Smart Bitches Trashy Books | All of the romance, none of the bullshit.

First, I don’t think you can properly appreciate or even understand the experience of the RT convention unless you’ve seen one and been there for the whole of it (which means my opinion means diddly since I had to leave early to go feast on the matzo this year). So to try to reveal the convention to outsiders, both to the convention itself and the genre on the whole, might backfire and invite more snide and demeaning comments about how silly, sexist, and sophomoric romance and its fans are, don’t you know.

I honestly don’t know that it’s possible to capture on film what makes RT the giant cluster of ?!! that it is, because underneath the costumes and the feathers and the contestants and the male beauty pageant and the balls and the matched sets of luggage that hold six foot chiffon wings are a dedicated posse of readers and fans of romance who live for that weekend. They save up all year and work for months on their costumes. It is impossible to overstate how much happiness the attendees squeeze out of the RT convention. They love it like I love donuts. I don’t know if it’s truly possible to capture that happiness beneath the costumes and festivities, which from the outside looking in miss ‘joyous and fun’ and might land squarely on ‘just plain weird.’ RT is a lot of, ‘You had to be there.’

Second, the degree to which the interviewees discuss Alpha Males in the trailer makes me pause. Phrases like, “We bring these women into the fantasy” and “We’re here for the ladies” give me the shudders because nothing says “silly empty-headed women” like the phrase “bringing into fantasy.” I didn’t think RT was so much about the Alpha Male, or the ever-present hero that embraces that archetype with his steely gaze and rock-hard abs. It’s certainly true that alpha maledom is a known element in the genre, but is that the avenue through which to introduce folks who aren’t familiar with romance to the genre? It’s not all Alpha males and wings, folks. Neither is it all women who “live in their books.”

Thirdly, I have to wonder about the way in which the RT Convention is being held up as indicative and representative of “Romance.” Given the “Romance is....” headers to each segment of the teaser, and the fact that the documentary revolves around the convention, the fans, and the authors, it would be easy for anyone who views the film to then presume that all romance readers are like those featured in the documentary. And if there’s anything I’ve learned in the three-plus years of running SBTB, it’s the simple fact that sometimes the only thing romance fans have in common is the romance novel itself.

My questions and reservations aside, I’d love to see this film, simply because RT and its surrounding Fiesta of Whoa are no doubt a ripe subject matter for documentary-style exploration. If you get a chance to go see the premiere, let me know how it is.

ETA - Thanks to Jane, here’s a link to the Daily Oklahoman coverage:

Anyway: conjugal enemies? Hell yes. The protagonists in these old-skool novels couldn’t stand each other. The heroine’s loathing for the hero was writ large every few pages (at least, until the first orgasm, and then the loathing transferred to her own body as well), but they still couldn’t stop conjugatin’ all over the piece. This lack of control over their passions--even if it was passionate hatred--was often transformed into passionate love through a mysterious alchemical means I’m not entirely sure I’ve figured out yet. At some point in the book, the heroine suddenly sees the hero’s lack of control and little signs of tenderness (not raping her until she bleeds, not forcing her to meet his former mistress, allowing her the freedom to indulge in some unconventional-for-the-time activity like sailing or running a business or communing with the whales or whatever the fuck) as signs of affection, and she re-interprets her actions and reactions as being signs of True Luuuurrrrve as well. I don’t find these transformations convincing, but I know many other people do, and the different reading and interpretation process is fascinating to me.

This isn’t to say that adversarial relationships aren’t fun to read about, or that they can’t be used as convincing indicators of two people who resist falling in love with everything they have. When these relationships are more balanced, I tend to think of them as “loving adversaries"--circumstances or their own personalities don’t allow them to act on their attraction, so they spar and snipe as a way to act out some of their tensions in ways other than bonin’ each other six ways to Sunday. I recently watched His Girl Friday, and that was the term that immediately came to mind. Underneath the constant quipping and sparring and attempts to one-up each other between Walter and Hildy was a sense of attraction and true affection.

But there was more to it, too. I think what made it an adversarial relationship as opposed to one based on enmity was the way the two of them were portrayed as equals. Walter would try to pull a fast one on Hildy, but oftentimes, she’d be just one step ahead of the game and have blocked his move before he could complete it. Hildy, at least until the end, is a strong woman with enough power and experience to make her choices and moves count.

And that’s not something you can say about the old-skool heroine. Most old-skool novels make a point of systematically stripping power from the heroine--she’s young, she’s alone in the world, and most of the meaningful choices over when, how and to whom she wants to express her sexuality is denied her. The only true power she has is her hold over the hero, but she’s unaware of this until a significant part of the book is over; her constant expressions of hatred were a way for her to deny the hero his emotional hold over her. The power imbalance results in a much more virulent hatred instead of a more playful sparring, and it’s this hostility that raises my hackles and makes it difficult for me to accept the transformation from conjugal enemy to lover. Adversarial relationships, on the other hand, are not necessarily based on enmity, and I find the resulting clashes much more satisfying and believable to write about.

Interestingly enough, the old-skool romance and His Girl Friday end in much the same way: the heroine capitulates to the hero, and the resolution feels a bit limp as a consequence. Hildy’s transformation at the end of His Girl Friday is less than convincing for me because the writer made her pliant--almost wide-eyed and confused. It’s disappointing because Hildy has real power that she seems to cede over to Walter once she acknowledges that she still loves him. The old-skool heroine’s often abrupt about-face, while startling, is at least consistent with the worldview of the book--she gains power once she stops struggling against the hero and accepts him.

Not all romance novels end this way. One of the reasons why I love Midsummer Moon by Laura Kinsale so much, for example, is how Merlin and Ransom are locked in an adversarial relationship throughout much of the book, but you never lose sight of how much affection and love the two of them feel for each other. Ransom finally makes a significant power-grab when he takes what Merlin loves away from her (those of you who’ve read the book know what I’m talking about), but in the end, the power balance equalizes when he learns to love and live with Merlin as she is, not as he wants her to be.

Not all romance novels use the conjugal enemies/loving adversaries model; Patricia Gaffney’s best work, for example, as well as Barbara Samuel’s, don’t set up their conflicts that way. But it’s a fun way to set up a story, and like the Energizer Bunny, it’s easy to allow the conflict to go on and on and on. I also know that many people view the adversarial relationships between hero and heroine in old-skool romances than I do. What do you think about power structures and loving adversaries vs. conjugal enemies?