(no subject)
Sep. 5th, 2004 06:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
which_chickAnyway. As with yesterday's not-high-culture movie reviews, today we have a not-high-culture romance novel review and some thoughts on the genre. I'm not particularly a reader of romance novels much these days because they're... *sigh*... so fucking sexist. They are. And I don't like the ones that aren't sexist because then the guys are all wimpy and I don't like that either. I cringe inside my head for liking the ones with sexist pig hero types in the guy role even though, y'know, I *like* them. It feels like I'm somehow letting down the cause for liking romance novels with neanderthal heros in them.
I feel certain that normal women can read romance novels for the smutty bits without getting so angry about the portrayal of desireable men and plucky heroines that they don't have a hope in hell of enjoying the smutty bits. However, we've already established that I don't live in the same world as other people do. In my own little world, het romance novels are problematic on several levels and I read them anyway, sometimes, and then I bitch about the experience. At least it keeps me off the streets and away from normal people.
Today's romance novel is Dark Guardian by Christine Feehan. It's from La's house. She gave it over as a "supernatural sex book", which is a reasonable three-word summary of the thing. It's got vampires and ghouls and such in it. At least they're not Vampyres. The guy on the cover is cute in a "Model is Gay" sort of way. The writing is minimally competent, drifting into florid for the smutty bits, but not measureably more than other writing characteristic of the genre. It's okay. Not great, but okay. I didn't fling it across the room in a fit of pique, so it wasn't entirely sucky.
Our plot: Plucky woman cop (Jaxon) has traumatic childhood, blah blah, Navy Seals, blah blah, becomes plucky cop. She's short, teeny, and blond. And plucky. Have I mentioned she's a cop? And, not that this should come as a suprise to those familiar with the genre, she's a virgin. (This is a trope. They're damn near all virgins. The ones that aren't virgins have never had *good* sex before.)
Meanwhile, and for a significantly longer period of time, our good not-a-vampire Lucien (unintentional fandom crossover, like those flashes of light you get when you press gently on your closed eyeballs, to The Raven and our good friend Lucien LaCroix) fellow who, with his twin brother Gabriel (perhaps their parents were deeply religious people?), are Not-vampires who still have a need for good sunblock and crimson liquid refreshment. But they're NOT VAMPIRES. They're good. They drink human blood and stay out of the sunshine and hunt bad, ugly vampires. And ghouls. Possibly also Vampyres. Anyway.
The primary difference between the good not-a-vampire types and the bad vampire types appears to be their relative level of cuteness. The good guys are way hotter than the bad guys. The bad guys start off being good guys but if they don't land an appropriate chickie, their lives lose all color (This is meant literally, but isn't it much more fun if you read it as a metaphor? Hrm?) and joy and so forth and they eventually turn from the light and become bad vampire types. The good guys who are still looking for the proper chickie hunt down and off the ones who have gone bad while hunting for their redemptive woman. Normally, the redemptive woman is one of their own race, but sometimes it can be... a human woman. Well. Don't that beat all? (There is no career path stated for the gay ones. I'm betting that's where the Vampyres come from, myself.)
So our been-alone-a-long-time not-a-vampire fellow Lucien is destined to fall for this plucky woman cop Jaxon. You'd think he'd be put off by her white-trash name, but apparently being named "Lucien" has given him a pretty high squick threshold on that front. So he spirits her off from certain death in a warehouse shootout and whisks her away to hiscastle house, where he works his sex majicks on her and turns her into one of his kind. (He's NOT A VAMPIRE, though. Even though he drinks blood and only goes out at night or during severely overcast days. Perhaps he's just a goth, but the author doesn't mention as how he probably should eat more... and most of the goths I've seen are on the stick-thin side.) After some relatively uninspired trials and struggles and stuff, they get married and live happily ever after. As there are other books in the series (helpfully listed inside the front cover), I presume this is a reasonably successful genre. Vampire romance novels. Damn. Maybe that Night Travels of the Elven Vampire lady was on to something? Damn. Who knew?
There's a significant amount of sex, most of which is rather more tame than I see in a day's run of fanfic off the interweb, allowing for the fact that I don't read het smut as a general rule. Mass-market het romance novels, for any people in the studio audience who've never read one, are sexually conservative, but making glacial progress. ("Now bring me that horizon!") I expect that it'd be interesting to examine the genre (by date -- a broad survey of the practices occurring in the literature every five years or so would be particularly useful) for what it says about how normative attitudes towards sexual practices have shifted.
Anecdotally (because there is no way I'm going to read enough of this stuff to count as a 'survey' of the literature for this year or any other), when I was in highschool and reading romance novels (ca. 1986), nobody went down on anybody. Ever. For any reason. It was like the practice didn't exist. It was... peculiar. (Yes. Sixteen year old me was reading romance novels going "So where's the oral sex?") Stuff that hits the market today admits that people have oral sex, sometimes willingly and with enthusiasm. Personally, I consider this an improvement and I don't see why they aren't marketing it in big, shiny type on the cover: Now with blowjobs!! (It should be abundantly clear to us all why I do not have a job in marketing...)
Modern romance novels *also* admit that sometimes chicks dig doggy-style sex from the good guy. They're mostly okay with this, as long as they explain that it's out of the ordinary. You get the feeling that our hero is going to have to clean out the gutters or have dinner with the in-laws or something in exchange for the favor. This is *better* than it used to be, because it only ever used to exist as rape-sex-from-the-bad-guy, and that right seldom. This is an improvement, but not enough in my book. Can we please quit apologizing for heroines who like doggy-style sex? I've not done, y'know, a survey or anything but I imagine that's in the running for top-three-positions for anyone of normal mobility who engages in hetsex. I don't think we need to apologize for having heroines like it.
Would I have paid seven dollars for this book? No. Would I read another by the same author if it were free? Possibly. It was a passable way to kill an otherwise unremarkable two hours of a Sunday afternoon.
I feel certain that normal women can read romance novels for the smutty bits without getting so angry about the portrayal of desireable men and plucky heroines that they don't have a hope in hell of enjoying the smutty bits. However, we've already established that I don't live in the same world as other people do. In my own little world, het romance novels are problematic on several levels and I read them anyway, sometimes, and then I bitch about the experience. At least it keeps me off the streets and away from normal people.
Today's romance novel is Dark Guardian by Christine Feehan. It's from La's house. She gave it over as a "supernatural sex book", which is a reasonable three-word summary of the thing. It's got vampires and ghouls and such in it. At least they're not Vampyres. The guy on the cover is cute in a "Model is Gay" sort of way. The writing is minimally competent, drifting into florid for the smutty bits, but not measureably more than other writing characteristic of the genre. It's okay. Not great, but okay. I didn't fling it across the room in a fit of pique, so it wasn't entirely sucky.
Our plot: Plucky woman cop (Jaxon) has traumatic childhood, blah blah, Navy Seals, blah blah, becomes plucky cop. She's short, teeny, and blond. And plucky. Have I mentioned she's a cop? And, not that this should come as a suprise to those familiar with the genre, she's a virgin. (This is a trope. They're damn near all virgins. The ones that aren't virgins have never had *good* sex before.)
Meanwhile, and for a significantly longer period of time, our good not-a-vampire Lucien (unintentional fandom crossover, like those flashes of light you get when you press gently on your closed eyeballs, to The Raven and our good friend Lucien LaCroix) fellow who, with his twin brother Gabriel (perhaps their parents were deeply religious people?), are Not-vampires who still have a need for good sunblock and crimson liquid refreshment. But they're NOT VAMPIRES. They're good. They drink human blood and stay out of the sunshine and hunt bad, ugly vampires. And ghouls. Possibly also Vampyres. Anyway.
The primary difference between the good not-a-vampire types and the bad vampire types appears to be their relative level of cuteness. The good guys are way hotter than the bad guys. The bad guys start off being good guys but if they don't land an appropriate chickie, their lives lose all color (This is meant literally, but isn't it much more fun if you read it as a metaphor? Hrm?) and joy and so forth and they eventually turn from the light and become bad vampire types. The good guys who are still looking for the proper chickie hunt down and off the ones who have gone bad while hunting for their redemptive woman. Normally, the redemptive woman is one of their own race, but sometimes it can be... a human woman. Well. Don't that beat all? (There is no career path stated for the gay ones. I'm betting that's where the Vampyres come from, myself.)
So our been-alone-a-long-time not-a-vampire fellow Lucien is destined to fall for this plucky woman cop Jaxon. You'd think he'd be put off by her white-trash name, but apparently being named "Lucien" has given him a pretty high squick threshold on that front. So he spirits her off from certain death in a warehouse shootout and whisks her away to his
There's a significant amount of sex, most of which is rather more tame than I see in a day's run of fanfic off the interweb, allowing for the fact that I don't read het smut as a general rule. Mass-market het romance novels, for any people in the studio audience who've never read one, are sexually conservative, but making glacial progress. ("Now bring me that horizon!") I expect that it'd be interesting to examine the genre (by date -- a broad survey of the practices occurring in the literature every five years or so would be particularly useful) for what it says about how normative attitudes towards sexual practices have shifted.
Anecdotally (because there is no way I'm going to read enough of this stuff to count as a 'survey' of the literature for this year or any other), when I was in highschool and reading romance novels (ca. 1986), nobody went down on anybody. Ever. For any reason. It was like the practice didn't exist. It was... peculiar. (Yes. Sixteen year old me was reading romance novels going "So where's the oral sex?") Stuff that hits the market today admits that people have oral sex, sometimes willingly and with enthusiasm. Personally, I consider this an improvement and I don't see why they aren't marketing it in big, shiny type on the cover: Now with blowjobs!! (It should be abundantly clear to us all why I do not have a job in marketing...)
Modern romance novels *also* admit that sometimes chicks dig doggy-style sex from the good guy. They're mostly okay with this, as long as they explain that it's out of the ordinary. You get the feeling that our hero is going to have to clean out the gutters or have dinner with the in-laws or something in exchange for the favor. This is *better* than it used to be, because it only ever used to exist as rape-sex-from-the-bad-guy, and that right seldom. This is an improvement, but not enough in my book. Can we please quit apologizing for heroines who like doggy-style sex? I've not done, y'know, a survey or anything but I imagine that's in the running for top-three-positions for anyone of normal mobility who engages in hetsex. I don't think we need to apologize for having heroines like it.
Would I have paid seven dollars for this book? No. Would I read another by the same author if it were free? Possibly. It was a passable way to kill an otherwise unremarkable two hours of a Sunday afternoon.
