The Romance Ranger: I’m a feminist, but I love a trashy romance novel

Photo by Debby Hudson on Unsplash

If this sounds familiar, it’s probably because you heard the topic being discussed on the brilliant podcast The Guilty Feminist. The idea that modern, emancipated feminists should not be reading trashy romances is a rather popular discourse in 2020. You’ve heard the arguments before – the patriarchy, heteronormativity, whiteness, the idea that women can only be fulfilled through finding a partner, the list goes on, and on.

Now, I’m not here to tell you that all of these things are not valid for a huge portion of romance novels out there, especially if you dip your toes in historical fiction. But I would like to propose the “radical” notion that not all rom-coms are trash.

As a result of all the romance-bashing, reading a good love story has turned into something of a guilty pleasure. Something to shrug sheepishly about to your feminist girlfriends, and the cause of good-natured mockery from your partner.

Well, I, for one, have had enough of hiding my obsession with romance novels. There, I said it – I am trash for cheesy trash. But I’m not here to start a romance reading group. Instead, I’ve set myself the mission to put my critical cap on as I fly through my reading list, and give an honest critique of the trends in the genre.

Depending on who you ask, romance is either the most popular genre in literature, or it has been steadily declining in readership since the boom of crime fiction.

The folks at MasterClass, for instance, seem to have a rather optimistic outlook. In their guide to popular literary genres, they claim that “romance novels are perhaps the most popular genre in terms of book sales.” It’s a notion easy enough to believe, especially when supported by the fact that romances are sold everywhere, from the airport and the grocery store to the wild world of self-published authors online.

Proactive Writer seems to back up the argument with 2020 book genre data, which cites Romance (and Erotica) as the most profitable category on Amazon. We love to see it guys! However, these are both sites aimed at writers, and far be it from them to discourage budding romance novelists from handing over their cash in pursuit of a bestseller.

With that in mind, I looked toward sources with less obvious agendas, and The Washington Post delivered. As predicted, in an article rounding up the reading trends during a summer of pandemic, the authors did not miss out on an opportunity to bemoan the “death of romance”:

“The romance genre, which had been steadily declining since 2012, according to NPD,” Stephanie Merry and Steven Johnson claim at a start of a section dedicated to the genre, before revealing that sales have spiked over the summer months.

As the article goes on to explain, the increased interest in romance novels is largely due to their escapist nature. Nothing quite like a pandemic to stir our craving for a happy ending. And romances, as we all know, have a guaranteed happy ending, regardless of what the characters go through.

So there you have it! Point one in the “Pros” column for romance novels – the happiness promise. One Washington Post interviewee refers to Boyfriend Material by Alexis Hall as a “big-hearted, warm hug of a book,” and that sums it up really, not just for the book (which is brilliant by the way), but also for genre as a whole.

In the future, I’ll be looking at other positives, such as the increased LGBTQ+ representation in mainstream contemporary romance, as well as the way new entries subvert genre tropes in a surprising and delightful manner.

Of course, that does not mean I intend to turn a blind eye on the romances that let us down, as feminists and as a society in general. Watch out for my critiques on brand-new novels that seemingly cannot shake harmful clichés from the 90s and 00s.

But I have waffled on enough for now, so I’ll leave you with this week’s book recommendation: The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue. It’s swoony and heart-breaking in equal measure, and 100% worth the hype.