Something I’ve never seen (at least in a historical)
Posted by CM under Romancery on Sat 10 Feb 2007
‘ve been thinking about the various ways that people can be internally fucked up. I’ve seen quite a few of these in romance novels, although they’re relatively rare.
One of the more common fucked-up tropes is the man or the woman who was physically (or sometimes verbally) abused by a husband, a father, a mother. I have never, ever seen a portrayal of that abuse that accurately mirrors abuse in reality. Maybe someone out there can point to a book that does abuse right, but I doubt it.
There are two things that set romance-abuse, at least those that I’ve read, apart from the cycle of abuse in real life, and one other thing that I’ve seen half the time. First, in the romance land, the abuser is all bad through and through. He (and I use “he” because it’s rare that a woman is portrayed as an abuser) is always evil. He’s verbally cruel. He beats with impunity, thinks the child/wife has the devil in him. He feels neither shame nor guilt about his actions. He never promises not to do it again. He never breaks down and cries. He never says he can’t help it. He’s just bad. This is almost universally true–can anyone think of a story where it’s otherwise?
Second, in the romance world, the abused person always hates the abuser. Often, the abuse explains why the hero can’t trust people–because he never knew love, and because he doesn’t believe in it.
A third thing crops up sometimes in romance novels (but not always) and nearly always in real life: the abused person believes the abuse is his or her fault, and that if only he’d done the right thing–if only he’d brought his beer faster, if only he’d kept his mouth shut, if only he’d managed better–it wouldn’t have happened.
Unfortunately, in real life, abuse is not so clean. For a number of reasons, I’ve been thinking about domestic violence lately. Domestic violence cases are really, really hard to prosecute, because the spouse will almost never testify. In some cases, it’s fear. But in many cases, it’s because the woman in question (or the man–women can, and sometimes are, the abusers) believes that she’s in love, that he loves her, and that if only she could just get it right the next time, it’ll stop.
Abusers often believe they love their victims. They’ll beat their wives and, the next day, go out and buy her expensive gifts, treat her lovingly, apologize profusely and say it’ll never happen again. Abuse is hell, both for the abuser and the abused. It’s a cycle, and it’s a dark, dark cycle for both parties. Not that I’m trying to justify the abuser at all; there’s no excuse for that sort of behavior. But we can understand the behavior. Abusers aren’t inhuman. They are just very, very fucked up. Abusers very rarely take pleasure in causing others pain. They lash out, and quite often they feel incredible remorse. They just keep doing it.
It’s one of the most horrific parts of our society, and it’s something I’ve never seen a historical novel grapple with: abuse isn’t just about physical pain and lacking control of your life. It’s about women who believe they love a man, men who believe they love a woman, and escalating violence that has no rational justification. Abusers aren’t all bad, and they aren’t inhuman inflicters of violence. In fact, that’s part of what makes it so horrific. It’s easy to walk away from the devil. It’s hard when you care about him, and when he can be so wonderful one minute and then turn into a demon the next, and afterwards he sobs his heart out and says he’s sorry and says he’ll never hit you again and it was a mistake.
I’ve never seen a romance novel grapple with this (admittedly, I read mostly historicals). There are novels that deal with abuse, but I’ve never seen one delve into the ins and outs of truly abusive relationships.
And I’m wondering: why is that? Or am I wrong?
Part of it, I think, is that it’s really hard to save a character–save both characters–who is that fucked up.
As we have long discovered in our society.









February 10th, 2007 at 5:01 pm
Posts like this make me really want to read whatever novel you come up with, Courtney. Evil-all-the-time villains are easier to write, which is probably why they’re so prevalent.
I’m trying to think of a historical romance that has these more complicated, even compromised, characters in it, and nothing comes to mind. I can’t even think of a contemporary or paranormal romance like that. I may just be blanking.
February 11th, 2007 at 10:38 am
I just finished reading Teresa Medeiros’ re-release Thief of Hearts, which fits your blog’s theme perfectly. The father, a famous Navy officer, is the villain, who has cowed and verbally abused his daughter, restricting every hour of her day. She barely chafes under his reign, and places blame upon herself because her mother was unfaithful to her father, not to mention the fact that her mother died in childbirth. Without giving out spoilers, everything does get resolved, the wicked are punished and the guy gets the girl, but TM was smart enough to include this one paragraph in the 424-page book.
“There were no carpets or tapestries to absorb the sound. The hall threw back a barren echo, giving him the unsettled impression that something more important than his breakfast had gone missing. The Admiral despised feeling unsettled. When every mundane detail of his daily existence wasn’t carefully under his control, he suffered from the same jittery sensation he used to get while dodging his father’s drunken blows and shouted jeers that he would never amount to anything.”
Key here is that the abuser has nearly always been abused him/herself. And in a 300-odd- page book set pre-Freud, most writers don’t have time or expertise to create anything but “wicked stepmother/leering guardian” scenarios. The very black-and-whiteness of the romance genre is its major appeal. Real life is pretty gray. And grim.
February 11th, 2007 at 11:19 am
Great blog!
Didn’t Victoria Alexander’s A Little Bit Wicked deal with this theme?
Off the top of my head, the only other ones I can come up with are:
Rachel from SEP’s Dream a Little Dream also comes to mind in terms of emotional/verbal abuse.
Phillip in JQ’s To Sir Phillip With Love is worried that he will become his father and physically abuse his children.
February 11th, 2007 at 11:53 am
Hm. I don’t buy that the major appeal of romance is its black-and-whiteness, or that a 300-page novel doesn’t have time to explore a complex relationship with an abusive person.
I rather think the bigger problem is that women who really DO suffer from abuse are not terribly sympathetic characters. These are the women that many of us say, “Why don’t you just leave him already?” And we don’t understand when she stands up for him, and blatantly lies to keep him out of jail.
I suspect that has far more to do with this than anything else. In some ways, these women have had their spines beaten out of them. And it’s hard to write a book where the reader loves her.
February 11th, 2007 at 1:31 pm
Sara, you’re right - A Little Bit Wicked does handle this issue pretty realistically. The widowed heroine (was it Judith?) was married to a very charismatic, tempermental artist whom she loved, but who grew increasingly abusive.
But I’m also getting Maggie’s point that the appeal of the genre is that it doesn’t give a too-realistic portrayal of abuse, or of lots of issues. Like erectile dysfunction or veneral disease or the horrible social inequalities that allowed these lords and ladies to pursue lives of leisure in the first place.
There’s also the risk of trivializing the issue by placing it in the standard romance formula. I’m sure a skilled author could pull it off, but it has the potential to go very wrong. It could easily be read as saying, all she needs to snap her out of that abuse cycle is the right guy and a little lovin’.
You already know I recently read a book which shall remain nameless, in which the heroine had been raped - and the juxtaposition of her lingering trauma and the “romance” that was unfolding between her and the hero just made me ill. I didn’t finish the book.
February 11th, 2007 at 4:28 pm
Honestly, I read A Little Bit Wicked, but I barely remember it. It just didn’t stick in my mind. Hm. Maybe I should take another look.
Yes, Tessa, that’s the other problem with it. You’d not only have to write the character in a way that makes her accessible, you’d have to write it in such a way that it’s not love that literally heals her. It would be a damned hard book to write.
I take the point, to some degree, that lots of stuff gets glossed over in romance novels. But I think that every novel gets to choose one or two things NOT to gloss over, and if you gloss over EVERYTHING, there won’t be much depth to the novel. You can’t be 100% realistic all the time. But you can certainly choose–and in a sense, have to choose–what to be realistic about. And so every novel seems to choose one or two things to really get in detail. If you don’t, you have a novel that’s pure fluff.
And so in some novels you deal with the consequences of sexual activity (pregnancy) while in others, it’s conveniently forgotten. In some novels, you do get into horrible social inequalities–in others, it’s a background fact. You can’t address all of them at once, of course, but most novels will pick at least one–often some element of one of the main character’s past–and present that particular bit of truth as relatively unvarnished. There are certainly romance novels where venereal disease plays a role (often in terms of the villain–losing your mind was one of the effects of some common VD), and others where erectile dysfunction is a motivation.
So you get to pick your poison. You don’t have to pick all the poisons in the world, and you probably shouldn’t. But you have to pick at least one poison.
So my question was: why is this particular flavor of poison–the desperate psychology of the abused victim, rather than the abuser–so rare?
February 12th, 2007 at 12:24 am
Honestly, the only bit about A Little Bit Wicked that stuck out for me was the realistic portrayal of abuse. Other than that, I just remember being annoyed that the phrase “a little bit wicked” popped up on every other page. Enough already!
February 12th, 2007 at 5:18 pm
My first marriage was not abusive. . . but my ex’s problems and mental health status were cyclical, as I assume abusive is. Truthfully, it ends up not being just one person’s problem anymore (I think one of the comments pointed that out) and is heartbreaking for both parties. However, for fictional portrayal to work, I think you have to use the character that you can create the most sympathy for.
I don’t know that romance would work well for reformed abuser characters. It would be too easy for it to appear that the love of the right person “cured” the problem. . .when that’s FAR from the case. . .I know in my case, I carried around a lot of baggage from my marriage that I needed to purge and heal from before I could even think about forging a lasting relationship with anyone else.