Was it good for you? ...okay, so WHY was it good?

Just for fun--okay, for procrastination, if you really want to know--last week I started googling to see what I could find about the effects of romance novels. Wow: there are a lot of dire predictions out there. I get the impression many people still believe we romance readers are melting our brains, jacking our expectations regarding relationships to unhealthy heights, and compensating for some dire lack in our own lives.

I don't feel particularly brain-melted myself, and I've very content with my life and relationships, so I'm just going to ignore that and move on to a more fun, and infinitely more sensible, question: what are romance novels good for?

A quick list of my own reasons for loving them:

1. They're an inexpensive mood-boosting treat for when I crave some fun, frivolous distraction. They have no calories, they aren't tested on animals, and when I buy them in ebook form I don't even have to dust them or recycle them.

2. Far from distorting my expectations about real life romances, they can, if I'm in the right mood, remind me of how much I appreciate real-life, down-to-earth, flawed human beings like myself. (Let's be honest here: any impossibly handsome man who rides up on a horse would just make me fall over laughing, and further down the road I'd probably end up strangling him in his sleep. Perfection would not actually be any fun to live with.)

3. Well-written romances can keep alive that small, hopeful spark of "there are good people out there, capable of love and commitment" even in the face of endless dreary statistics about divorce, dishonesty, infidelity, and ennui.
Maybe they even promote real-life romance. After all, it's been argued that appreciation of the athletic male form used to be considered an inducement for young women to marry. No, really: In the all-Greece Olympic Games there were restrictions for female spectators (even under penalty of death execution). Some authors state that all women were banned from watching the games whereas others insist that the ban was only for married women but unmarried women were allowed to be present. And in trying to find quotes on that, I just found one suggesting appreciation for female beauty was also used to lure men to marriage: The contests were restricted to unmarried girls, who competed either nude or wearing only skimpy dresses. Boys were admitted as spectators, a practice intended to encourage marriage and procreation.
So, there you go: maybe swooning over men-in-fiction (or women-in-fiction) could have the same effect. *grins*

4. Just having novels with women as main characters, and which treat women's desire/sexuality/romantic impulses as something worth thinking about, writing about, and discussing is a good thing, in my opinion. Or to put that in academia-speak, here, have a quotation from Dr. Virginia Lyn Neylon, Reading and Writing the Romance Novel: Popular romance novels provide images of women struggling in a patriarchal society and overcoming its obstacles and limitations to achieve happiness and fulfillment. They illustrate a female ideology where women and men form loving partnerships and work together in mutual support and understanding. They often rejoice in female sexuality and validate women’s wants and desires."
I especially like how the conversations that surround romance novels can end up being quite serious. What can start as a simple discussion of whether plot elements like rape, dubcon, or alcohol-as-disinhibitor are on your personal SquickList or Bullet Proof Kink List can spiral off into whole conversations about why women desire what they desire, whether desires should be catered to or regulated, and how culture reinforces certain desires, or possibly even creates them, while suppressing others. I love that.

So what about everyone else who reads them? What are romance novels good for?

It's Friday the Thirteenth AND tomorrow is Valentine's Day

I'm not entirely sure how best to celebrate that. 'Romantic horror,' maybe?

The depression recession will be very romantic? The sheer stress of money worries in general, and fear of redundancy in particular will, she argues, elevate levels of the chemical dopamine in the brain - and dopamine is associated with romantic love. I love the idea of people clinging to each other as the economy crumbles; be nice to think that when 'money' isn't making us happy, we all have the sense to remember people are more important anyway. Although the line Equally, respect drops for a partner who is economically less successful makes me want to throw things at peoples' idiot heads.

Another prediction that romance novels will do well. Even though the romance industry continues to grow, these authors don't think the haze of mockery surrounding the industry is going to go away anytime soon, even if the genre is poised to expand in rough economic times. Actually, the best thing about that article is the way it kicks a few cliches in the teeth, and introduces some very cool authors. Although possibly by now it's time to move on from 'debunking the cliches about romance novelists by repeating and then refuting them,' to 'considering the cliches too stupid to even mention.'

In a lecture before the Utah Humanities Council's Book Festival last October, Thayne told her audience that while romance novels may not always incorporate feminist tenets, they never forsake the core conviction that not only can women enjoy the love and attention of men, they deserve it as well. That rings very true. It also reminds me of something I've always wondered: why don't men read romance novels? I don't mean all the time, or as their escape reading; I mean, why don't more men read them just as a hint to what's stuffed into women's subconscious-attic-space?
Maybe that sounds like too much work, but seriously, if a nine year old's book of dating advice can get published, there is obviously a lot of bafflement between the sexes. Wouldn't it be easier just to borrow a few things from a friend's escape-reading pile, and scan for clues? Bearing in mind that it's fiction, and needs to be translated, not just applied directly to real life.

And one other question, this time inspired by Cupid’s Arrow: A Letter to My Daughter . I know there are Mormon/LDS romance novels, and I've seen Harlequin Inspirationals, which are Christian (possibly a specific denomination? I don't really know, I haven't read any); do other religions have tailored-to-their-needs romances? I would expect they do. Anyone have any good links or recommendations?

Doctors

I've started looking for vintage medical ads, and covers from vintage romances featuring doctors and nurses. No, this isn't just because I'm hopped up on pain pills as I try to wean myself off caffeine, although I can't deny that that might be a factor.

LJ's vintage_ads community posts these from time to time. Like this post, full of pharmaceutical goodness. I'm particularly intrigued by Placidyl; from what I can tell, it made you dress funny and then knocked you flat-out unconscious.

And Mornidine, a drug so powerful it caused you to cook breakfast.

Oh, and vintage ads featuring doctors, though advertising non-medical products, would also suit my purposes. Like those Camel Cigarette ads.

(The probable source of most of the vintage ads seems to be Whispering Ibis' collections on Flickr: set two doesn't have exactly what I need, but is still entertaining; set one is just perfect.)

Further Mormon Romance Links

Those of you who haven't seen my last post are probably wondering about that "further."

Eugene Woodbury's Angel Falling Softly is a romantic vampire story written by a vampire, but one which wasn't actually marketed as LDS fiction, which I learned from Moriah Jovan's post.

And this is Moriah Jovan on genre. I seriously want to read her book now, even though it sounds VERY Mormon and I may miss some references because of that: "The story takes place over the course of 5 years and oh, by the way, they’re all in their late 30s and early 40s and wow is that so not part of genre romance." I mean, yes, that's her blog so obviously that's a self-promotional post, since SELLING her book is part of her job and all, but I think it sounds like a potentially interesting read. I want it. (Also found via her blog, though it has nothing to do with anything I'm trying to find right now: there is a Conservative blog called Absinthe and Cookies.)

And a blog post that suggests a purpose for LDS erotica.

I'm still seeking pre-existence/Mormon romance novel links, so if you find any and care to hand them along, I'd be delighted.

Eternal Love

Okay, I was going to post about the Visionary Daughters today, but then Tharain and Amy Star linked me to an informative post about Twilight, and I fell down a rabbithole, and so instead you're getting links about Pre-Existence. I'll get back to the Daughters next time.

1. First up, Saturday's Warrior, a musical which begins...oh, let me just quote Wikipedia: While waiting to be born in the pre-existence, a family of seven promises each other that they will always be there for each other ("Pullin' Together"). The youngest, Emily, is afraid when her turn to be born comes around, their parents will be tired of having kids, and she won't be born into their family. But moving swiftly along, there's also romance: Julie, the second-oldest daughter, and Todd, another spirit in the pre-existence, promise each other that, while on earth, they will somehow find each other and get married. (You guys, at this point I would basically give a limb to hear the soundtrack to this. Or, okay, not a limb, but something.)

LDS romance novels, if they exist, must have a great time using this "love in the pre-existence" idea. Don't you think? I am obviously not the only one to wonder about this; I wonder if certain aspects of Mormon theology and history (polygamy, agency, eternal marriage, pre-existence) lead to any interesting and/or significant differences between the Mormon and the mainstream novels (and how those markets developed). (That's from the comments, not the main post.)

2. Okay, googling this ("lds pre-existence romance") brought me to a semi-coherent Harmonian LDS blogpost: Some people have a flesh romance. The other person's body appeals to them, and the relationship is mostly built on that focus. Others feel that looking at the person's face and eyes appeals to them, and the body being a reasonable shape is sufficient. It is a pleasing to the eye experience. But then there are those who's relationship doesn't focus on either of these aspects. They feel a mental oneness with the person, and couldn't care less what they look like. Actually, that does perfectly explain some aspects of Harmonianism as well. Coincidence? I think not.

3. But back to LDS romance novels: In Your Place is pre-existence-y. As is The Path of Dreams, reviewed here.

C'mon, there have to be more than that. Links, anyone? Recommendations? There are fascinating things a romance novelist could do with that whole pre-existence thing. Deseret have a romance novel section, but I can't tell which ones meet my specific criteria of being based on the idea of pre-existence being a factor in romance and marriage.

4. Somewhat off-topic, but funny: Seriously, So Blessed! is a parody of LDS "mommy blogs."
Also, a Mormon Dating Horror Story: He attempted the yawn and stretch to get his arm around her, made it PAINFULLY obvious he wanted to hold her hand by putting his and palm up on his knee and then opening and closing it repeatedly, and so forth and so on. The retelling is hilarious.

5. And this post wouldn't be complete without at least one thing you wish you hadn't seen, so here, have some Mormons Exposed.

Romance Covers: Special Careers Edition

I freely admit I'm cheating with this first cover. It doesn't depict a "career girl," or even a working girl (or a stripper--more about that later). I just wanted to stick it in as an early version of "The Runaway Bride."
Bride in Flight

She looks overjoyed, doesn't she? Heartwarming, really.


Moving right along. This next cover is clipped, but I love it anyway. Partly for the title, which not only calls to mind girls' books of the "Cherry Ames, Army Nurse" variety, but is also defiantly capslocked and stubbornly devoid of dash or a colon. It's CAROL TRENT AIR STEWARDESS, damn it, she doesn't need punctuation!
Carol Trent Air Stewardess

You have to love the way he's staring directly at her chest. I mean, he's not merely casually checking her out, there. He has an expression of intense concentration such as you or I might wear when doing calculus.


I've come to the conclusion that it used to be considered very romantic to depict people--or, really, just their heads--staring off into space and not noticing one another at all.
Fly Away, Love

I was going to comment on the attractions of pilots and uniforms, but I hardly need to. Even in disconnected cover art which looks like it was drawn with crayons, he looks good. Damn.


You know what else is awesome about pilots in romance novels? They're responsible and manly and yet don't have quite the same duty of care towards their passengers as, say, doctors do towards patients. Why am I bringing that up? You'll see.
Cobweb Morning

Sorry, but yes, the cover really is JUST THAT YELLOW. And you're not going to understand why this made the list without a quotation from the back cover.

Alexandra Dobbs knew just how she felt about the inscrutable doctor, Taro van Dresselhuys--but their young patient, Penny, seemed to feel that way about him too. Unfortunately all the cards were stacked in Penny's favor.

And by "all the cards were stacked in Penny's favor," the author apparently means "Penny is not only pretty and possibly under-aged, but an amnesiac!" I'm imagining an inscrutable Ethics Committee probably had to get involved to sort that out.


In contrast, the Doctor and Nurse on this next cover positively exude professionalism.
The Mercy Heroes

...professionalism and heavy makeup.
I'm not entirely sure this is a romance novel, really, because in addition to the standard "brilliant surgeon, devoted to his calling" and "a competent and beautiful nurse, in love and afraid to show it," we have action, and lots of it:

Together they brave a night of blinding snow to pick up an accident case suffering from severe head injuries. They fly through the storm-tossed sky, subdue the crazed patient, race against time...all to save the life of a destitute tramp.

Notice how he has to be brilliant, while she merely has to be competent (and, not coincidentally, beautiful; if she'd been plain, would she have had to be brilliant too? How does the scoring system work in romance novels, does anyone know?).


The bar is lower for our next hero.
Gregor Lotharian Surgeon

Not "brilliant surgeon" or "dedicated surgeon;" it's enough that he's a surgeon. That alone makes him sufficiently desirable, or it did back in 1962, anyway. Nowadays women would probably expect him to have an adequate personality or to dress well or something, God, WHAT DO WOMEN WANT? It was much easier when the rules were clear: go to med school, get chicks.
I also keep misreading that title as "Gregor Lothario," but that's because I'm confusing him with Doctor Woodward, below.


You know, the title of this one made me expect it to be about a nun, which, yes, I know doesn't make any sense for a romance novel.
Heaven is Gentle

It didn't help that the back cover refers to "Sister Eliza Proudfoot," which I stared at in complete confusion for several minutes before the phrase "nursing sister" surfaced from somewhere deep within my memory, dispelling my horrible suspicion that someone had written a romance novel featuring a nun.
I should have guessed, though, from the stethoscope around the man's neck; clearly he is a doctor, so of course the heroine is a nurse. Or an amnesiac. I DON'T EVEN CARE, as long as she's not a nun.


But that's nothing to the misreadings this next cover lends itself to.
Sister Pussycat

Back in the days when there were no helpful websites to generate your stripper name, it was completely possible to read that title with a straight face.
Bonus: the unattractive hero in the vest made from a tablecloth is, of course, a doctor. "Doctor David Jasper," to be precise.


The aforementioned Lothario:
Doctor Woodward's Ambition

From the front cover, you'd guess that Dr. Woodward's ambition consisted of marrying a nurse, and living happily ever after on a diet of fruit and pep pills. Seriously, no one looks as perky as these two without the aid of medication.
But then you read the back cover, and suddenly it all seems so much more sordid.

Why yes: I could resist him. I'm resisting him RIGHT NOW, aided by the nausea induced by his sleeziness and his cartoon moustache.


And I can't end this without something more recent, something from an era which offers something new:
A Doctor in her Stocking

Yes, I know: another damned doctor. That wasn't the "something new" I meant.
What I meant is, the heroine is a pregnant waitress (not a nurse!) with a dead (and formerly deadbeat) husband, and there are explicit sex scenes between her and "Reed Atchison, M.D.," who offers to let her live at his place because he's lost a bet. The sex scenes are especially special since the entire book spans less than two weeks, not to mention the whole "hugely pregnant" thing. Sex during pregnancy, imho, takes more trust than can be established in two weeks.
Also it all takes place at Christmas. And "it all" includes the heroine giving birth, right before the requisite proposal. *facepalm* I don't even know where to start with explaining why I find this all profoundly unromantic...

Romance Covers: Historical

A Georgian Romance:



Originally released as, "How Gold My Highlights." No, actually, I like this cover. There people have Really Good Hair--the colour, anyway; his cut's a little too 80s for my taste. But hey, what do I know about Georgian hair? Maybe it's supposed to look like that.
I'm struggling to remember how I came to acquire a Georgian Romance. Has anyone else even heard of a Georgian Romance? Where did I get this thing?


A Byronic Hero:



I almost like this cover, too, mostly for the Byronic brooding hero. See the brooding Byronicness, there? It's only slightly spoiled by the sallow skin tone, but at least he has a skin tone: the woman gazing longingly at his neck has been entirely drained of blood.


Thick:



Sticking with the Byronic theme for a moment, look: it's Claire Claremont! I love how the artist has chosen to take the title literally, and has given her a befuddled, none-too-bright pout.


A Taxonomic Error:



Speaking of dumb heroines, Miss Cayley seems a tad confused as to what a unicorn looks like. That, you poor dumb child, is clearly a Vampire. Stop smirking at it and run.
(That tagline kind of reminds you to be grateful Stonewall happened, doesn't it?)


Insert Kitten A:


Nothing says insipid quite like a gamboling kitten. Bonus points for matching the kitten to her hair--I bet she dyes them both.


Crumbs of Nothing:



Wait, I lied. Daintily pretending to feed swans says insipid in pretty much precisely the same way fawning over a kitten does. I'm not the only one who thinks she's just doing that for show, either--check out the "Are you fucking kidding me?" expression on the hero's face.


Detachable Peen: Non-Fandom Edition:



I bet on first glance you made the same mistake I did, and assumed that for some reason this heroine is gazing adoringly at a short male veterinarian with an incredibly unconvincing mustache. Thanks to fandom, I've learned to reassess: every unconvincing male is, in fact, a woman.


You Could Maybe Shave That:



Is that a Sporran, or are you just...oh, forget it. The guy with the revolting smirky leer isn't half so eye-catching as the heroine's 'Carmen Miranda: Now Playing the Regency!' dress.


Mister Fluffy: the Early Years:



Nice hair. Shame about his face.
...c'mon, I was not the only one who thought that.
He's obviously very proud of his hair, since he's cleverly drawing attention to it by displaying a huge cat to match it. Is this a known Regency trend? Did people used to be required by law to own a cat that matched their hair?


How Deep My Innuendo:



"All right, how much if you don't use the riding crop?" she asked, jingling her purse.

I was going to joke that this had originally been titled, "Jack on the Game" but the title was censored.
And then I realized that the actual title? Is approximately 1000x filthier. And now I can't stop smirking horribly, sort of like the 'Beastie' of a couple of covers back.