#MeToo Might Be Ruining Romance As We Know It — Good Riddance
You are probably all-too-aware of the discussions about rape-culture currently happening across social media, comment sections, and dinner tables. There’s the #MeToo movement, the #TimesUp movement, the Shitty Media Men List, and the daily deluge of sexual violence news stories that always seem to have defenders no matter how many victims come forward and no matter how heinous the details revealed. Even the CanLit community is going through its own discussion, with heartening and disheartening responses from cultural icons and contributors.These difficult stories have inspired many think-pieces about sexual harassment, assault, rape, sexism, victim-blaming, and silencing, many of which are disingenuous and purposely obtuse. It is a constant slog of disappointing hot takes summed up by the pearl-clutch of a question, “Has #MeToo gone too far?” One popular theme that I’ve noticed is bemoaning that romance will be lost forever with these demands of respect and consent. The piece “Is ‘Weinsteining’ Getting Out Of Hand?” worries about removing romance and sexuality from the workplace, describing men who have been “unfairly” punished for their behaviour, like Leon Wieseltier, who was dropped as a contributing editor for The Atlantic. Wieseltier was accused of “sexualized comments, from compliments on a tight outfit to banter during work-related conversations, and unwanted kisses—mostly on the cheek or forehead, on a few occasions on the lips.” The piece “#MeToo Movement Means Changes For Valentine’s Day Romance” discusses the “chill” that the movement has put on the concept of the office love affair. One of the relationship experts interviewed in the article is Dr. Carole Lieberman, author of the book Bad Boys: Why We Love Them, How To Live With Them And When To Leave Them, claims: “The #MeToo movement is splashing cold water on whatever embers of romance are struggling to survive between men and women.” An open letter signed by famous French figures like Catherine Deneuve stated that the #MeToo movement and the subsequent #BalanceTonPorc movement are witch hunts that confuse rape and seduction.What these pieces seem to be willfully ignoring is that our views of romance are deeply tied to sexual violence. Romance hides behind the ideas of love and passion, flower petals and scented candles, soft music and billowing hair, but it promotes the same sleazy and dangerous actions of Harvey Weinstein. Romance isn’t an undeserved target suffering from the #MeToo movement—it’s a necessary one.
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When we criticize rape culture in our contemporary media, we usually turn to blatant and aggressive forms of sexual violence. Graphic depictions of rape, assault, and molestation are easier to get riled up about, because they are obvious, sudden, and very visible. Criticizing romantic depictions of sexual violence and promotions of rape culture is much trickier, because if you’re not paying attention, you’ll miss them. They’ll sneak by in soft-focus.
The words that we use to describe romantic gestures are similar to violent acts like hunting, stalking, and assault.
This is why I decided to read three different romance novels to see just how much sexual violence was mixed into the narrative of love/passion, blurring it until the concepts were indistinct from each other. I went to my nearest library’s romance section and picked three books from three different categories within the genre: At The Warrior’s Mercy by Denise Lynn; King’s Ransom: Man On A Mission by Amelia Autin; and Surrender To Me: Lawsons of Louisiana by Donna Hill.At The Warrior’s Mercy is a historical romance about the fearsome warrior Gregor of Roul who is ordered by the king to go overthrow Warehaven Keep and take its heiress as his bride. He meets the heiress Beatrice on his way and develops intense feelings for her. Sexual violence is not so much an undercurrent theme, as a constant reminder in the text. The reader is introduced to Beatrice moments before another character that she trusted, Charles, tries to rape her. She escapes from him and runs into Gregor, who quickly becomes her protector. Even though Gregor is presented as the clear romantic lead and her savior, the text regularly reminds the reader that he is bigger, stronger, scarier, and could do horrible things to her if he felt like it. Beatrice’s fear is shown to be warranted, but it is then dismissed. Her nervousness and fear around Gregor is conflated with attraction: “The lady was far too innocent yet to realize it, but that tension had nothing to do with fear, but with interest.” When Gregor discovers that Beatrice is the heiress of the keep that he is set to overtake, he is dismayed by the fact that their relationship will be tarnished by his actions. However, he is convinced that his actions won’t change her physical attraction to him:
She would hate him. He knew that. But he also knew that in their marriage bed, her body wouldn’t care what her heart said. More than before, she was full of nervous tension when he touched her, a nervousness that had nothing to do with fear and much to do with desire. It was evident in the shimmer of her lingering gaze and the easiness in which she rested in his embrace. She would likely despise herself for it, but she would eventually come to him willingly.
I expected this to be explored in a romance novel, but not written out so plainly. It doesn’t matter what your heart wants—they know what your body wants more than you.
Even the language used to describe moments of seduction are inherently violent.
King’s Ransom is a suspense romance about the modern king Andre who uses his money and power to organize a movie about a royal love story. He makes sure that his ex Juliana, a famous Hollywood actress, is one of the leads. In the same vein as At The Warrior’s Mercy, the reader is constantly reminded of the dark potential of Andre’s physical and social powers over Juliana: “In a different century he would have just taken her—droit de seigneur—whether or not she wanted him, whether or not she belonged to another man.” We are told that he is capable of kidnapping her, holding her captive and taking her on a whim. Beyond manipulating her presence in the film, Andre takes advantage of all of his royal privileges to act on his possessive feelings for Juliana. He puts her under secret surveillance, has his agents follow her every move, and appears at the movie set without notice. His displays of affection are often mixed with rage and aggression:
‘Damn you,’ he ground out, grabbing her arm and pulling her so close she could feel waves of anger emanating from him. Then he was kissing her, his mouth plundering hers, his arms holding her prisoner while he took what he wanted. She fought him with everything in her, struggling to free herself, knowing she didn’t stand a chance against his overwhelming strength but refusing to surrender. He held her easily, her attempts to free herself futile, and rained kisses over her face. But when she sobbed against his lips finally, unable to stop herself, his arms gentled and he drew his mouth away from hers.
King’s Ransom shows abuse of physical, financial, and social powers as gestures of love and passion.Surrender To Me was not as disturbing as the other two, but it still mixed creepy behaviour with romance. This book is about Rafe, a rich playboy who is surprised by his interest in Avery, a Secret Service agent, after she worked at his grandfather’s party one night in Louisiana. Rafe uses his political connections to find out her contact information and calls her when she’s at work. Then he flies to Washington D.C. to ask her on a date. The book is aware that Rafe crossed some personal boundaries in order to reach Avery:
Seeing him today was simultaneously thrilling and unsettling; thrilling that he went to whatever lengths to find her and unsettling for the very same reason. She was flattered that he sought her out, but the distance that she maintained to protect herself and her space had been breached without her consent.
The text points it all out but then continues on like nothing happened.
When we’re kids, we’re told that the boy who hits us, pulls our hair, and calls us names likes us.
Even the language used to describe moments of seduction are inherently violent. All three books describe the male leads as animals going after prey. The male lead takes possession of his love interests. She surrenders to him. She succumbs to him. She is the captive of his gaze. She gives in to her desire and gives up the fight. It’s not just in these romance novels. This is the language we use for dating in general. He likes the chase. He’s pursuing her. She’s hard to get. The words that we use to describe romantic gestures are similar to violent acts like hunting, stalking, and assault. They come from deeply ingrained cultural ideas that men should pursue women whether they show interest or not, and that women should accept that they have to fight men off until they can’t anymore.
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While many romance writers are focusing on the importance of respecting boundaries, inclusion, and feminism, the genre still has a problem with blurring the lines of consent with a rosy glow. This specific conflation of sexual violence with romance is being directly sold to women, who statistically experience high chances of sexual harassment, assault, and abuse in their lifetimes. Over 80 percent of romance novel buyers identify as female according to Nielsen.I don’t think it’s a major coincidence that those #MeToo thinkpieces and open letters that I mentioned earlier were all written by women. “Is ‘Weinsteining’ Getting Out of Hand?” was written by Cathy Young. “#MeToo Movement Means Changes for Valentine’s Day Romance” was written by Barbara Goldberg. The open letter from France was written and signed by approximately 100 women.Women have been taught from an early age that abuse is fine when it’s labelled as romantic. When we’re kids, we’re told that the boy who hits us, pulls our hair, and calls us names likes us. When we are older, stalking, harassment, and abuse are often defended as acts of passion and flattery. If this new reckoning is ruining romance as we know it, I’m glad. I think we can make a better version.