Life Lessons from Romance Novels
Don't let the cover fool you.
The past few years I’ve probably read close to 200 books a year.1 Audio books and my kindle app make this possible, I’m not ashamed to say. I read mostly fiction, and I read a lot of romance in all the subgenres of the rainbow.
Romance has always kind of gotten a bad rap in the public eye. This is true of many things that are becoming more acceptable (such as comic books and table top role playing games), but romance has not come as far in terms of shaking off negative stigma. I still catch myself volunteering defense of my reading choices when no one said anything, so I’m definitely part of the problem.
But what is the stigma really? Are we looking down on stories for being about love? For exploring relationships? Is it because we think there are probably sex scenes in them? Is it because we assume it’s unrealistic? You know, because James Bond and Dirk Pitt are so realistic. Is it because they typically (though not always) focus on the lives of women? Is it because women like them?
Do any of those things actually warrant being looked down on even if they are all true?
Personally, I don’t understand people who unironically like Fifty Shades or pretty much anything by Colleen Hoover. But I also hesitate to judge them for it. Those books aren’t really my cup of tea (falling soundly in the “This Would Be Really Bad In Real Life” subgenre but not seeming to know that’s where they fall is a big turn off for me)2. I find the hate for them amusing since they are just a drop in the bucket, and aren’t even the cream of the TWBRBIRL crop. But while they are definitely representative of a significant portion of the genre, they are very much not the whole of it.
And I’ll grant that I haven’t read much romance published before 2010, so maybe it really was mostly worthless once upon a time (my friend Sara has read some truly hideous samples from the ‘90s).
People, even the people who love romance books, write them off as “it’s only a romcom” and “it’s just romance” or “chick lit” or “woman’s lit.” But I disagree fundamentally for a couple reasons: First, we act as if escapism, stress relief, and a warm hug in book form doesn’t have intrinsic value. It does. We need escapes and stress relief and warm hugs.
Second, we completely gloss over every other aspect of the story when we distill a book to a happy ending and sex scenes. As if a book can’t have a central romantic relationship AND social commentary in the same story. That’s just silly.3
Third, there are always exceptions, but I’ve found that even the most fluffy romance books (provided they aren’t in the TWBRBIRL subset) still rely on exploring relationships and emotions and communication and can have important things to say on both topics—even if you’re big take away is “this could’ve been avoided by an honest conversation” you could perhaps apply that lesson to your life and improve it!
For the last decade, at least, romantic comedies often have the romance as the central plot, and a secondary plotline provides personal growth and a setting for the protagonists. This means that many romcoms have quite a lot to say about relationships and how to have them. (There is also a clear emphasis on consent present in books published after the #MeToo movement.)
My favorite romances involve two people falling in love and getting out of their own way to make a go of the relationship.
Here are some themes I’ve noticed reading romance:
Everyone sees the world through the lens of our own insecurities. At our worse moments, we interpret things according to our own worst fears.
Your greatest enemy is yourself.
The mark of real love and respect is someone who listens to you and values you as you are.
Kindness is sexy.
Consent matters for both parties.
Sometimes a relationship doesn’t end in marriage, but that doesn’t make it a waste or a failure.
I’ve also found that a lot of books are bursting with intricate plots and thorough worldbuilding but are somehow just flagged as “romance" for marketing purposes. This is baffling, and triggers some deep and inconclusive musings for me on market segmentation and how it’s making the world worse and has been for decades.
The truth is that a lot of books being marketed to women—and therefore not men—are just straight up good stories and men are missing out. (I have noticed some men on bookstagram and booktube, and I have male friends who read widely across genres including romance, and I think that’s great. I’m also aware that people use pseudonyms to market in a genre deemed more ‘appropriate’ so it’s entirely possible that there are some really great romance writers who are male, and some really great bone dry high fantasy writers who are female but for marketing reasons their gender is obscured. And I’ll be honest, I would be instinctually less trusting of a romance written by a man—but I’d read the blurb and see if it hooked me.)
Books in the incredibly broad romance genre also grapple with a wide range of important themes. Author Elizabeth Wheatley is planning a series about this on her YouTube channel and her first episode tackles a book by my beloved Ilona Andrews:
Social Privilege vs Social Responsibility - Burn for Me
Here are some others (by no means complete list) I think would be worth discussing (some are YA):
Artificial Intelligence vs Sentience/Sapience - Emerald Blaze by Ilona Andrews
Responsible Use of Power - Kate Daniels by Ilona Andrews
A magnifying glass on the 24 hour news cycle and entertainment industry as a dystopian landscape - The Hunger Games series and prequels by Suzanne Collins
What is good, what is evil, what is justifiable evil, and is justifiable evil even a thing?(aka a critique of utilitarianism as a morality framework) - The Scholomance trilogy by Naomi Novik
And there are lots of books dealing with managing emotions related to violence and trauma and fear:
Overcoming trauma and your past mistakes - A Court of Thorns and Roses, A Court of Silver Flames, Tower of Dawn (all by Sarah J Maas), Superbia by Colette Rhodes, Paladin of Souls by Lois McMaster Bujold
Escaping domestic abuse, deconstructing and reconstructing after gaslighting, Gild by Raven Kennedy, Persephone in Bloom by Kate Healy
Exploring the Asian-Canadian experience, as well as the experiences of women in the workplace, the complexity of family, and addressing issues of racism and sexism - all of Lily Chu’s work
The nature of power, love, neglect, fear, and trauma - Holly Black’s catalogue, but especially The Cruel Prince trilogy.
The exquisite pain of love and longing and the precious nature of simple things - The Scorpio Races by Maggie Stievater
Grief, and how we deal with it, You Only Die Twice, by Brynn Kelly.
A love letter to the genre, but also an exploration of how men and women are perceived differently, and why, and is that fair to anyone involved? Love Story, by Lindsey Kelk
Anyway, it’s rarely “just” romance, and I think calling a story that explores relationships and ends well shouldn’t be called “just” either. I’m trying to make this change in my own language, and I think you should, too.
Only about half of them are on Goodreads in case you rush off to fact check.
There is this whole other group of romance books in the wilds of Kindle Unlimited which know they are telling stories that TWBRBIRL (This Would Be Really Bad In Real Life), you can tell from the trigger warnings and author’s notes. I don’t really have a problem with those. Humans are complicated, and I’m glad I’m not in charge of judging them.
This is a pretty important discussion to have. I don't like romance or romcom as a genre simply because it doesn't suit my tastes. And yeah, there are some really, really awful romances that -- like your list -- push a strong message, but it's a terrible message. So it's an easy solution to just join in with the general contempt for romance. If there's one thing I've realized as I get older, it's that easy solutions in life are rarely the good ones.
There's a lot I love about this! Thank you for (unabashedly) advocating for romance novels and taking the time to write it all out. :)