I finally found a hotel in NYC midtown that didn't cost me an arm and a leg. Just an arm, but seeing my leg is lost to my car insurance deductible, I'm going to be quite noticeable in NYC ;-).
Technology is so helpful these days. Not. Do you know it takes approximately 4-6 weeks for a copy of a Police Report to be sent from Charleston, SC. to Macon, GA., where my Geico office is? I guess they are using the turtle express instead of a fax machine. So anyway, my car's repair is in limbo waiting for this phantom report of a crime that no one cares to solve. Paper pushers. Now you know where Rick Harden's hate come from ;-).
We all hate the power of the paper pushers, don't we? Damn bullies. ;-P
Which gives me the perfect segue to a discussion I was having:
After I admitted to a certain liking of the Harlequin Presents tycoon "brutes," a forum-buddy posted a question about my guilty pleasure in reading these books. Some of my favorite authors from that line are Helen Bianchin, Michele Reid, Robyn Donald, and Susan Napiers. They have been around for decades, so I'm very familiar with their works, some of which I reread and consider keepers. Anyway, she commented that she didn't understand about the love for these tycoon stories, especially since they are just like school playground bullies to her.
Here is my reply to her (and I give myself permission to post my own words, ahem):
I understand. It's, perhaps, the wrong word to use; there's a difference between the tycoon brute and the playground bully. Whereas there is a super-protective streak in the former, the latter is just basically into power and gain over the weak.
This isn't a defense of the tycoon brute of the 80s at all, since some of them were rather high-handed, to say the least, where their women's freedom was concerned. When I was reading them during my teens, I was caught up by the emotional charge in every scene--the sexual power struggle between the female and the male. It was all very exciting and mysterious, this thing called sexual tension ;-).
Today, in spite of being bashed in the head repeatedly that women are powerful creatures ;-), I'm still fascinated by the depiction of power in an unequal romance. Because to me, the emotional highs and lows of this type of story can't be found anywhere else because of political correctness in today's romances, be it historical or contemporary.
Some readers can suspend their disbelief about vampires being walking corpses (heh). Some push away the analytical awareness of bestiality in a werewolf/animal romance. These two examples are given the subgenre title PARANORMAL, so that seems to be a silent okay to cross the line in using certain romance genre taboos.
Being a fan of paranormal books, from sci-fi romance to urban fantasy, I totally get it. I lose myself in those stories precisely because of the crossing the line stuff--the power struggles, the sexual exploration (besides the magic hooha as the savior of the universe stuff), the three or four potential heros, the near-rapes and dark seductions.
However, use the same elements minus the blood-sucking and "we are mates" talk in a very urbane setting, such as gabillionaires (power being) and model/secretary/simple working girl (human/normal), and disdain and phrases like "why do these books even exist?" are tossed like rotten tomatoes.
I think, the readers who love these books read them because they have emotional power. It's a different world, just as a sci-fi/fantasy is, but with elements that aren't techy or complicated or metaphysical. It's a world of glamor and bitchy women, or super-snobbish in-laws (the evil stepmother syndrome), or just very basic emotions--jealousy and possessive love--stripped of all sophistication in a "sophisticated" world.
Admittedly, they are still mind-candy. It all has to do with my mindset when I read them. I'm not looking for complication here; I just want my "greek-god" tycoon (ignore all current googled photos of shipping magnates, please) to notice my ice-cold socialite (secretaries are actually quite rare these days)/executive assistant and then the chase is ON! And there will be no side-stories or jumping around from thread-to-thread, it's straight chocolate, munch-munch-munch, till the tycoon goes down on his knees, baby! And requisite with diamonds and mention of exotic cities and oh, a villa, of course. Cannot not have the villa.
I know quite a few of you still enjoy the old-school romance, the so-called "bodice rippers" that are keepers on your shelves. Many are discussed under topics such as "Ugh, horrible brutal hero" or "Die, scum, die!" A notable author often brought up is Christine Monson, whose pirate historicals are, to say the very least, very, VERY politically incorrect. There are always very strong reactions to her books. Another author's works often being cited is Johanna Lindsey's older historicals, which consisted of a lot of kidnapping and rapes/near-rapes/virginal seductions.
Most readers who've been reading romances since the 70s have enjoyed this kind of books at one time or another. Some of us may even cringe that we did; some of us still actually enjoy them when the mood strikes us.
It is an inexplicable thing, this feeling evoked by a romance we enjoy. We can make fun of the elements separately when we discuss about them--the kidnapping by the prince, the matyrdom while being humiliated, the long, long flowing hair that never gets tangled in spite of being tossed about by callous men and waves and whatnot, the heroine with the sharp tongue who seems to just melt with one kiss. However, when the package is put right, some of us old-schoolers can still delve into those scenes and get sucked into the story just as badly as those who cannot resist JR Ward's rapping vampires, even though they hate the brothuh-language, the leather, the inequality between the sexes.
Technology enriching and speeding lives? So not, judging from all the phone-chasing I do and the inability of the storegirl to tabulate without her machine when it's down. Old-school romance vs newer edgier romance? Those old school romance sometimes seem to have been edgier, taking more risks than today's Lord of Sluts Who Are Really Spies in Love with the Bluestocking Heroine starting some School for Bluestocking Heroines.
My point is, the more things change, the more they remain the same, not so?
What is your guilty pleasure book that you just know everyone is going to make a face at, and wonder at your IQ and female sensibilities if you admit that you love it now still? You can tell me! I'm, after all, outing myself as one of those readers who don't mind propping up The Tycoon's Virgin Bride's Secret Baby for a couple hours of happy munching.
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