Last time on Bewildered Heart, over a glass of Chardonnay and an episode of Mistresses, we discussed the nature of guilty pleasures. The not entirely recent invention of the MIRA imprint has thrown critical assessments of Mills & Boon into jeopardy. After all, how does a Bewildered Heart analyse an ever-changing body of work that responds to disapproval and reacts to progress? MIRA is not completely at odds with the historical canon of the genre, and the majority of Harlequin's product is uniformly indistinguishable, although the coloured covers are a clue to the superficial differences between subgenres. With certain hip twists such as the introduction of teenagers, vampires, ethnics and NASCAR drivers, there is a danger that Romance could become heralded for its diversity, when instead the entire collection of books, across every imprint and from every author, should be defined by their political and narrative consistencies.
The typical scenario sees an alpha male meet a beta female and after however many pages of sex and hand-wringing they live happily after. This has been accepted and unchallenged for a century of unbridled success, and the romance genre had not exactly been struggling before the advent of Mills & Boon. From the viewpoint of behavioural psychologists there is a question of just how much of Mills & Boon's output is reactionary. Women think about weddings and babies, so why not cater to these passions? The company cannot be blamed for finding an untapped market and exploiting its common interest for financial gain. The audience existed before the business, after all. MIRA has given its readers a little more credit by noting that women also like shopping and celebrities, but this is perhaps not quite the feminist victory it at first appears. Harlequin's push for sexual equality is purely market driven, and that may explain their patient wait before they tackle other inequalities, including race and sexuality. There being a separate African-American imprint seems inherently racist. Yet if the publisher is reluctant to lead the way then their role is to adapt to the readership.
However, critics contend readers have been reduced to passive consumers, preferring familiar formulas and classic gender roles. Therefore, romance purveyors are leading the market they created and continue to manipulate. Within this vacuum how can social and artistic progress be achieved? Were Mills & Boon to be specified as a guilty pleasure their failure to engage in public discourse and confront regressive hegemonies would explain away those feelings of shame among readers, writers and publishers. Yet the state of affairs their stories establish and strengthen only help the company on its financial ascent. For Harlequin to maintain its success a vulnerable, passive following could be seen as necessary, and over the years subversion and intelligence have disappeared from the product. Even the supposedly upmarket MIRA offers intellectually-undemanding, superficially engaging stories of celebrity scandal that empower the social and economic status quo. Gender roles are not disputed, the wealthy are romanticised and the world is depoliticised in the name of love.
Romance novels by their very nature explore identity, happiness and relationships. The Mills & Boon world, the one their characters exist in, is alien yet not unrecognisable from our own. Suffering does occur, albeit in back-story, while poverty is a childhood affliction overcome by adulthood without leaving scars. Resentment might linger, but when all billionaires are hard-working, self-made, philanthropic and charming any anger soon disappears. Love solves socio-economic problems and corporations are embodied by a gorgeous male face with the public's best interests at heart. Examples exist in the small sample of books reviewed on this site, from One Night with the Rebel Billionaire to The Billionaire's Housekeeper Mistress, to the likes of Fifty Shades of Grey, where the money-driven control freak hero really just wants to feed the world and cuddle monogamously.
In their analysis of book titles Anthony Cox and Maryanne Fisher viewed the glorification of wealth in evolutionary terms. A rich husband and father is a better provider than a poor one, and in romantic fantasies, as well as life, money is preferable to insolvency. The classic formula tends to show the hero as a man at the peak of his powers, having conquered every aspect of life, with only family eluding him. His idealisation requires he be bestowed with desirable qualities such as determination, passion, muscle definition, intelligence, head hair, detail orientation, creativity and time management skills, all needed in the successful pursuit of a mate and, possibly coincidentally, suitable for a captain of industry. However, for a publisher to constantly value material assets so highly, while carefully ignoring poverty, greed and the harmful effects of capitalism, must surely strike readers as incongruous. Is it really necessary for love stories to argue wealth as a cornerstone of happiness?
Romances are typically centred on a heroine being courted by a hero. Occasionally we see a reversal, if the heroine can know what she wants while remaining likeable. Mostly, however, lovers are pulled together against their wills by cosmic destiny and the sheer overwhelming force of physical beauty. This dissolves characters of credibility, but it does give credence to Mills & Boon's prevailing philosophy that love matters most and transcends colour, creed, politics and religion. Love is the reason for humanity's being and relatively important in its continued survival. Bearing this in mind, should art concerning love be ridiculed to the degree it is? Harlequin’s attitude towards its product undermines the objectives of Secrets Uncovered to improve quality. Writing guides and blog posts merely serve to encourage and inspire new writers to flood the market with more manuscripts and sate the public's desire for more of the same. Big sellers such as Fifty Shades and Twilight do not appear to challenge any notions that readers are tired of Mills & Boon and want better writing, more original structures or rounded characters.
Whether Mills & Boon works as propaganda is not as important a concern as the obvious problem of them continually failing as fiction. The alpha hero and virginal heroine archetypes are restrictive both socially and in terms of narrative. The limitations on plot and character keep authors from expanding the possibilities of form. Intent is immaterial, and not a valid counter-argument for novelists claiming their work is apolitical. The refusal to question and explore social concerns is an implicit endorsement of the world as it is. Authors straddle motivations ranging from ignorance to contentment, claiming that now feminism has allowed for marriage, motherhood and romance novels to be choices the movement has achieved as much as it needs to. The genre may desire to be escapist fantasy, far-removed from reality and thus disconnected from political struggle, but this is a convenient and misguided rationalisation. The refusal to engage with progressive thinking can be seen as willful blindness to injustice or a preference for indecent stories of female subjugation dressed up as idealistic fairytales and sold to women as harmless entertainment. The amount of damage done is debatable. After all, the argument over violence in movies seems unlikely to be satisfactorily resolved. While the effect on readers is tricky to prove the intention of the publishers is curious, especially given the unique nature of Mills & Boon as genre authorities.
The typical scenario sees an alpha male meet a beta female and after however many pages of sex and hand-wringing they live happily after. This has been accepted and unchallenged for a century of unbridled success, and the romance genre had not exactly been struggling before the advent of Mills & Boon. From the viewpoint of behavioural psychologists there is a question of just how much of Mills & Boon's output is reactionary. Women think about weddings and babies, so why not cater to these passions? The company cannot be blamed for finding an untapped market and exploiting its common interest for financial gain. The audience existed before the business, after all. MIRA has given its readers a little more credit by noting that women also like shopping and celebrities, but this is perhaps not quite the feminist victory it at first appears. Harlequin's push for sexual equality is purely market driven, and that may explain their patient wait before they tackle other inequalities, including race and sexuality. There being a separate African-American imprint seems inherently racist. Yet if the publisher is reluctant to lead the way then their role is to adapt to the readership.
However, critics contend readers have been reduced to passive consumers, preferring familiar formulas and classic gender roles. Therefore, romance purveyors are leading the market they created and continue to manipulate. Within this vacuum how can social and artistic progress be achieved? Were Mills & Boon to be specified as a guilty pleasure their failure to engage in public discourse and confront regressive hegemonies would explain away those feelings of shame among readers, writers and publishers. Yet the state of affairs their stories establish and strengthen only help the company on its financial ascent. For Harlequin to maintain its success a vulnerable, passive following could be seen as necessary, and over the years subversion and intelligence have disappeared from the product. Even the supposedly upmarket MIRA offers intellectually-undemanding, superficially engaging stories of celebrity scandal that empower the social and economic status quo. Gender roles are not disputed, the wealthy are romanticised and the world is depoliticised in the name of love.
Romance novels by their very nature explore identity, happiness and relationships. The Mills & Boon world, the one their characters exist in, is alien yet not unrecognisable from our own. Suffering does occur, albeit in back-story, while poverty is a childhood affliction overcome by adulthood without leaving scars. Resentment might linger, but when all billionaires are hard-working, self-made, philanthropic and charming any anger soon disappears. Love solves socio-economic problems and corporations are embodied by a gorgeous male face with the public's best interests at heart. Examples exist in the small sample of books reviewed on this site, from One Night with the Rebel Billionaire to The Billionaire's Housekeeper Mistress, to the likes of Fifty Shades of Grey, where the money-driven control freak hero really just wants to feed the world and cuddle monogamously.
In their analysis of book titles Anthony Cox and Maryanne Fisher viewed the glorification of wealth in evolutionary terms. A rich husband and father is a better provider than a poor one, and in romantic fantasies, as well as life, money is preferable to insolvency. The classic formula tends to show the hero as a man at the peak of his powers, having conquered every aspect of life, with only family eluding him. His idealisation requires he be bestowed with desirable qualities such as determination, passion, muscle definition, intelligence, head hair, detail orientation, creativity and time management skills, all needed in the successful pursuit of a mate and, possibly coincidentally, suitable for a captain of industry. However, for a publisher to constantly value material assets so highly, while carefully ignoring poverty, greed and the harmful effects of capitalism, must surely strike readers as incongruous. Is it really necessary for love stories to argue wealth as a cornerstone of happiness?
Romances are typically centred on a heroine being courted by a hero. Occasionally we see a reversal, if the heroine can know what she wants while remaining likeable. Mostly, however, lovers are pulled together against their wills by cosmic destiny and the sheer overwhelming force of physical beauty. This dissolves characters of credibility, but it does give credence to Mills & Boon's prevailing philosophy that love matters most and transcends colour, creed, politics and religion. Love is the reason for humanity's being and relatively important in its continued survival. Bearing this in mind, should art concerning love be ridiculed to the degree it is? Harlequin’s attitude towards its product undermines the objectives of Secrets Uncovered to improve quality. Writing guides and blog posts merely serve to encourage and inspire new writers to flood the market with more manuscripts and sate the public's desire for more of the same. Big sellers such as Fifty Shades and Twilight do not appear to challenge any notions that readers are tired of Mills & Boon and want better writing, more original structures or rounded characters.
Whether Mills & Boon works as propaganda is not as important a concern as the obvious problem of them continually failing as fiction. The alpha hero and virginal heroine archetypes are restrictive both socially and in terms of narrative. The limitations on plot and character keep authors from expanding the possibilities of form. Intent is immaterial, and not a valid counter-argument for novelists claiming their work is apolitical. The refusal to question and explore social concerns is an implicit endorsement of the world as it is. Authors straddle motivations ranging from ignorance to contentment, claiming that now feminism has allowed for marriage, motherhood and romance novels to be choices the movement has achieved as much as it needs to. The genre may desire to be escapist fantasy, far-removed from reality and thus disconnected from political struggle, but this is a convenient and misguided rationalisation. The refusal to engage with progressive thinking can be seen as willful blindness to injustice or a preference for indecent stories of female subjugation dressed up as idealistic fairytales and sold to women as harmless entertainment. The amount of damage done is debatable. After all, the argument over violence in movies seems unlikely to be satisfactorily resolved. While the effect on readers is tricky to prove the intention of the publishers is curious, especially given the unique nature of Mills & Boon as genre authorities.
