If you had told me this time last year that I would be rhapsodizing about romance novels I would have laughed in your face. But how could I have predicted what 2020 would bring? In March, when I moved back home and began my remote learning adventure, I decided to catch up on my reading, so I went on a checking-out spree on my local library’s digital database. Somehow, call it a slip of a finger, call it fate, I accidentally checked out The Kiss Quotient by Helen Hoang. At any other point in my life, I would have seen that cheesy title, rolled my eyes and returned it, but boredom and curiosity took umbrage and so I spent an afternoon in March reading my first ever romance novel.
And… I loved it. I was charmed by the characters, I cried at the end, and on the whole, I had an amazing time. After a youtube deep dive, and discovering romance novel booktube, I embarked on a dramatic, sometimes steamy, sometimes laughable romance of my own: a romance with romance if you will. At the end of 2020, I had read a whopping 43 books in the romance genre. 43. That’s 40% of the books I read last year. Before you write me off as a lonely teenage girl, desperate for fictional company during the pandemic, I have a question for you, dear reader: Have you ever read a romance novel?
For years, I’ve known that romance novels aren’t what good readers read. Romance novels are for airplanes and housewives, and as an English major, they are certainly not for me. When I mentioned in an English class last semester that I love romance novels (no shame, I know) my professor told me that she has never, not once, read a romance novel. I’m not here to shame people, to do the reverse of what the reading community does to romance readers, but I have to say that this declaration confused me. How can someone who has dedicated their life to literature completely disregard an entire genre?
I suppose it isn’t too surprising; while mystery and thrillers have made their way into literary fiction, some horror novels are well respected, even young adult books get critical praise, reviewers and avid readers alike avoid romance novels like the plague (ironically it took an actual plague for me to read one.) And after all, the genre of romance novels is almost homogeneously female: from writers to readers, romance novels are books for women by women. It’s one of the only genres I can think of that is dominated by women. So is it really any surprise that romance novels are ignored?
Even Smith College is complicit in the disregard for romance novels: some extremely popular romance novelists attended Smith and receive no recognition from the college. J.R. Ward, New York Times best-selling author and winner of the Romance Writers of America RITA Award, is a Smithie (it even says so in her Amazon bio). She’s a paranormal romance institution and yet Smith doesn’t seem to care. Sarah MacLean, in her interview for the Sophian, mentions this phenomenon as well. Apparently being a best-selling novelist in a female-run genre isn’t important enough to warrant recognition from Smith.
Of course, there is the sexual aspect. Sex is often a significant, explicit aspect of romance novels, the genre has the most graphic sex scenes I have ever read. But, unlike most sex in media, the sex in romance novels is not for the male gaze. It’s for women, it’s what women want (or at least what romance novelists think women want) to see. And is there anything society hates more than women having good sex? Sex is already so taboo in Western society, and women enjoying sex is even more so. So while sex in books, or on television may not be for everyone, I prefer gratuitous sex to gratuitous sexual violence (Karin Slaughter, I’m looking at you).
While sexism is to blame for most “romance novel erasure” I don’t just want to complain about a sexist society that seems to be changing at a snail’s pace, I want to sell you on the genre (a gargantuan task, I know). I’m not going to sit here and tell you that romance novels are literary gems, because, honestly, they’re not. But, at the end of the day, what best sellers are? If you are the type of person who only reads critically acclaimed literature, I understand the hesitation for reading a book with a shirtless man in a kilt on the cover. But, if you want an enjoyable, lighthearted read, a romance novel could be your best bet.
Furthermore, if you are looking for diversity, romance novels are leading the way: Helen Hoang’s romance novels follow autistic and neurodivergent characters finding love, Talia Hibbert’s romance novels feature people of color, queer people, and plus-sized people, and Beverly Jenkins is changing the extremely white historical romance genre by writing historical romances featuring black main characters. Furthermore, many romance novels deal with topics like assault, trauma, depression, and anxiety, and in my opinion, portray those issues in an authentic, realistic way. The days of the one-dimensional bodice ripper are over; few shrinking violets are submitting to the will of brawny he-men nowadays. Instead, most romances published after 2000 feature consent and healthy relationships with realistic and multidimensional characters. And honestly, in a world where women are often treated terribly, seeing women treated well and respected both intellectually and emotionally is a breath of fresh air.
Independent publishing is instrumental in the romance community, with many of the genre’s most popular writers self-publishing online. The quality of self-published novels is sometimes lacking, but the large institutions of the genre (Penelope Douglas, Giana Darling) produce relatively good quality, sometimes controversial, always entertaining novels. I mean, there is something to be said about a pop-punk, early 2000s romance, isn’t there?
I can’t force people to read romance novels (believe me, I’ve tried) but I can issue a challenge: next time you’re desperate and don’t know what to read, instead of picking up a James Patterson or Dan Brown thriller, try Talia Hibbert or Lisa Kleypas instead. Try to rid yourself of bias. After all, how can you judge an entire genre of books if you haven’t read a single one?
While I could sing the praises of romance novels all day long, for the sake of time and the audiences’ interest, I want to keep it personal; share the reason why I read 43 romance novels in 2020. This year was terrifying, there was almost nothing but uncertainty and the future looked, and still sometimes does look, grim. When the world got too hard to bear, when the fear took over, I knew that on my kindle I could find a happy ending. Whether it was a marriage of convenience in The Duchess Deal or a charming group of desperate men in The Bromance Book Club, romance novels introduced whimsy and joy to my life that I couldn’t find anywhere else. In the darkest of times, I knew that my kindle could light the way with a farcical premise, some sexual tension, and a guaranteed happy ending.
(Photo by Helen McColpin)
