Sexual Force and Reader Consent in Romance
Trigger warnings: Discussion of rape, rape fantasies and issues of consent.
When I first started reading Romance, I was stunned by the genre’s apparent comfort with sexual force against female characters and uncomfortable with both the contention that it’s pure fantasy and therefore completely resistant to analysis and that it’s pure patriarchy and therefore part of a reactionary agenda in the genre. Having worked extensively with captivity narratives and 19th century sentimental and sensational fictions, I could recognize the influence of Romance’s literary ancestry, but still, why would a genre so overtly concerned with offering its heroines the True Love ideal make such liberal use of sexual violence toward women?
This piece emerges from an inquiry that I believe requires and is worthy of substantial, long-term critical attention. I am starting and ending with the assertion that not all rape is created equal in the genre, as well as the assertion that the uses of sexual force in Romance are contextualized by both the individual book and the individual reader. The villain’s threat of violence against the heroine is not substantively the same as the hero’s use of sexual force against the heroine, for example. While both instances may constitute fantasy on the most generalized and superficial level, potential rape by a villain is generally not a rape fantasy in the sense that the heroine’s imposed sexual submission to the hero is likely to be.
Further, the rape fantasy, as a romanticized erotic interlude between the hero and heroine, will function as romantically successful, empowering, or liberating to the extent that the heroine and/or the reader responds to the incident and interprets/values its consequences within the context of the relationship and the story itself. For me, the key element in valuing these rape fantasies (sometimes referred to as forced seductions) is the extent to which the reader consents on behalf of the heroine, not only to the hero’s forceful taking, but also to the happy romantic ending that the couple share. Whether these incidents of sexual force are politically liberating or limiting in regard to female sexuality and patriarchal dominance is a distinct if related question, and one to which I will posit the answer as both.
Authors like Mary Jo Putney and Jayne Ann Krentz have argued that “the male protagonist of a romance is often both hero and villain, and the heroine’s task and triumph is to civilize him, to turn him from a marauder into a worthy mate,” a protector (“Welcome to the Dark Side,” from Dangerous Men and Adventurous Women, 1992).
....
Now if we accept the model of the female reader as passively accepting patriarchal standards of female submissiveness, the argument would flow in much the same direction as it does for critics like Radway. If, however, we posit the reader as active and engaged, as having the capacity to evaluate the repercussions of what she is reading, the dynamic shifts. It shifts more if we make the critical distinction between Romance heroine and Romance reader - namely that for the reader the rape scenario is a rape fantasy in which she may or may not choose to participate.
....
Women are very aware of the unsafety of our physical selves - our persistent vulnerability to violence and violation. In Romance, though, sexual force more often than not rehabilitates the hero for respectful, loving, monogamy. The reader has the choice to vicariously experience that subversion of real life rape, to participate in the fantasy of the hero’s ultimate suitability by consenting to what the heroine does not. Of course that also means that the reader can choose not to give her consent, to find the violation unacceptable, but in either case, the choice is hers. And it is a choice she is not afforded in real life rape or even in the context of the fictional narrative (in the position of the heroine).
I love romance novels, but I also get really uncomfortable with a lot of the "forced seduction" scenes, even while enjoying them. For me, it depends on how much I know what's going on in the heroine's head - if I know her reasons for not consenting have nothing to do with her desire for sex, then it doesn't bother me the same way, even though if the same thing were to happen in real life, I'd never consider it OK.
I'm not sure I agree with all of the author's conclusions, but it's an interesting approach to discussing the issues involved.
Read the whole thing at Dear Author
When I first started reading Romance, I was stunned by the genre’s apparent comfort with sexual force against female characters and uncomfortable with both the contention that it’s pure fantasy and therefore completely resistant to analysis and that it’s pure patriarchy and therefore part of a reactionary agenda in the genre. Having worked extensively with captivity narratives and 19th century sentimental and sensational fictions, I could recognize the influence of Romance’s literary ancestry, but still, why would a genre so overtly concerned with offering its heroines the True Love ideal make such liberal use of sexual violence toward women?
This piece emerges from an inquiry that I believe requires and is worthy of substantial, long-term critical attention. I am starting and ending with the assertion that not all rape is created equal in the genre, as well as the assertion that the uses of sexual force in Romance are contextualized by both the individual book and the individual reader. The villain’s threat of violence against the heroine is not substantively the same as the hero’s use of sexual force against the heroine, for example. While both instances may constitute fantasy on the most generalized and superficial level, potential rape by a villain is generally not a rape fantasy in the sense that the heroine’s imposed sexual submission to the hero is likely to be.
Further, the rape fantasy, as a romanticized erotic interlude between the hero and heroine, will function as romantically successful, empowering, or liberating to the extent that the heroine and/or the reader responds to the incident and interprets/values its consequences within the context of the relationship and the story itself. For me, the key element in valuing these rape fantasies (sometimes referred to as forced seductions) is the extent to which the reader consents on behalf of the heroine, not only to the hero’s forceful taking, but also to the happy romantic ending that the couple share. Whether these incidents of sexual force are politically liberating or limiting in regard to female sexuality and patriarchal dominance is a distinct if related question, and one to which I will posit the answer as both.
Authors like Mary Jo Putney and Jayne Ann Krentz have argued that “the male protagonist of a romance is often both hero and villain, and the heroine’s task and triumph is to civilize him, to turn him from a marauder into a worthy mate,” a protector (“Welcome to the Dark Side,” from Dangerous Men and Adventurous Women, 1992).
....
Now if we accept the model of the female reader as passively accepting patriarchal standards of female submissiveness, the argument would flow in much the same direction as it does for critics like Radway. If, however, we posit the reader as active and engaged, as having the capacity to evaluate the repercussions of what she is reading, the dynamic shifts. It shifts more if we make the critical distinction between Romance heroine and Romance reader - namely that for the reader the rape scenario is a rape fantasy in which she may or may not choose to participate.
....
Women are very aware of the unsafety of our physical selves - our persistent vulnerability to violence and violation. In Romance, though, sexual force more often than not rehabilitates the hero for respectful, loving, monogamy. The reader has the choice to vicariously experience that subversion of real life rape, to participate in the fantasy of the hero’s ultimate suitability by consenting to what the heroine does not. Of course that also means that the reader can choose not to give her consent, to find the violation unacceptable, but in either case, the choice is hers. And it is a choice she is not afforded in real life rape or even in the context of the fictional narrative (in the position of the heroine).
I love romance novels, but I also get really uncomfortable with a lot of the "forced seduction" scenes, even while enjoying them. For me, it depends on how much I know what's going on in the heroine's head - if I know her reasons for not consenting have nothing to do with her desire for sex, then it doesn't bother me the same way, even though if the same thing were to happen in real life, I'd never consider it OK.
I'm not sure I agree with all of the author's conclusions, but it's an interesting approach to discussing the issues involved.
Read the whole thing at Dear Author