Is this really what you want in a man?
Guilty not-so-secret confession: I love romance novels. I started reading them as a boy, when they were my only outlet to secretly explore certain things that confused the hell out of me. As an adult I have a little-indulged soft spot for romance, and adore a smart, engaging romance novel with a good mixture of conflict, wit, heart-warming moments, and of course the steamy pages that make romance novels what they are. In my later years I’ve grown a bit more discerning about what makes it onto my shelf of favorites, though; it’s not enough for the books to have lavish descriptions of period dress and a swarthy, broad-shouldered, swoon-worthy hero. I need characters I like, relationships I can understand, love scenes that don’t make me snortgiggle at the euphemisms (or if they do, it’s with that sort of charming self-awareness that many exhibit), and plots that won’t unravel with the simple question of, “Well, why didn’t you just tell him that like a normal person would, saving this entire intricate mess from happening?”
So lately I’ve been rereading some old favorites, as well as exploring a few new titles from the authors of said favorites. Some are modern, some are historical, some are the classic bodice-rippers, but in a large number of them I’m noticing a disturbing trend:
Controlling, domineering, irrational men with very few redeeming traits. They’re insensitive, bullheaded, temperamental, impossible to talk to with any level of honesty, misogynistic, arrogant to the point of self-delusion, sadistic, prone to using physical force to get their way, borderline (and often outright) cruel, difficult to reason with once they’ve made a conclusion, and generally in some position of authority over the heroine’s life and well-being – whether placed there by others, rank, an unfortunate and perilous situation, or themselves. These traits, while superficially infuriating to the heroine, in the end only serve to endear him to her as signs of what a man he is, a true man’s man, an uncompromising force of nature who will protect her and eventually give her many fat babies. And naturally his flaws are forgivable because he’s handsome as the devil and the most amazing lover on earth, and he knows it.
I get the lesson: love isn’t perfect, but it can pave the way for accepting a few character flaws in your mate. And I’m aware that all these traits can exist to some measure in real men, in a variety of concentrations and combinations. And I’m aware that many women (and men) have different tastes in what makes a man attractive. But seeing all these traits combined to such extremes that they make an unappealing caricature of a dominating man-child, I have to ask…
Is this really what women want in a fantasy man?
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There are two explanations I’ve considered.
The first is the classic assertion that fantasies are just that–fantasies. Simulations. Dominating cruel lovers are the same as or similar to the handsome “dangerous” man that one idolizes from afar or the femme fetale, the relationship equivalent to going skydiving even though you’d never jump off a building for real.
The second more disturbing conclusion is that the target audience for the book (and possibly the author) are those so used to abusive relationships that they can’t imagine anything else, or think anything else is sufficiently “realistic.” That the rationalization you’ve presented is a rationalization they’ve honestly internalized out of necessity.
I was thinking that, with the fantasy aspect. The majority of readers probably find some aspect of the fantasy appealing, if not the man himself; he’s just a placeholder in a time period, way of life, and intensity of emotion that’s attractive but unattainable. One of those things where there might only be one part of the fantasy that truly draws the reader, or there might be many, but they’re enough to minimize the unpleasant aspects of the abusive relationships portrayed.
Though I’m sure that there are some people for whom these kind of relationships are normal. Which really saddens me.
Because this is your special writerly blog of professionalism, I shall be delicate.
Romance heroines are retarded. Seriously. They were all ALL abused in some way in their childhood (no, really, it’s in the backstory, I defy you to find one without it) that made their brains stupid. So when they meet this wonderful guy of awesome who can perform cunnilingus like a lesbian and last for hours, who just happens to want to be in charge of their entire lives, they become overcome with desire that gets in the good way of whatever good sense may have survived their childhood.
You know the stories with women who get angry and upset at the men trying to run their lives “for their own good/protection/fun” but can’t seem to form a coherent argument because they’re too busy tearing their own clothes off? “Overcome with desire” or something insipid and ridiculous.
And I LIKE romance. Just not when the heroines are wet blankets and the heroes are basicaly muscular women with penises.
Ahem. I’ll flee your blog before I barf up my disgust all over it.
Also. I type faster than my brain processes information. Hence my typos of fail.
~goes away now~
Sweetheart, if that’s your idea of being delicate…~dies~
You should read the one I just finished. Throughout the whole thing the hero and heroine were snarling at each other, and not in the “sexy passionate tension” way. They were completely incapable of communicating with each other, conversations veering all over the place as if the correct answer to “Why won’t you let me go?” is “There will be more cheese on these parsnips by my command, set sail ho jiffy yay!” The only time they didn’t fight was in bed. I’ve seen stories where the lovers are portrayed always locking horns, but with deep affection – part of the mutual understanding of their relationship. There was no mutual understanding here at all, no reason why they fell in love other than looks and mediocre sex (seriously, show me why it’s mindblowing, don’t just tell me it’s so so so so amazing), and honestly no reason to like the characters. The guy was an erratic, irrational jackass who rode the bipolar switch like it was his buff Latin lover, constantly switching between concern, mental ridicule of the woman as a fool who needed her men to manipulate her into doing what’s best for her, tenderness and passion, and raging temperamental fits. These shifts from hot to cold were always signified by him speaking “harshly,” and tended to come out of nowhere like a sudden squall at sea (fitting when he’s an omg noble lord sea captain rugged salty ohhhhhh his eyes SWOON tell me how to order my life now, captain).
And the woman? Had no redeeming traits at all. She really was the annoying, irrational, brainless fool he painted her as, who thought she knew everything but was constantly doing something stupid, fighting to have her own way, coming up with the most daft ideas ever, and drawing ridiculous conclusions about people based on nothing at all. She did just what you said: demanding independence while yanking her clothes off, and doing everything to jeopardize her own safety in the process. And every time the hero did something she didn’t approve of, she assumed he did it to defend her honor or to try to win her over. I think the only thing I liked about him was how quick he was to bluntly, honestly tell her, “Um…no. There’s shit going down, babycakes, and I need to handle stuff. Not everything’s about you.” Not that she believed him. And she acted like she was so righteous in everything. Her old, dirty clothes were taken away to be washed while she dressed in fine clothing he gave her, and she went into a tizzy about how much he’s taken from her, the injustice of it all, blah blah. Oi.
She generally had to be smacked unconscious and carried off to stop her from doing something dumb. So the right way to treat a woman, I know. Yes, it’s period fic, but c’mon, this is for the modern reader.
I’ve read stories where the heroine is betrayed as naive, willful, kind of stupid, even. But she’s likable, she has spirit and personality and isn’t just some impossible witch. And she generally learns over the course of the story, growing wiser, shrewder, coming to understand things she didn’t before, sometimes learned by hard life lessons, sometimes shown to her by the ever-so-dashing male lead. That I don’t mind. Flawed characters are fun, easy to relate to. But this shrew…oi.
And this is from a very famous romance author. I love my romance novels, I do. But the bad ones just make me want to throw things.
……
Amanda? Oh, Amanda.
I need to give you a late Christmas present.
I think this book is coming your way. ~innocent smile~
Wow. So interesting to get a gay man’s perspective on the heroes in romance novels. I feel myself maturing by the moment here.
The only romance novels I’ve ever read are Diana Gabaldon’s. (Read ‘em? Talk about a yummy hero! And the heroine is no wuss either.) I was in a long abusive relationship in college and the guy was just like the heroes you detest. When people asked why I loved him, I said, “Um…” And that was it. I couldn’t even make up a reason. I knew he was a jerk (using nice words for a stranger’s blog), but I thought, “He loves me, though, so that makes me special, right? And if I’m really as awful as he says I am, I should be grateful to have him!” I think that’s what some of the thinking is in this fascination (some) readers have with the “controlling, domineering, irrational men with very few redeeming traits.” Reel in a man like that, and you must be some powerful woman yourself. “Rawr” to the lion tamer! And if the sex is great then that’s a serious bonus. Or maybe the only bonus, which is why the only place the hero and heroine don’t fight is in bed.
Me? I’ll take the nice guy anytime–especially since I know how UNlike a romance novel a relationship with a true-life misogynist is.
(And seriously… if you haven’t read Gabaldon’s Outlander series you need to do yourself a favor and fill up that bathtub again and go read it. Hurry.)
Hey, Bobbie; nice to see a new face around here.
I haven’t read Gabaldon’s books, but I’ll have to check them out. Nora Roberts is still my all-time favorite, although I’m rediscovering why I enjoy Virginia Henley despite some of her characters’ homophobic tendencies.
You know, I think I can understand the power aspect of that, and how it would appeal when fictionalized so that the danger and emotional abuse involved are at one remove from the reader, stripping away the negative effects to make it something exciting. I’ll admit I have a history of making bad choices in men, generally going for the ‘dangerous’ guys who were also high-maintenance, selfish, hurtful, etc. (and in college I had one relationship that trended into physical and emotional abuse, but I ended that quickly). Everyone wanted them, which made them arrogant as hell…and it made me arrogant as hell when they wanted me, so the rush of power was worth dealing with the fact that they were total jerks. We were trophy men for each other, and it never worked.
Which is why I’m glad I have a nice, stable, normal guy now. No drama, no danger; just a lot of brains, a silly sense of humor, adorable geekery, and the ability to just be a human being instead of a stereotyped relationship slot. And maybe that’s why my perception of romance novels has changed…not because I’m older, but because I’ve moved on to a more mature relationship that makes it impossible for me to find the romance-novel portrayals attractive.