while they are doing other things, surely), and think about what specific issues that practice may raise?

More basically, we need to think about who is doing what, so we can get clear on how to assess it. There is a difference between what happens and what I do ( a difference between events and actions), and figuring out a person’s intentions is significant for deciding which among a set of plausible actions a behavior actually manifests.

Here’s a famous poetic version of this philosophical point (totally gratuitous, but I couldn’t resist):

Not Waving but Drowning

by Stevie Smith

Nobody heard him, the dead man,
But still he lay moaning:
I was much further out than you thought
And not waving but drowning.

Poor chap, he always loved larking
And now he’s dead
It must have been too cold for him his heart gave way,
They said.

Oh, no no no, it was too cold always
(Still the dead one lay moaning)
I was much too far out all my life
And not waving but drowning.

So, sure, when I Tweet or comment on your blog using my website URL, maybe that has the effect of increasing awareness of my blog (although even that’s a stretch), but since that’s not my intention in doing it, it is not, in a very important sense, what I am doing. Rather, I am having a discussion about a book or about something related to books.

Many of us are not actively trying to grow our blogs. We just want our little piece of the web where we can say what we want and chat with people about issues of mutual interest. My blog is a virtual version of me, a virtual version of what I do when I talk to people in real life. On Rebecca’s view, it looks like the only way I can avoid being engaged 100% of the time in marketing, in real life or on line, is to mask my identity, or constantly change it, so that no one comes to have an awareness of me as an individual.

The only thing marketers care about is meeting the needs of potential consumers, so they can attract more of them. And they don’t care necessarily who those consumers are. Like most bloggers, I choose my online interactions carefully.  My online interactions are about interpersonal connection. To go back to the birthday party example, I invite my son’s friends. I am not trying to pack my house with as many children as possible, regardless of who they are or their relationship with my child. Marketing may utilize interpersonal connection, but for an external end: selling something. In contrast, for most bloggers, the personal interaction is the inherently valuable good.

In sum, since, on any reasonable definition, marketing is not merely creating awareness, but creating awareness of a product or service one is trying to sell (and yes, nonprofits sell things), I am not (usually) marketing anything. To describe all of my internet activities  as “marketing” rather than as “participating in a conversation about fiction in a community of like minded readers” mischaracterizes what I am doing here in a way that I really don’t like, not only because it’s too simplistic to be right, but because it totally bypasses the inherent good of human interaction, and it implies that there is no noncommercial speech about anything that can be bought or sold, including books.

That may be a marketer’s dream, but it’s not my reality, at least not yet.

3. Personal/Apple

My favorite place to play is on the web on my Macbook. Unfortunately, most of my work is also on my MacBook. It’s not that I don’t get my work done, it’s that I am always multitasking — constantly responding to email dings, Tweetdeck sounds, “checking” something online that doesn’t really need to be checked right now, etc. It’s not conducive to peace of mind or productivity.

So I am happy to report that I just discovered a great, easy to use (unlike Leechblock, which was cumbersome) program for Macs or Windows systems, Freedom, which

locks you offline for a selected time interval – anywhere from 15 minutes to 8 hours. Freedom keeps you offline: To circumvent it, you need to reboot your computer. Rebooting is a hassle, so Freedom proves to a be a pretty effective way to help you concentrate and get work done.

There is a freeware version for Macs. The windows version is $10.

Speaking of my Macbook, a word about Apple: Did you see that Apple just changed its mind about allowing a Pulitzer Prize winning political cartoonist’s app? From The New York Times‘s coverage:

Political cartoons, it turns out, can violate Apple’s license agreement with developers, which states that applications, or “apps,” can be rejected if the content “may be found objectionable, for example, materials that may be considered obscene, pornographic or defamatory.”

Apparently over 5000 apps have been banned, mostly due to sexual content, which Steve Jobs is on record saying will not be allowed, but the cartoonist situation is not the first time (or the second or the …) Apple has banned political content. (On the other hand, a Mein Kampf app with a nice Swastika logo, and Playboy, passed muster on the first try!).

Think this has nothing to do with e-books? Check out this article at Teleread

It also leaves e-books, and iBooks, in a position of ambiguity. Is iBooks going to enforce similar family-friendly values, rejecting erotica novels and books with harsh language? Probably not.

We’ve already covered the rejection of an e-book app for making it possible to read the Project Gutenberg edition of the Kama Sutra, and the rejection of an appbook version of David Carnoy’s novel Knife Music because it contained use of the “f-word”.

I think these questions will only get thornier as our conception of a “book” morphs and changes, making it harder and harder to distinguish them from apps and from other electronic media. I’ve noticed that Apple, in sharp contrast to Amazon, gets a bit of a pass in the book blogosphere, but I think some of their business practices are well worth worrying about, and potentially much more problematic than DRM.

Finally, things are still very busy for me as I head into the final stretch of the academic year. Unless I am unusually productive, the forecast for blogging this week continues to be “occasional” and “light”. And that includes responding to comments on this post.

HAPPY WEEK!

14 responses so far

The Secret History of the Marketing of Lauren Willig’s Debut Novel

Mar 18 2010 Published by under Reviews

A discussion and review of Lauren Willig’s The Secret History of the Pink Carnation.

I listened to SH, narrated by Kate Reading, who did a wonderful job. I downloaded this last year, and it has languished in my audio TBR pile ever since. I was motivated to finally listen to it by Keishon’s TBR Challenge, one day late. Click on the cover below for excerpts, outtakes, and purchase information.

First a brief description and review (and, having only listened to the audio, I apologize in advance if I get any details wrong. I considered purchasing the ebook for my Kindle but at $9.99 — the paperback is $5.60 — I couldn’t justify the cost):

SH is a regency romance with a contemporary framing device. The contemporary story is a first person narration by Eloise, Harvard history dissertator in London researching the identity of the heroic Napoleon-foiler the Purple Gentian, and being prevented from getting the access she would like to the Selwick family papers by Colin, the distrusting, arrogant, but young and handsome, family descendant. When Eloise gets her hands on the diaries of Amy Balcourt, the narrative switches to third person omniscient, which was quite jarring for me, personally, as no diaries or letters would be written that way. The bulk of the novel follows the story of Amy, whose French father was killed by Napoleon’s men, and whose English mother died shortly thereafter of grief, as she travels from Shropshire England to France to join the league of the Purple Gentian and fight Napoleon herself. She meets and falls in love with the Purple Gentian, as well as meeting and being attracted Lord Richard Selwick, an Englishman abroad who appears to be happy working as a historian and collector of artifacts for Napeolon.

Here’s the thing about this book: you can’t take it even slightly seriously if you want to enjoy it. It is a comedy. You have a young English miss who decides to go to France and bring down Napoleon, who meets up with men in gardens at night, and who almost loses her virginity to a masked stranger in a rowboat on the Seine. You have a master spy whose major skill seems to be detecting the heroine’s identity by the sway of her hips, and you have a French inspector who says things like “so we meet again” and has a “super secret dungeon”, and a Napoleon whose office is left open for the seemingly constantly unchaperoned heroine to search in broad daylight.

The chick-lit framing story (complete with several references to shoe brands. I don’t have to name them for you, do I?) is minimal to the point of being nearly nonexistent, as is the plot of the historical bulk of the novel. Both Amy, the plucky, unexpectedly highly educated, impetuous, foot stamping, curl bouncing, tiny, beautiful heroine, and Richard, the sardonic, cool, handsome, intelligent super spy (we’ll have to take the author’s word on this, as our intrepid Amy scoops him nearly every turn, and her presence has the unfortunate effect of turning him into a giant raging hormone) who knows better than to deflower Amy, but can hardly help it.

I enjoyed this book for what it was: a historical romance with all of the usual tropes, played for comedy, and written in a style that mimics “better” fiction. You might be wondering, actually, what the author did with 464 pages and almost no plot? Well, she wrote. There are loads of comic asides and detailed descriptions, and careful scenes of dialogue, like this:

“I thought I’d find you here.”

“What?” Amy was jolted out of her blissful contemplation of Edouard’s letter, as a blue flounce brushed against her arm.

A basket of wildflowers on Jane’s arm testified to a walk along the grounds, but she bore no sign of outdoors exertion. No creases dared to settle in the folds of her muslin dress; her pale brown hair remained obediently coiled at the base of her neck; and even the loops of the bow holding her bonnet were remarkably even. Aside from a bit of windburn on her pale cheeks, she might have been sitting in the parlor all afternoon.

“Mama has been looking all over for you. She wants to know what you did with her skein of rose-pink embroidery silk.”

“What makes her think I have it? Besides,” Amy cut off what looked to be a highly logical response from Jane with a wave of Edouard’s letter, “who can think of embroidery silks when this just arrived?”

“A letter? Not another love poem from Derek?”

“Ugh!” Amy shuddered dramatically. “Really, Jane! What a vile thought! No,” she leaned forward, lowering her voice dramatically, “it’s a letter from Edouard.”

“Edward?” Jane, being Jane, automatically gave the name its English pronunciation. “So he has finally deigned to remember your existence after all these years?”

“Oh, Jane, don’t be harsh! He wants me to go live with him!”

Jane dropped her basket of flowers.

“You can’t be serious, Amy!”

“But I am! Isn’t it glorious!” Amy joined her cousin in gathering up scattered blooms, piling them willy-nilly back in the basket with more enthusiasm than grace.

I think you have to be in the mood for this kind of writing, because as a reader you are constantly being asked to pause in the action and smile or nod or appreciate the wittiness or nice turn of phrase, rather than just being invited to pass through them to get into the story. I did enjoy it overall — it was very very funny at points — especially on audio. But I have to confess that the style is not my thing, and so it’s a matter of subjective preference, and no reflection on the book, that I likely won’t continue with this series.

In preparation for writing this review, I looked at the Amazon reviews, and was shocked to see the vitriol with which the many people who gave SH a one or two star rating expressed their views of this book. How could so many of them be shocked to discover SH is a romance novel?

It turns out that the fact that this was a romance was not at the forefront of the marketing of the book, or it was, but there were other cues from other genres mixed in. First, the title and cover are not typical (no naming of a title, such as duke, no clinch, no bare skin). And it was released in hard back and trade paperback, not mass market.

How about the blurbs? Not that much to signal a romance. Eloisa James calls it a “delicious caper… a fascinating story”.

“This genre-bending read a dash of chick-lit with a historical twist has it all: romance, mystery, and adventure.” Meg Cabot, author of The Princess Diaries

“A historical novel with a modern twist” — Mina Ford

“A merry romp with never a dull moment” — Mary Balogh

The blurb doesn’t have the usual cues either (a focus on the hero and heroine and their conflict), although it is clear there is a “passionate romance” somewhere within the pages:

The Secret History of the Pink Carnation, a wildly imaginative and highly adventurous debut, opens with the story of a modern-day heroine but soon becomes a book within a book. Eloise Kelly settles in to read the secret history hoping to unmask the Pink Carnation’s identity, but before she can make this discovery, she uncovers a passionate romance within the pages of the secret history that almost threw off the course of world events. How did the Pink Carnation save England? What became of the Scarlet Pimpernel and the Purple Gentian? And will Eloise Kelly find a hero of her own?

Willig herself said in an article at MSNBC.com which pictures her at Harvard, where she was in law school when she wrote the book, “[SH] is sort of on that uneasy cusp between what you call a traditional romance novel and more mainstream historical fiction.”

And in the same article: “Laurie Chittenden, Willig’s editor at Dutton, said the novel is a unique marriage of ‘chick lit’ and serious fiction.”

In that article, and in many others at the time of the debut, and in the marketing of this book, Willig’s own educational background (graduate work in history at Harvard as well as a law degree) was a part of the package in selling the book as historical fiction.

I may be totally off base in this, but in my opinion, while the writing style was not typical of historical romance, the character, plot, situations, setting, sensuality level, and focus on romance situate this book 100% smack dab in the middle of the genre. To me, the difference was in the writing style.

If you took a passage like this:

A basket of wildflowers on Jane’s arm testified to a walk along the grounds, but she bore no sign of outdoors exertion. No creases dared to settle in the folds of her muslin dress; her pale brown hair remained obediently coiled at the base of her neck; and even the loops of the bow holding her bonnet were remarkably even. Aside from a bit of windburn on her pale cheeks, she might have been sitting in the parlor all afternoon.

And de-Williged it, it would read more like this:

Jane approached carrying a basket of wildflowers, looking her usual utterly composed self.

Because I happen to really like historical romance, I liked SH, but I think marketing this book as historical fiction backfired for at least some readers who have very negative opinions of romance and felt tricked into reading one.

Here’s a typical Amazon 1 or 2 star review:

I went in to reading the book expecting a tongue-in-cheek take on espionage during the French Revolution. Instead, I got a bodice-ripper.

And another:

The author sounds smart and interesting, to bad she’s using her skills to produce formulaic drivel. The historical background of this book is geared for the type of reader who only reads the first paragraph of any story in the newspaper.

A Goodreads review from 2006 is typical:

Perhaps my disappointment is my own fault. The jacket blurb is fabulous, the cover captivating, the premise intriguing. I waited weeks to have enough to time to curl up on the sofa and read this book. I made it to page 55 (at page 22 I decided to force myself to get to page 100-not going to happen though, I just can’t do it.).

I thought I was getting a fabulous historical novel, but it reads like every other Regency era romance out there

And people are still getting mad about it 5 years later. Here’s a GoodReads review from last month:

This book was crap. It was just complete and total crap. The thing that made me the most angry is that at the back of the book the author has a “historical note” where she talks about this garbage in light of its place in the “historical fiction” genre. Oh. My. Gosh. THERE WAS NOTHING HISTORICAL ABOUT IT! The Scarlet Letter is historical fiction. Cold Mountain is historical fiction. This, as I have already said, is crap. Mentioning Napoleon and the year 1803 does not make a book historical fiction. It makes it a crappy romance novel that mentions Napoleon and the year 1803.

If you look at blog reviews, many of them came from non-romance blogs, and many were quite critical on the same grounds. For example, seeFyrefly’s Book Blog for her (not vitriolic at all, but decidedly mixed) review and a list of other reviews.

I’m not shocked at how derogatory the reviewers were about the romance genre — that is old news. But it surprised me to take this little trip into the history of the series and see how SH was marketed.

I guess the publisher (Dutton, a division of Penguin, I think) knew what it was doing, because the sixth book in the series was just published this year and made the NYT extended bestseller list, and while there are far fewer reviews for later installments on Amazon.com, the average rating is higher (4 stars). I would be interested to know who the series’ core readers are, and whether it has attracted a lot of readers of historical fiction.

(PS. The title of this blog post is a joke, a play on the title of the book. I am under no illusion that I have “discovered” any kind of “secret” whatsoever!)

17 responses so far