My friend Ed has been doing a series of posts on why men (in general) don’t like romance novels – as in the genre shelved all together in the bookstore, that is, not love stories as a whole. They’re very well-written and insightful, and I don’t plan on overlapping them here. However, it has gotten me thinking about why I don’t like romance novels. I haven’t read a whole bunch cover-to-cover, I admit; I read a couple of Harlequins back in the day just to see what all the fuss was about and wasn’t too impressed. There was only one sex scene between the two of them, which kind of surprised me, but what really bugged me was how they were pretty much the exact same story: woman meets unapproachable man (a “bad boy”), woman and man are forced together by unlikely circumstances, woman breaks through man’s gruff exterior, woman and man fall in love. There were also numerous mentions of kissing so hard their lips were bruised, which doesn’t sound like much fun to me.
But you know, I did read Twilight. Which are, in a nutshell, about a girl meeting an unapproachable boy, breaking through his gruff exterior, and falling in love. And I’m sure his oft-repeated marble lips bruised hers on more than one occasion. And yet, I was totally entertained (though admittedly perhaps for the wrong reasons). Cleolinda Jones, by the way, has an excellent theory about why girls like bad boys. This is just an excerpt; be sure to read her entire post for more brilliance.
“I actually don’t think girls like a guy who treats them bad. But I do think they–we–get off a little on the idea of changing someone for the better, or the idea of having the power that someone loves us so much that he’ll change or sacrifice something for us. [...] A nice guy doesn’t need to change, and, most importantly, he’s already nice to everyone. How do you know that you’re special if he treats everyone else with as much kindness and respect as he treats you? The “bad boy” type, though? He may range from simple, garden-variety jackhole (hello, Sawyer!) to appalling psychopath (hello, Dr. Lecter!), but you know he loves you because he’s completely different around you. You are an exception to his very nature. [...] Mr. Darcy and Mr. Rochester are both cold, prickly, withdrawn types until Lizzie Bennet and Jane Eyre arrive, respectively, to bewilder and melt them. That’s the fantasy.”
I completely agree with this. Cleolinda goes on to say that in reality, most people who treat other people badly eventually also treat you badly, which is why most (mature) woman aren’t actually all that interested in bad boys in the real world. Just in fiction.
So what’s the difference between Twilight and romance novels? Not much, except that the Twilight characters are teenagers and most romance novel characters are adults. But maybe that’s important, you know? Teenagers are supposed to be impulsive and rash and obsessive and malleable. Adults aren’t, so it’s hard to be sympathetic with the angst and unlikely personality changes. And sure, perhaps falling in love with a nice person isn’t quite as thrilling to the outside observer, but it can be just as satisfying if written well.
The other romance novels I’ve picked up since those couple of Harlequins (including subgenres like historical romance, romance suspense, and paranormal romance, all genres I usually enjoy without the “romance” tag) were given up after a chapter or two. I just didn’t care about the characters or storyline one whit.
Maybe I’m just reading the wrong romance novels. I’m open to suggestions.