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I'm not sure how many of you read romance novels, but I love them. Not even in all that guilty a way, in that I think that that they're quite good art much of the time and amazingly entertaining sociology most of the rest.
But wow, when romance novels fail, they fail with such amazing panache. Today's failure is brought to you by the ever popular trifecta of Big Misunderstandings, Abduction, and Seduction.
The "man loves woman; man and woman experience huge pointless fight/ misunderstanding; man angrily storms off; man then forces woman to be his mistress/prostitute, then realizes reluctantly that he still loves her and marries her" plot is actually a ridiculously common one in romance-land.
There is no way to make this plot plausible or psychologically healthy. But wrapping it in a thick chocolate coating of light-hearted badinage does not make it go down easier.
Because, you know, nothing screams witty banter to me like spending time with a guy who abandoned me, seduced me, abducted me, caused me to lose two jobs in succession, and thinks my concerns about leading an independent life will be cured by sex with him. This always provokes me to lighthearted banter!
Oh, wait, no, that was in some crazy alternate universe. In this universe, that kind of stuff leads me to call the cops and get an unlisted phone number and a can of mace. Not romantic at all. And definitely not comic. Not even in a creepy-clown sort of version of comic. Book, you fail.
But wow, when romance novels fail, they fail with such amazing panache. Today's failure is brought to you by the ever popular trifecta of Big Misunderstandings, Abduction, and Seduction.
The "man loves woman; man and woman experience huge pointless fight/ misunderstanding; man angrily storms off; man then forces woman to be his mistress/prostitute, then realizes reluctantly that he still loves her and marries her" plot is actually a ridiculously common one in romance-land.
There is no way to make this plot plausible or psychologically healthy. But wrapping it in a thick chocolate coating of light-hearted badinage does not make it go down easier.
Because, you know, nothing screams witty banter to me like spending time with a guy who abandoned me, seduced me, abducted me, caused me to lose two jobs in succession, and thinks my concerns about leading an independent life will be cured by sex with him. This always provokes me to lighthearted banter!
Oh, wait, no, that was in some crazy alternate universe. In this universe, that kind of stuff leads me to call the cops and get an unlisted phone number and a can of mace. Not romantic at all. And definitely not comic. Not even in a creepy-clown sort of version of comic. Book, you fail.
