A British psychologist says that romance novels are influencing “a huge number of the issues that we see in our clinics and therapy rooms”:
Blaming romance novels for unprotected sex, unwanted pregnancies, unrealistic sexual expectations and relationship breakdowns, author and psychologist Susan Quilliam says that “what we see in our consulting rooms is more likely to be informed by Mills & Boon than by the Family Planning Association”, advising readers of the Journal of Family Planning and Reproductive Health Care that “sometimes the kindest and wisest thing we can do for our clients is to encourage them to put down the books – and pick up reality”.
Her comments follow a recent claim that romance novels can “dangerously unbalance” their readers, with Christian psychologist Dr Juli Slattery saying she was seeing “more and more women who are clinically addicted to romantic books”, and that “for many women, these novels really do promote dissatisfaction with their real relationships”.
Writing in the latest issue of the academic magazine, published by the British Medical Journal, Quilliam said that the messages of “the post-sexual revolution bodice rippers of the 1970s”, which typically see “the heroine being rescued from danger by the hero, and then abandoning herself joyfully to a life of intercourse-driven multiple orgasms and endless trouble-free pregnancies in order to cement their marital devotion”, run “totally counter to those we try to promote”.
See also: How Romance Novels are Like Pornography
July 11th, 2011 | 9:37 am
That’s funny. When I did my research on romance novels (as part of a project – long story), most of the lines had heroines that refused to have sex outside of marriage – long after that had stopped being the norm in real life.
The only thing all romance novels have in common is that they’re all about relationships. They are heroine-centered, and deal with the question of negotiating relationships – sometimes in straightforward psychomachia form. What does a girl want from a relationship? What is she entitled to? And what is fair to give up in return?
I have never encountered a romance novel (and I’ve read many) that weren’t about those three questions.
Of course there’s an element of fantasy – and all fantasy writing is about desire. I guess women’s desires are particularly threatening or something, though, because both men and women get irrational when it comes to the idea of women actually indulging in actively thinking about what they desire in a relationship. As if daydreams and fantasies about what a relationship could be like in an ideal world is too dangerous to be permitted.
Why? What is real source of the fear, that this one particular type of fantasy has to be torn down, to the point where a woman fantasizing about being treasured by a man is equated with what men are fantasizing about when they read the sort of magazines you buy in adult bookstores?
As fantasies go, romance novels are less antisocial than most fantasy: the rewards are structured to come from working within the existing order, rather than rebelling against it. The structure is invariably comic – straight out of Northrop Frye’s classroom notes: starting with a stagnant, infertile society, entering into a period of inversions and identity-questions, and resolving with the formation of a new, revitalized society, which crystallizes around the new couple.
I have no doubt that the romance novel has come to replace the traditional “feminine wisdom” that used to be handed down from older women to younger ones. Today, you can’t trust anyone to have good advice – but we’ve got an active community where women unashamedly talk about what they want from a relationship, and for some reason people just can’t stand that. But for me the question remains: WHY?
“Clinically addicted” refers to the opinion of those who make their living diagnosing people as addicted, right? (As opposed to real science?)
If you abandon the presumption that the novels must be the “cause” of these problems (and just what is the problem other than the fact that these women are (a) reading these novels and (b) dissatisfied with their relationships?) the other possible conclusion is that reading a romance novel seems like a healthy response to profound dissatisfaction.
It seems to me that if women are self-medicating with romance novels, the real question isn’t what can we do about the novels. The question is, why are these women so unhappy?
And here we have the answer to my own question: the reason people can’t stand romance novels is because what women really fantasize about runs counter to ideological agendas on both the right and the left.
These women aren’t sick. They’re thought criminals and diagnosis is being used to put them down.
July 11th, 2011 | 10:25 am
When I did my research on romance novels (as part of a project – long story), most of the lines had heroines that refused to have sex outside of marriage – long after that had stopped being the norm in real life.
My wife reads romance novels on occasion (not because she buys them — long story), and from what she tells me, quite the opposite is true. They don’t tend to be promiscuous, but there is a lot of extramarital stuff going on.
I guess women’s desires are particularly threatening or something…
Oh, grow up.
July 11th, 2011 | 10:25 am
[...] Romance Novels Are Like Pornography: Part 1 and Part 2”: Does this apply to Christian romance novels as [...]
July 11th, 2011 | 11:02 am
They vary in content. Some are quite chaste, and secular publishers even embrace Christian romance. Harlequin’s “Love Inspired” line, for example. On the other hand, some blur the line between romance and erotica. The genre is surpisingly large.
I think they can be considered porn because they tend to promote unrealistic emotional or intimate views of men, just like porn promotes unrealistic sexual or body issues of women. Both would harm relationships by holding up an illusionary ideal that no real human can stand up to.
What worries me recently is that straight women seem to be embracing M/M romances to an unhealthy degree, either through amateur fan fiction shipping male characters together, or published books and graphic novels. That’s going to make for some cultural uneasiness as they learn that neither straight nor gay men are like that later on.
July 11th, 2011 | 11:32 am
and from what she tells me, quite the opposite is true. They don’t tend to be promiscuous, but there is a lot of extramarital stuff going on.
The biggest publisher is Harlequin, which publishes six or seven “sensual” lines – out of thirty. They also publish three “Christian” lines and a few other “sweet” (no sex) lines. So you can get books that have extramarital stuff in them, but that’s not inherent to the genre – there are plenty of Christian publishers selling romance novels. What they all have in common is that they’re about finding an idealized relationship – and that seems to be the problem: for some reason some people don’t like women fantasizing about idealized relationships.
Thinking about why it annoys me so much (and it does, it bugs the daylights out of me), I think it’s because I just expect better from the Christian community than this sort of lazy reasoning. Romances are not “like pornography”: people typically object to pornography because it’s linked to sex trafficking, or because it promotes and normalizes violence against women. Pornography is hated because it is an ugly, dangerous industry.
Given how attacks on Christians focus on the complaint that Christians like to meddle in other peoples’ sex lives for no good reason, I don’t think it’s unreasonable to expect Christians, when they are complaining about/criticizing/shaming/stigmatizing/ridiculing/otherwise interfering with other peoples’ sexual choices, to have real and solid reasons why the behavior in question is a genuine problem. Just not liking other people to enjoy having sexual fantasies is not enough to make an argument persuasive.
Why shouldn’t women read dimestore romances? It’s no sleazier than what’s on TV or in the movies (or in any other brand of books). The last time I watched TV, three shows in a row featured gorgeous women brutally murdered in ways that were as sensual as they were grisly. Yet this particular genre gets singled out as if it were particularly dangerous – using a comparison that relies on explicitly linking it with an industry that is linked to drugs, rape, crime, dangerous working conditions, and HIV.
It isn’t hurting anyone, and if the woman is unhappy, I have no doubt whatsoever that she’s reading the romance because she’s unhappy, not that she’s unhappy because she’s reading the romance.
If these psychologists knew what they were doing, they would spend less time judging these women for having the (ideologically) wrong fantasies, or trying to make women “put down the book” (how elitist-authoritarian is that?) and more time encouraging these women to figure out how to embrace and use those fantasies constructively – to turn unrealistic dreams into achievable goals.
July 11th, 2011 | 12:00 pm
It would seem to be that the author of this article is truly spitting into the wind because no one is going to care.
July 11th, 2011 | 12:23 pm
The biggest publisher is Harlequin, which publishes six or seven “sensual” lines – out of thirty. They also publish three “Christian” lines and a few other “sweet” (no sex) lines.
Out of curiosity, which of those sell the most? I genuinely don’t know, and you say you’ve done the research.
I know about the “Christian” lines. It’s interesting that the comments on the original article have to do with a British publisher, though. I wonder how much of this has to do with the style of romance novel in Britain.
Why shouldn’t women read dimestore romances? It’s no sleazier than what’s on TV or in the movies (or in any other brand of books).
Somehow I don’t find that a convincing argument. I don’t dispute the truth of it; I’ve found myself turning off TV a lot lately. But Christians *do* complain about violence on TV and in film. Have your forgotten the ridicule some Christian group received when they counted the number of acts of violence in Kevin Costner’s Robin Hood? for some reason, that’s the one that comes to mind. & then there’s quite a bit of complaining about violence in video games and even on TV. To pretend that Christians who complain about this stuff are complaining *only* about women’s sexuality sounds like you haven’t been exposed to a lot of Christian complaining.
It isn’t hurting anyone, and if the woman is unhappy, I have no doubt whatsoever that she’s reading the romance because she’s unhappy, not that she’s unhappy because she’s reading the romance.
Correlation is not causation: now that’s an important argument to make, and it’s a good point. I wish you wouldn’t raise all the tired, silly ones, though.
If these psychologists knew what they were doing, they would spend less time judging these women for having the (ideologically) wrong fantasies, or trying to make women “put down the book” (how elitist-authoritarian is that?) and more time encouraging these women to figure out how to embrace and use those fantasies constructively – to turn unrealistic dreams into achievable goals.
Could you elaborate? As it stands, this sounds like the sort of response many people give to women who complain about the amount of time their men spend on pornography — sorry, but it does. & I’m sure you must not mean that.
July 11th, 2011 | 12:47 pm
“trying to make women “put down the book” (how elitist-authoritarian is that?) ”
By this logic any advice to anyone or any opinion on how doing or not doing something is better than the alternative is “elitist-authoritarian.” Forgive me if it sounds elitist-authoritarian if I say that’s just silly talk and sounds like the fool’s response to counsel.
July 11th, 2011 | 1:34 pm
Jack, generally contemporary romances sell the most. I’m not sure which of the individual lines sell the most, but category contemporary and normal are the forefront. This would include sweet and risque novels lumped together.
The next category is paranormal, which has exploded recently. Then it’s historical. These three genres out perform inspirational by 2-3 to 1. Only romantic suspense sells less.
However I’m not sure if this counts Christian fiction from publishers like Baker House, etc. Those tend to be grouped separately under Inspirational Fiction regardless of genre.
Blake:
It’s not “particularly” dangerous. But they can have an effect similar to porn but mostly focused on emotional relationships. Men simply can’t match the emotional availability and stability the love interests have.
We all know its unrealistic for men to expect every woman to be a DD stripper. But it’s rarely commented on how unrealistic it is for women to think of men as wounded cowboys who just need the right woman to heal them, after which they will lavish unending devotion. It’s more subtle, but the objectification is there.
July 11th, 2011 | 2:40 pm
It does seem to me that the article linked to is just one British psychologist’s opinion of the romance novels of one UK publisher (Mills & Boon).
The problem with listening to a therapist talking about his patients who, he claims, are adversely affected by romance novels is that he is seeing only women who seek out therapy. For all he knows, there may be far, far more women who read romance novels voraciously who suffer no psychological affects from them at all. And his patients who he claims suffer from reading romance novels may not so much suffer emotional problems because they read romance novels as they immerse themselves in romance novels because they already have emotional problems.
So this article is to be taken with a grain of salt, and not least of all because it is disputed whether pornography, per se, is harmful, so even if romance novels are like pornography, it is questionable whether something that is like pornography is harmful. (I don’t want to start a discussion about whether porn is harmful or not, but I will concede that certain people do in some way become “addicted” to porn in a way that is self-destructive. But the same is true of alcohol, gambling, pets, sports, and just about anything you can think of.
July 11th, 2011 | 3:30 pm
“how to embrace and use those fantasies constructively – to turn unrealistic dreams into achievable goals.”
An “achievable goal” that depends on finding a man in your life who is essentially not a sinner in the ways that you most desire is not merely achievable, it’s idolatrous. Just because it isn’t physical desire doesn’t make the lust for the perfect man any less lustful. Wives are to learn to love *their husbands,* not take the husband they either have or don’t have and try to create the one they wish they had.
July 11th, 2011 | 10:22 pm
Though there is a certain amount of illogic:
Highlighting her concern that in a recent survey only 11.5% of romantic novels mentioned condom use, Quilliam says there was also a “clear correlation” between the frequency of romance reading and a negative attitude towards condoms.
How dare romance readers take their cues from romances rather than Quilliam.
July 12th, 2011 | 8:41 am
It’s a very strange day when I think Blake has some good points. Not everything, but still… :)
July 12th, 2011 | 10:09 am
Flannery O’Connor writes about this in her book Mystery and Manners. What she specifically attacks is the sentimental, which she describes as an effortless return to innocence. Pornography, she said, skips over the hard work of relationships and child rearing and so it is deeply sentimental.
(On a side note, I had endless fun with this during the 2008 campaign. I’d run into women who would say they are inspired by Obama’s speeches. I would tell the story of Lincoln’s struggle in writing the Gettysburg address and trying to find the words that lived up to the sacrifice that was made. This stood in deep contrast to the 2008 campaign speeches, wherein Obama practically promoted himself as the political messiah, and promised a solution for all that ails us at no more cost than pulling the lever in the voting booth. I would then talk about the Flannery O’Connor essay and wind it all up saying “this is what I mean when I say that his speeches are pornographic.”)
July 12th, 2011 | 2:35 pm
“Effortless return to innocence.” Brilliant. I could never quite “click” with O’Connor, but this is a great way to put it.
Someone once said the largest problem with Thomas Kinkade’s work is that it’s an attempt to depict a world without mess or ugliness, but without the price that Heaven requires (death and resurrection.) It’s along the same lines.
July 12th, 2011 | 4:29 pm
David, but it needs to be discussed. Boons and Mills essentially is Harlequin-Harlequin copied their format to bring over to the states. And series romance sells a staggering number of books. It’s not something that a small number of people consume.
A lot of cultural influences are becoming mainstream and are escaping any form of critical review or eye. People just don’t think they can affect others, because it’s lowbrow culture. But it can have effects. Our worldview are shaped to a decent part by media, often subconsciously. Romance novels reach more people than any genre, and it’s a bit naive to think their tropes have no impact.
July 12th, 2011 | 5:00 pm
I wish you wouldn’t raise all the tired, silly ones, though.
There is nothing tired or silly about saying that if you’re going to shame, judge, scold, rebuke, or otherwise single out women for reading romance novels (which are far and away the best-selling genre out there last time I checked), you ought to have good reasons.
The reasons offered here are not IMO good reasons.
The opinion of a psychologist who is still hung up about 1970s “bodice rippers” isn’t worth much.
I think it’s very rude to go around suggesting that other peoples’ sexual fantasies need to be corrected. I have yet to hear how the women who read these books are doing any harm, and I do not believe readers of romances need to have their fantasies controlled “for their own good”, so I don’t get what the problem is.
July 14th, 2011 | 1:02 pm
“I do not believe readers of romances need to have their fantasies controlled “for their own good”, so I don’t get what the problem is.”
Has anyone suggested controlling anyone else?
I thought this discussion was about the wisdom of doing something — whether something was good for you.
Surely we haven’t gotten to the point that we’re so afraid of being controlled that we can’t even discuss whether some things are healthier or unhealthier to freely engage in, than others? Is there really no such thing as wisdom anymore, just control vs. freedom? Who stole Blake and replaced him with a Marxist?
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