the ask@AAR: What, in a sex scene, makes you say “nope?”
I am reading a book in which the man nasty talks the whole damn time he and his honey are 1) talking about having sex, 2) having sex, or 3) talking about when they had sex. It’s not working for me. For me, when I am reading a love scene, talk of spurting, and ball sacs, and pretty titties yanks me right out of the mood. I admit it: I am picky about sex scenes.
Everytime I read a book where the heroine climaxes on the hero’s very first thrust, my eyes roll so hard to the back of my head I can no longer see the text. (This response of mine did NOT go over very well with Anne Stuart, by the way.) And don’t even get me started on couples who have sex on the beach–ON THE SANDY BEACH. There are some places that sand will make you miserable!
On the other hand, purple prose, unequal power dynamics, and quickie sex rarely derail me. Anal sex, when handled with care, is also just fine by me.
How about you? What in a sex scene doesn’t do it for you? Extra points for examples!
@Dabney: I realize the new commenting format is going through its shake-down cruise, so to speak, so I’ll make this last comment and forever hold my peace. In the past, I was able to click on any of the comments listed in the “Recent Comments” on AAR’s home page and I would be taken directly to the comment. That’s a nice feature to have, especially when you have a post like this with over 100 comments and people posting comments under other comments and it’s not always easy to find the latest comments unless you can be taken directly to them. Since the new commenting system started, I can still click on a recent comment listed on the home page, but it will simply take me to the post in question, not to the specific comment.
Also, I have no idea why that went to the top of the comments. Sorry.
For me, it does go to the comment. Huh.
Ok—it does take me to the comment on my iPad, but not on my iPhone. Maybe it has something to do with the way I have things set-up. Oh Technology—the solution to (and the cause of) all of our modern problems!
I suggest turning your phone off and turning it back on. That improved the site for me with this new system.
Ok—this will be my last comment (Dabney sighs, “If only I could believe that”): Every time I try to upvote a comment, I get the message “You have already voted for this comment” when I know I haven’t. I’m not sure if anyone else is having trouble voting, but I’m seeing an unusual amount of comments with only 0 or 1 in the comment box, which seems lower than average.
We are having a ton of site problems today. Why don’t you wait a couple of days and see if this is fixed. It may be part of a larger problem!
Thanks!
I find the new format takes getting used to.
Too busy for me. colors boxes, stuff. I like just text. preferred as it was.
I will get used to it, of course, if other like it, all fine.
The one thing I dislike strongly is the cut off text. I would rather scroll through a longer message than click on “read more”.
Anyway, have fun playing with options :-)
oh, and why am I on top? is it now newest first – well, don’t mind me, I will learn, just grumpy about changes – I like knowing how things work.
You can choose what comments you want to see first at the very top.
I’ll see about the longer message. I kinda like the option. The colors make it easier for me to keep things straight. I’m still fiddling with it. Thanks for the feedback!
I agree with Liselotte about the colors, blocks, shapes, etc. being a bit distracting. Also, just to reiterate my point about making happy and frowny face numbers both visible again. I think it helps to see that some people have a positive reaction to comments while other readers have negative reactions. Having just one meter that goes up and down could potentially make it look like everybody disagrees with a particular poster when that may not be the case at all!
Added the numbers back in.
Hooray!
I’m going to dissent and say I like the new colors and the fact that the type doesn’t get thinner and longer as the replies pile up under a comment. I find this easier to read personally. Thanks for the upgrades!
Thanks!
Agreed. On mobile it became impossible to read the comments when there were too many replies to replies to replies… It’s much better with this system.
Thanks. I find it much easier to follow the discussions now!
I agree. It’s easier to differentiate replies from original comments, and being able to read more than one word a line on the mobile site is a definite advantage!
Agree, especially the type not disappearing into a narrow line as I read AAR on my phone more often than my PC and the longer threads here werd hard to read even with the phone in landscape position.
it is good now, just needed a few tweaks and me getting used to – thank you Dabney!
Thanks, much better!
Also thanks for giving me my geometrical nice sign back, I know people by their signs/pictograms by now, and find this much better now than yesterday. Thank you!!!
Dear Dabney, can I have my geometrical sign back? it was here a few hours back…. is this a big problem to leave our old pictograms?
That was very odd. I didn’t change anything but a setting changed–I have switched it back, I think. #ghostinthemachine
@Dabney: This morning, using my iPad to open AAR, the icon assigned to my name was a green square with sunglasses. Later, opening the site on my phone, my icon is back to what it was before you updated things. I don’t mind what design is associated with my name, but I did want to ket you know that apparently things change based on the device used.
Ok—now it’s back to the old icon on my iPad. As Emily Latella used to say, Never mind.
This is just a test to see if comments still work on Microsoft Edge, Windows 10. I was having trouble getting the comments to come up for a while.
We can see you!
Great! Feel free to disregard the e-mail I sent you earlier when I couldn’t get ANYTHING to work on the comments. Also, I miss the old system of happy and frowny face numbers both being shown. It helps people see that some agree and some disagree, and that’s okay. :)
Obviously absence of consent. Rough sex isn’t really my thing, either, even though it works for some. However, both parties must be completely on board with it. No doubtful consent, either. “You told me you wanted it with your eyes” kind of thing.
Unhealthy sex, eg not using a condom on the first date – “I’m on the pill” isn’t good enough, especially when one of the people is promiscuous, as often happens in romance novels. He/She has got to care enough about the other person to have concerns for their health. Otherwise they’re just another body.
When one of the people is underage. Eugh. But also, when one of the people is young, 21 or under, and the other is 15 or more years older. That never works for me. It’s uneven, unequal. The writer has to be exceptional to persuade me of that one (Georgette Heyer’s “These Old Shades” makes me shudder).
I am with you on the age thing. It’s the older person’s age divided by two plus seven. Anyone younger than that number is off limits for me.
So a thirty year old hero is only allowed to have sex with anyone 22 or older, etc….
I do think what consent is varies. I don’t need a lot of verbal reassurance. For me, if both parties are happy with and don’t regret what happened, that’s enough for me.
There is an 8 year age gap in my marriage and I have several friends (older than me) who had 20+ year age gaps in theirs. All had loving, successful and lasting marriages. On the other hand, Bernie Ecclestone I find a tad disgusting. Becoming a father at 89 is so far beyond my tiny brain that I want to puke.
I am more comfortable with age gaps when the couple is older. The 65 year old who marries the 45 year old doesn’t bother me. It’s the 45 year old who marries the 25 year old that is harder for me. And the 20 year old who marries the 40 year old is a hard pass for me.
My husband is almost 8 years older than me too. We met when I was 24 and he was 31. It’s worked out but I’d have felt differently about that age gap if I’d been 18 and he’d been 25, I think.
I’m with you on that one.
“smiles”
Absolutely, I think once both parties are 40 or over all bets are off age wise. Everyone is old enough and has enough experience to make educated judgements, It’s when one person (usually the woman) is so young they haven’t had the life experience to understand what a 20 year gap means over time, Or when one person has so much age and power over another.
I also think a lot about fertility, children, and aged parents. It gets complicated.
For me, age is just one factor of possible power differential.
I find huge power differentials – one has it all, the other none – totally offputting. Being at someones total mercy is not a HEA for me. I also hate the king : beggar girl trope for that reason. It has become rare, but in older books, it happened a lot.
Age gaps need to be written in a way that shows (shows!) that they are somehow achieving a power balance. Then I am ok.
I guess, like elaine s, I have a few examples around me where the age gap was there, and created difficulties, but was overcome fairly successfully, and so I do not mind it in and of itself.
And life is so unpredictable, too:
My husband was 3 years older than me and died young, my dad was 20+ years older than mum and lived to a 100, so her widowhood happened late, and all kids were far grown into middle age. No guarantees any which way.
I like the king/beggar girl or billionaire/waitress when she shows him something he can’t buy, like an appreciation for opera or art. And I do like to see him squirm when she won’t go back to him! So it depends how it’s handled.
Yes! In my terms, that is how the power differential gets evened out: she shows him something he can’t buy, that he finds he wants very much, and so it works. Exactly!
“And love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love” – Lin-Manuel Miranda
Spare me the endless checkins in bed. In a romance I read this week, the guy was so panicky about doing anything to the girl that it was dumb. Especially since the chick wasn’t a wimp.
I also don’t like it when either person is superduper sacrificial. I like it when both get off.
@Dabney: You’re right—I can’t reply directly to a comment. I’m also not signed-in.
What do you think about the new interface? Working for you now?
I can reply to this post, so I guess that means it’s working.
It looks to me like Nan is the only one for whom threaded comments are working. So odd.
Nan, what browser do you use? Are you signed into to AAR?
That’s very strange. I am using Microsoft Edge on a new Windows 10. I don’t have an AAR account. I just type my screen name, e-mail, and website each time.
But can you post in reply to another comment?
See how this comment is right below yours and not indented. That means I couldn’t reply to your comment directly.
@Dabney: when I was first trying to post my comment this morning, the “Leave A Comment” box was missing and the words BLOG TOKEN NOT FOUND appeared where the box would normally be. I turned my phone off. When I turned my phone back on and reopened the site, voila—the comment box was back and I was able to post my comment without a problem.
I am trying to solve the threaded comment problem. Oddly, some of you can do it.
If you can make a threaded comment will you let me know and will you tell me how you sign in to AAR?
Thanks!
I can do this in Edge but not in Chrome.
Replying using Chrome
Thank you for taking care of that!
In Firefox it’s on and off. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t.
Here’s hoping it works regularly for you. Keep me posted, please.
These make me roll my eyes:
1. sex scenes in the sand – Yes I just immediately need to tune out the itchy feels or skip the scene (or convince myself that flour like sand exists and is what they lie on)
2. sex in the ditch/closet/under the veranda while the villains are searching for the couple just inches away – not not hot no no – especially as first time sex with near strangers
3. sex right when the person wakes up from major injury /hospital/ trauma for the first time – this is a place for some dirty sex promises, but not the act itself!
What needs to be extremely convincingly written:
1. sophisticated complicated multi-orgasmic sex the first time – either with a new couple, or with a virgin – IRL you need to get used to each other before you go for the amazing sex – sometimes, it works, but needs to be really well written
2. sex in the jungle, the arctic, the swamp, on the super dirty dusty hard floor in a shack etc. – it works for a quickie between an established couple, but as the major sex scene, I just keep coming back to the surroundings and it loses me when I get these images of her hair in the swamp, or his hands on the dirty floor and then touching her – I am not too picky, when it comes to hygiene, I can imagine sweaty moderately dirty people just jumping each other, but the big extended sex scene – not easy
Peeves:
1. the obligatory cunnilingus before penetration – I would not let a guy go down on me the first time, I need to get to know his body, his reaction to mine, our smells and feels before I enjoy that. And so I just cannot get into first sex scenes where it happens and is enjoyable.
2. magic full synchronicity – no talking, no fumbling, no sweet exploration where some things are better some not so much, just instant full perfection of every gesture every touch
3. guys who know it all and do it all and ladies who lean back and let it all happen. (or the opposite) – I want ladies to be interested in the guy too, not just totally in their own head. This can be give and take, but just leaning back and letting someone service you is Victorian. This would be a peeve if a book was all one sided not if just one scene was like that.
A general negative reaction where sex takes me totally out of a story is anything where the sexual behavior does not fit the character = is completely out of sync with the rest of the story:
– All the virgins who suddenly have zero shyness and like it fast and hard, any multiple times,
– all the cold brutal impatient men who are slow tender and soft in bed without any character buildup,
– all the super experienced men who suddenly go all emotional because “she is finally the right one” in bed,
– the shy religious lady who has no issues with instant full nakedness and adventurous positions,
– the Regency ladies who instantly risk it all, because the hero is good looking or because she is bored or or ….
What I would really like to read more of:
– Scenes of experiments, tenderness, exploration – smells, touch, not just looking and lusting
– sex scenes where there is no orgasm, and the woman still feels well taken care of,
– scenes where there is no penetration and they still take good care of each other and are satisfied,
– scenes where they just fool around for a bit (not in YA, as adults, just because they want to know each other’s bodies and enjoy exploring) and
– some hot encounters before they have sex that are not comedy, or interrupted by some outside force – they just take their time, or want to get to know the other person before full intimacy
See and I like the guy who goes down before sex, even the first time. It shows he understands how most women get the most out of vaginal penetration. #differentstrokesliterally
Yeah, funny :-)
Fantastic list, Lieselotte! I agree with almost everything on it, although I think cunnilingus is a mixed bag. For me, it depends on the characters/situation in question. But you and I are definitely on the same page that it has become somewhat obligatory in romance. When anything becomes obligatory like that, then it becomes a cliché. Let’s have some variety!
I know I’ve been a bit of a nag about this in other posts, but your delightfully extensive analysis of sex problems in romance novels makes me want to bring up the upcoming Erato anthology again. AAR folks, we have a lot of great ideas of how to make sex scenes great. So I would highly encourage you to consider submitting up to 3 flash fiction erotic standalone scenes (maximum 2,000 words each) by May 1st. Their list of Easy and Hard Sells talks a lot about the things we’ve been discussing in this forum of what works and what doesn’t. It really feels like AAR contributors are on the same wavelength as the editors of this upcoming anthology.
Reading through the publisher’s, New Smut Project, blog posts really confirms my suspicions. The editors are getting frustrated with some of the generic, heteronormative “Barbie & Ken” type sex scenes they are receiving in their slush pile. Last I heard, they have a dearth of m/f historical fiction, which might be appealing to some contributors here.
So please, if you have been thinking about writing a good sex scene that incorporates all these positive things like enthusiastic consent, communication, and variety, I hope you will seriously consider sending a story to Erato. This sounds like an excellent project that will hopefully answer some of our frustrations regarding sex scenes in literature. Here is the link for their wish list: https://newsmutproject.tumblr.com/post/611800543711625216/easy-sells-and-harder-sells.
Also, to anyone who has been having trouble getting their romance novels published, this could be a good opportunity to showcase your writing to gain an audience. Sex scene excerpts from larger works are allowed provided they can stand alone. Plus, pay for accepted pieces is $30 via PayPal.
Good luck!
Well summarised, Liselotte!
Lovely summary, but – synchronicity doesn’t mean what you think it means.
I mean desire levels, orgasms, wishes to be touched intimately, all steps in the dance of heating up to sex and reaching fulfillment happening to both partners at exactly the same time, no lagging behind for one, no speeding up for the other, no moment where they are not both in the same place precisely.
According to the dictionary
“the simultaneous occurrence of events which appear significantly related but have no discernible causal connection.”
To me, the simultaneousness is not causally connected – so it fulfills the definition.
Of course, partners heat each other up, dancing back and forth, getting pulled in / pulled out of the heat, ratcheting it up higher …. but the magic/ideal/ strange situation of it being utterly simultaneous at first try, it pulls me out of the story, in particular the simultaneous orgasms – that takes time, for most of us, and quite an effort – and may even not be a goal for some – I prefer to enjoy my partner’s orgasm while not experiencing mine. Doubles my fun.
Anyway, could not resist reacting, sorry to be nitpicking.
LUBELESS ANAL. LUBELESS ANAL. LUBELESS ANAL!
That is all.
Purple prose and too many corny dialogues will make me skip the pages, guaranteed!
One thing that grosses me out is anal contact followed by vaginal contact with no washing up in between. Rimming, anal penetration, you name it. Some people love it and that’s just great. But if you’re then going to touch the woman’s vagina…wash your hands, your penis, your teeth, whatever it takes. Just thinking about it makes me itchy!
This. The colon is like Las Vegas–what happens in the colon should stay in the colon!
Just a technical note. I’d love to comment on some of these great responses but I’m having technical problems with the site and it won’t let me. Is it just me? Thanks,
I am working on that. It’s just started happening.
In the meantime, you can @ a commenter to make it clear to whom you are responding.
Fixed! With new shiny options!
Thank you!
Great lists of sex scene pet peeves so far. Here are a couple of mine:
1) In a lot of romance novels I read, whether HR or other genres, there is still a lot of emphasis on heroines climaxing during penetration without adequate clitoral stimulation to make that plausible for a lot of women. And often, they climax multiple times this way before the man does.
I get that this is a fantasy for a lot of people, but I would like to see more examples of the heroine not climaxing mid-coitus and maybe taking matters into her own hands afterwards or insisting on some manual or oral afterplay from her partner until she does. As for promoting realism, I have read a lot of articles lately about women being unsatisfied when the man orgasms with the advice that the man make a little effort to engage in non-penetrative sexual acts until his partner is satisfied, if he is able (i.e. kissing, caressing, etc.). I realize there is definitely a biological disadvantage at play here, but there is still this hang-up that sex must equal penetration. It would be nice to see some of these issues play out on the pages of a romance novel.
2) When sex scenes are so euphemistic, I don’t know what the heck is going on as in, “Okay, I get they’re having sex, but where are the characters putting their hands. And what was… that?” I’ve seen some scenes that were so vague in their choreography, I wonder why the author just didn’t choose the closed door option.
Studies back up your first point.
“Women were more likely to orgasm if their last sexual encounter included deep kissing, manual genital stimulation, and/or oral sex in addition to vaginal intercourse.”
From this study: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/28213723.
I have turn offs, such as dirty talk, but whether I’m turned off by it in a story depends on how much space it takes and how it’s used in the story. Sometimes it fits the scenario or character and I can deal with it or just skim over it. Other times, not so much. I do often wish that authors would quit including the obligatory cunnilingus scene in every romance that they write. Believe it not, some women don’t like it, but you wouldn’t know it by reading most contemporary romances. Sex and what provides pleasure should be more varied and unique, but oftentimes it just reads like formulaic, boilerplate text.
On undesirable terms of endearment, it also depends on the characters and context within the story. There are endearments that IRL I would hate, but in a story I can usually deal, especially if it is clear that the character using it is showing affection.
Like Caz, I can be totally thrown out of a story by internal logic and order of operations issues or just poorly choreographed scenes (this includes fight scenes). I read one very popular contemporary romance author who had her characters making love against a wall in freezing, winter weather. In no way could I conceive of it as being pleasurable for that couple. The rest of the story was full of issues like that. I haven’t picked up another book by that author (it wasn’t the first book I had tried by her, so I realized in that book, she just doesn’t write romances that appeal to me).
Places matter!
Caution: Naughty words and references to biological functions ahead.
It’s not so much the activity but the words used to describe it that will take me out of a scene. Using anatomically-correct terms (whether in the authorial voice or in the words the characters speak) in the middle of what should be a hot sex scene throws cold water on everything. For example, I like Natasha (not to be confused with Adriana Anders) Anders’s books (although they tend to be over-written and very adverb/adjective heavy), but she uses “penis,” “cock,” and “dick” interchangeably. I think we can all agree that one of those words does not belong with the other two in a sex scene. She does the same with “clit” and “clitoris”—although that doesn’t bother me quite as much.
On the other hand, I hate the use of words like “tits,” “titties,” and “boobs.” Perhaps because I’m older, but I always associate use of those words with vulgar sexist men. I have no problem with use of the words “breasts” or “nipples” in sex scenes. My feeling toward the c-word has evolved. I used to dislike it intensely, but I believe it has been “reclaimed” and used in a more female-centric, sex-positive way these days. I notice that writers seems to be moving away from using either the p-word or the c-word and focus more on phrases like “her inner core.” I suppose that will sound antiquated in a few years too.
I tend to skip over anal-sex scenes in book—especially if lube is not involved, as that seems neither realistic nor pleasurable. I always wonder if characters in romance novels ever have to poop or if they all have access to bidets or industrial-strength wipes because everyone is so clean and pink and fresh back there. (Interestingly, and just anecdotally based on my own reading, all aspects of anal seem to be addressed more honestly in m/m romances—including use of lube—than in m/f romance, regardless of the gender of the author.)
Yes, clinical language can be a turnoff in an X-rated sex scene. Although sometimes I incorporate it in a sex scene- or when the characters are planning for sex- if it suits the characters in question. I.e. I have a character who sometimes becomes more clinical when he gets embarrassed or nervous, but it’s not the norm for my writing or reading tastes.
Like you, I would probably be taken out of a scene that used “tits,” “titties,” or “boobs” in a romance, but I’m far more tolerant of this terminology in an erotica. “P***y” and “c**t” don’t bother me actually, and there are some HRs, such as those that take place in the Middle Ages, wherein such terminology wouldn’t feel out of place for me. Although they definitely might feel awkward in a Regency HR… (Oh, Mrs. Darcy, you have such a juicy… oh, never mind.)
“Interestingly, and just anecdotally based on my own reading, all aspects of anal seem to be addressed more honestly in m/m romances—including use of lube—than in m/f romance, regardless of the gender of the author.”
I’d like to add to your insight that the over-emphasis on anal sex in m/m romance can be a bit of an annoyance to me. Gay m/m author Jamie Fessenden had a great article on his blog about how m/m authors and publishers have a tendency to get too heteronormative in their depiction of gay sexual behavior when, in fact, not all gay men enjoy anal sex. He lamented that he was told he was writing gay sex scenes “wrong” because they didn’t follow the m/m formula publishers and readers supposedly wanted. The article is here, and the comments are also very insightful: https://jamiefessenden.com/2013/01/13/even-in-gay-romance-love-does-not-always-have-to-equal-anal-sex/. In short, m/m could use a lot more variety.
Indeed, I always wonder just how fresh and sweet smelling one’s nether regions are when spontaneous oral sex is taking place. I also think about whether the lickee is clean and tidy and whether the licker even thinks about what might be festering down there!!! I would not want to give oral sex to man who had just had a pee and I am sure the opposite is a consideration!
Anal sex is a complete turn-off for me with heterosexual couples and I don’t read much M/M romance. And the other turn-off for me is the threesome. Definitely not for me as I want the full attention of my lover and would never want to share it. Regarding the “dirty” words, I don’t really mind depending on the context, the setting and the timeframe. I think that a Regency buck making love to his lady (wife!!) would hardly rhapsodise about her “clit”. I wonder if most men in those days even knew the word clitoris?
They absolutely did know the word “clitoris,” what it was and what it was meant for. I’m not sure the shorter version was in use, though. Before the twentieth century, the “nicer” words didn’t exist. Neither did the term “having sex.” Your sex was just your gender, that’s all. Oddly to my ears, because it sounds modern, you can use “come” in the sense of having an orgasm.
https://www.etymonline.com/word/sex#etymonline_v_23308
One euphemism frequently used was “conversation” which led to a lot of puns! “Nicer” terms were invented/developed by the birth control movement in order to attract ‘respectable’ women to the clinics.
If you want proof, check erotic poetry. The poems of Lord Rochester are freely available online.
I *love* the Etymology Dictionary. It’s so easy to fall down the rabbit hole of “Holy moly? They were using that term back in the year XXXX?” Or alternatively, “You’re kidding! Surely that words is more than X years old. Crud, now I need to find a period appropriate synonym…”
It’s a great resource for anyone writing historical fiction just as a quick fact checker. Not a substitute for a dictionary or cross referencing, of course, but it’s a good starting point.
It always amazes me to find out what was and what wasn’t used as a “bad word” going back through the centuries.
I think people quickly forget how acceptable really strong curse words have become in the past decade or two. And how horrifying many older people find them. I know so many ladies of the previous generation or so who would consider “damn” to be the absolute worst thing to come out of their mouths in their entire lives. Only to be used privately and in the most extreme and trying circumstances.
I am admittedly a clean freak -so when I’m reading a novel and the couple is trekking through a swamp, crossing the desert or in some wilderness survival situation day and night and they suddenly decide to have sex I am just like “UGH no!” Find a stream, a well or a hot spring first please! You people need to bathe. Also grab a toothbrush.
I always thought if I ever wrote a romance novel half the scenes would be the main characters emerging from showers, bubble baths, waterfalls, whatever before anything sexy took place.
“I always thought if I ever wrote a romance novel half the scenes would be the main characters emerging from showers, bubble baths, waterfalls, whatever before anything sexy took place.”
Also, you could definitely make emerging from the water itself a sexy act. :)
No bubble baths. Bad for the vagina’s ph. ;)
Lol, true but still not as bad as people engaging in sex while filthy.
*shudder*
Whenever I read “baby” I hear Fred MacMurray in Double Indemnity… *shudders again*
The ones where I have to scratch my head and wonder how the couple, got from the wall/door/table to the bed, or where the clothes/underwear they were wearing have suddenly disappeared – logistics are important!
Or those like one I read very recently in which the condom discussion happens but the heroine tells the hero not to use one because she’s on the pill and she trusts him. And they’ve known each other A DAY. I’d have liked him to turn around and tell her he was going to use one so HE didn’t catch anything!
Oh, and the use of the word “baby” always cracks me up and takes me completely out of the moment.
Baby isn’t great. But baby girl always gives me the heebie jeebies!
Can we add “Daddy” to the heebie jeebie list? *Shudders* And dare I mention there is an entire erotica subgenre devoted to barely legal teenage girls getting it on with their stepfathers, whom they always call Daddy and talk like they’re little kids using words like “tummy butterflies” and such? Yuck, yuck, yuck!
Yep. I hate Daddy. It’s a hard pass for me–I don’t like any endearments that replicate the parent/child relationship!
I don’t mind “baby” because like “babe” I hear men and women use it in real life towards their significant others. To me it’s like “honey” or “hon” kind of a generic endearment. “Babygirl” is horrible because it’s something I only hear people use to very very young little girls. Like someone Grandmother would say to babies or toddlers, yuck. I also have only seen it used in romances where the older guy is being really condescending to the younger woman. Just nope.
“Daddy” I can’t even discuss it makes me cringe so badly. All I can think of is Marilyn Monroe (who I do love) saying it in that sad little girl voice. And then it makes me sad. When a woman says it to a man romantically I want to run and hide it skeeves me out so badly.
As for “baby,” I think you’re allowed to get away with that if you’re Marvin Gaye…
I don’t mind it when it’s used as an endearment outside the boudoir. But in bed, it squicks me out.
I would probably be puzzled by the logistics of a poorly written scene, sexual or otherwise. I can’t though think of any examples where I’ve been confused by the logistics of a sex scene in a book. I guess it just isn’t an issue I’ve encountered much, or perhaps I’m not looking closely enough.
I suppose it depends on which heat levels and publishing lines you read in, as well as the individual book. For example, I read a Harlequin Intrigue title not too long ago where the sex scene was euphemistic to the point of making me think, “Um… maybe you could have just closed the door instead?” I wouldn’t say it was purple prose, just incredibly vague. Part of the reason for this, I believe, has to do with the Harlequin Intrigue submission guidelines, which state, “No graphic sexual details, explicit language or gratuitous violence in text.” But within the line, I’ve seen variations of these rules and their implementation.
As a kind of funny eye rolling aside, I’ve noticed the no explicit language rule in Harlequin Intrigue means that a lot of tough characters (gangsters, cops, soldiers, CIA, you name it) never seem to drop an obscenity worse than “Oh, hell.” :) But hey, it’s Harlequin. What am I expecting? Elmore Leonard or Quentin Tarantino?
And what about looking after his own health? She could have an STD and give it to him just as easily as the other way around. That book would be a ‘nope’ for me based on that scene alone.
I will say it’s been a long time since I read a contemporary romance that didn’t use condoms. Which makes me very happy.
Passing off absence of consent as romantic is as close to a deal breaker as there is in fiction.
Less egregious, though a trope I dislike, is the experienced man teaching the virginal woman about her own sexual pleasure. I dislike it because it assumes one character knows another’s body or desires better, it’s a lop-sidedly gendered trope that glorifies male sexual experience while fetishizing the female virgin, and by way of doing so, castigates the experienced sexual woman. Example? Lisa Kleypas comes to mind, which is one of the reasons why I don’t read her much anymore. I don’t enjoy the leisurely sexual scenes with the patient man schooling his virginal female bed partner, which occur in the vast majority of her books that I’ve read.
“I don’t enjoy the leisurely sexual scenes with the patient man schooling his virginal female bed partner, which occur in the vast majority of her books that I’ve read.” I think in general, romance novels could do a better job with communication before and during sex in a two-sided manner. I realize some people dislike an interruption of momentum, but it can get tiresome when two characters who have never had sex with each other before suddenly hit all the right places. They seem to know, almost magically, every erogenous zone of the other character without even having to ask.
Personally, I think it would be sexier to include guidance/feedback during a sex scene as in one character moving the other character’s hand to a desired location or gently saying something like, “Touch me here” or “Oh, I like that. Don’t stop.” I think sometimes authors forget that erotic talk doesn’t have to be “dirty.” Not that I’m knocking more explicit verbal expressions of pleasure!
I’m afraid I don’t mind the experienced man/virginal woman trope in HR because that’s probably quite realistic given the sexual and social mores of the past. And now I will be very open and share something personal: my 1st husband was a virgin (as was I) and our sex life was pretty crap because neither of us had a clue; my 2nd husband taught me more on the first night of our affair (and subsequent marriage) than I learnt about sex or my own body in 10 years with the first husband. And I would daresay that my experience isn’t that uncommon for women who are, shall we say, a bit older though I grew up in the liberated 1960s.
“nods in agreement”
Yes, true, virgins were glorified historically — not absolutely though because even the Victorians were conflicted by their own repressive sexual politics. However, I’m referring to “historical fiction” where 21st century authors are participating in the fetishization of virgins and go beyond “historical realism.” There are many ways to portray realistic sex when imagining the past, if realism is the ideal we’re supposedly. seeking – but then there’s the relishing of the sexual schooling of young women where 21st authors participate in it without questioning it. I would just note too that contemporary romances do this as well (Linda Howard comes to mind), and so it’s not just a “realism” issue.
This is indeed an interesting discussion. And the more I think about the portrayal of historical fiction and/or HR virgin brides being totally serviced- if you will- on the wedding night, the more I can see both sides of a complicated, nuanced issue.
As Lynne Connolly said, I can definitely believe that it wouldn’t be unreasonable for an aristocratic woman to be completely ignorant about sex. Although I would find it difficult to believe that no aristocratic female of the era would have thought to explore her own body under the bedsheets. I realize some eras were far more repressed than others, but certainly people have had the same basic urges since the dawn of time- even if such things were not written about in respectable publications of the time. And yes, I would expect a lower class/working class woman to be more informed in regard to sexuality- even if some of her knowledge was faulty because of the culture she inhabited. She would certainly know about sex if she grew up on or worked at a farm. Plus, the lack of privacy in living quarters would probably have made things clear as well…
@Blackjack- As for authors “participating in the fetishization of virgins,” it may not be a favorite trope of mine but I have no problem with others enjoying it. Moreover, must authors and readers go around “questioning it” if it is a trope they do enjoy? I understand your perspective as an academic to look at this from a psychological and sociological level. But as an erotica author, I come from the perspective of seeing the comforting entertainment value that comes from producing or reading a work that appeals to someone’s individual preferences, whether conventional or bizarre. My outlook on the subject of fetishes/preferred tropes is largely atheoretical. While I’m certain there are studies upon studies attempting to explain *why* someone would prefer a “sweep me off my feet” fantasy versus more give-and-take sexual scenarios, I have little interest in them. To me, what matters is the *what.” As in, “What will make this reader happy? What does she enjoy? What do *I* enjoy?” I don’t think analysis is necessary in this case. To me, it’s like looking at a beautiful, breathtaking painting. Sure, someone could come along and tell me all about the artist’s tortured soul, his politically incorrect views that clouded his perception of women, the political landscape that influenced his work, etc. But this often takes away from the experience. When I stand in awe of a work of art, I don’t care to know all the baggage behind it. In those few magical moments, it is simply enough to recognize the painting is beautiful- and that viewing such a masterpiece makes me feel good.
I would like to add an element, which I only understood reading this discussion:
The elements which have become super distant in our times is the religious prohibitions. And the physical danger.
The value placed on “sin” or “virtue” and the internalization of the precepts meant that women (men too, but so different) felt sinful for touching themselves, and felt sinful if they thought certain things about their bodies. Often, they even felt that enjoyment in the marriage bed was sinful. Only procreation was ok. (reason why men did a lot of things with whores only, they also felt that a virtuous woman should not be exposed to these things.)
Authority figures (mothers, church, ..) encouraged talking about such worries and reinforced concepts of guilt and sin.
At the same time, they also constantly reinforced the danger that women alone were exposed to. Which was real. Being outside alone, or even a maid inside the house working alone, women were often prey. The only way of being safe was being (perceived as utterly) virtuous and being in constant company of women or safe men (brother, father, husband).
All these elements are lost by now, we just do not have these nearly instinctual patterns anymore, in our Western lives. This is good. of course. It just means that the historical romance is even more “unreal” than I consciously realized until now.
So, Nan, I do not think that women would have experimented under the sheets. They would have even, most of them, washed under their shift without undressing fully, never been naked even all alone, and would have a (lack of) body sense that we cannot really relate to any more. And if they did, they would have been “policed” by other girls and women, and some authority figure would give them a lecture on sin and scared them horribly.
Those are all excellent points, Lieselotte. It’s sometimes easy to forget how structured aristocrats’ lives were in that time period. Actually, just people’s lives in general. When you consider how they didn’t have any modern conveniences either, it makes you wonder if fishwives, alewives, farmers, and other working class women were better off in certain aspects. Not all aspects of course. They had to work darn hard. But I get they impression they were more likely to have a clue about how things worked in regard to bedroom matters.
Incidentally, I remember that statistic I read on the Colonial Williamsburg website that a third of brides were visibly pregnant at their weddings. Yikes! They sure weren’t members of the aristocracy…
In historicals, that’s just the way it was back then. Respectable women were virgins when they married, almost without exception. Lower class women could have more experience, but they didn’t marry aristocrats (there are two exceptions that I know of, and neither turned out well). They knew very little about sex. But once that first scene is over with, she can be shown to be more adventurous.
There’s also a fair amount of research that says many women like the fantasy of NOT having to do anything, of not being responsible for their own pleasure. In real life, women are usually responsible for making sure that the relational world they live in works. The romance novel fantasy that some guy just comes in and does all the work in bed and it’s GREAT is easy to understand, IMO.
Oh heck yes. There is a reason why these books sell to modern audiences. Not because women are still being oppressed, or want to be oppressed. Because this is a fantasy women enjoy. A guy who is going to do all the heavy lifting so to speak, take the lead and ensure everything is great for the woman. Put it this way- if a man offered to take you on a vacation, guarantee he would make all the arrangements and that you could sit back and just enjoy a fabulous time why not say yes?
Yes–Maya Rodale has written a lot about this. The “submit to pleasure” motif resonates with many.
@elaine s., Chrisreader, Ms. Connolly, and Ms. Grinnan- Those are all excellent points about HR heroines that I obviously didn’t give much thought to when I wrote my comment about give and take in sex scenes. Maybe that’s one of the reasons why I have never been a huge fan of Regencies with titled characters- too much ignorance about pleasure (albeit totally historically accurate!) combined with an era that just doesn’t grab me (sorry Regency fans!!)
Well, I would state instead that women are taught to believe that the fantasy of being swept off their feet and educated by the sexually experienced man is an ideal. So yes, there’s a reason why these books sell. That’s ideology at work and there has always been push back against it, and still is, now more than ever, right?
As to your example of loving a man doing all the heavy lifting and thinking for me, I’m a bit icked out actually by the idea of a man planning my vacations, regardless of whether he pays, because I have my own ideas of what I like. My boyfriend and I plan vacations together and pay together and that’s always made us happy. We get to prioritize what we both want to do and see and can ensure that both of us get what we need. For example, I’m an introvert and he’s an extrovert and so we need to be careful to balance each other’s needs. If he planned my vacation, it might be difficult for me because he could have me socializing all the time. He likes really spicy food and I do not and so we have to plan together where we eat. I love the ideal of couples working together under most circumstances rather than one person doing the heavy lifting. That’s my ideal anyway and it’s what I try to teach my own 16 year old teen so that she can grow up believing in herself rather than wait for a heavy lifting man to show up and do it for her.
I think the discussion here is focused on what women want in a fantasy and not in real life.
Nah, fiction and reality overlap in so many ways.
That is certainly true. And it is also true than most in this thread are talking about women’s fantasies not women’s desires for what their actual lives look like.
I’m writing here about the ways in which fantasy, fiction and reality are inextricably linked. That is my perspective as a woman, as a reader, and as someone who fantasizes, etc, often simultaneously. I typically don’t find these boundaries separate and discreet and walled off, for instance.
Yes, and in truth that applies all the way through the 1950’s and even later in a lot of cases. So many women and even a fair amount of men approached their wedding nights with no real clue of what to do. And the idea of open and honest talk about sex was not even a thing. I know a lot of historical romances have these plucky young aristocratic women who are anatomically savvy and have read all the sex manuals from all over the globe that were ever written at the time but that’s not reality. And I understand a lot of what we read or like to read is the opposite of reality but I can’t fault authors who have the well bred society Miss be the more ignorant one about sex.
It’s sort of the way it was “back then,” but not entirely. I’m reminded once again by how complex and contradictory Victorians were about gender and sexuality as I’m currently immersed in Victorian literature this semester. The virgin/whore dichotomy was a powerful ideology throughout the 19th century, but it was not absolute by any means. Women writers wrote in dissent on the topic and right around the corner of a most conservative period in history for women, the “new woman” ethos emerges in flat out rebellion.
When I think of one of the most iconic novels in the 19th century, Bronte’s Jane Eyre, I don’t picture Lisa Kleypas narrating the first sex scene between Jane and Rochester. Jane’s in charge at the end of the novel and Rochester has been greatly reduced in a number of ways. Jane is also passion and fire and not the meek school marm Rochester first encountered. Bertha Mason, the first wife, is also passionate and if you read the fictional account of her marriage to Rochester in Jean Rhys’s Wide Sargasso Sea, she’s not portrayed as a woman desiring sexual schooling from a dominant man. Of course, she also ends up labeled a deviant and is slut shamed, and so the push and pull over female sexuality is always there. Ultimately my feeling about looking back on the past is that there is too much stereotyping over what actually happened, especially when it comes to the histories of groups whose histories have been submerged – on gender, race, ethnicity, class, disability, etc.
I can’t read what you wrote above because the comment is so narrow and thin. But there is a difference between between what people fantasize about- and treating those fantasies it as a guidebook for how to run your life. There are plenty of women who are grandmothers or even great grandmotherswho read Lisa Kleypas and it’s not because they are all 18 year old virgins looking for instruction. It’s a fantasy that they and many other women enjoy.
The reason why I made the analogy to a luxury vacation is because I know so many happily married women who would ADORE it if the details in most things weren’t left up to them, including being able to enjoy a trip completely designed around anything they could want and didn’t even know they would want. Somehow in your example it turned from a fantasy gift of absolute luxury to a man “controlling everything”.
I understand it’s not your fantasy, and that’s fine. That’s why there are books for every taste out there. We are all different.
I do disagree about Jane Eyre though. I love her fire and even her anger- I felt her rage acutely when I first read it when I was younger. I loved her anger at the injustice in her life and how she stood up for herself. She’s never going to be pushed around by anyone, least of all Edward by the end. However, he’s a guy with a semi-shady past including an ex-wife and an ex-mistress. She was raised to be chaste and the kind of woman a missionary would want to marry. There is no way she would suddenly become an expert in The Kama Sutra and take the lead in the bedroom the first time they get together. It doesn’t mean she hasn’t got a strong will or won’t say what she likes or does not like but if someone is an Olympic swimmer and someone else can’t dog paddle, you know who will take the lead at first.
I too don’t think Jane Eyre would be a sex expert. I’m actually not sure Rochester is either. I imagine Jane Eyre being an equal with Rochester and given that he relies on her so much on her when they finally come together, and that he’s physically disabled at the novel’s conclusion, their union I imagine will be much more based one equality than an author like Kleypas might allow for in her sex scenes. I think authors can decide how they want to treat sexuality depending on their beliefs and values and goals, and someone like Kleypas always portrays women in need of tutelage – even female characters who aren’t virgins and who have long been married. In her writing, it’s not just the virgin, it’s all women, or at least in the books of hers that I’ve read.
My perspective on fantasies in general is that they are very much interconnected with culture and cultural ideas and the ways in which ideologies are reproduced in society, as much as anything else. Ideas about fetishization of female virginity, for instance, might be fantasy still today for many but are also based on patriarchal ideology that permeates society and that finds its way into fictional representations – historical and contemporary fiction. It’s a popular gendered trope, which is pretty much what I stated in my original post. I wrote much more about this above too but don’t know why the text or formatting doesn’t display properly?
“I think authors can decide how they want to treat sexuality depending on their beliefs and values and goals, and someone like Kleypas always portrays women in need of tutelage”
Certainly authors can make decisions upon beliefs, values, and goals, but Kleypas (whom I have not read)’s depiction of “women in need of tutelage” may simply be a fantasy she and her readers enjoy rather than a statement of her belief systems. I know very little about the author, so I can’t really say one way or the other. But I think it is a mistake to assume that someone’s fantasies are necessarily a direct reflection of their beliefs when that may not be the case at all.
As for myself, I have written about a dozen erotic short stories starring burglars, just because the characters came to me and I felt like turning my naughty whimsical daydreams into stories. Does that mean I endorse burglary? Certainly not! It’s just pretend. Like I’ve said many times before, for many authors, characters and situations come first. Pushing agendas or belief systems is not a priority or consideration for many of us (perhaps most of us). First and foremost, we are storytellers. Like readers, many of us have preferred tropes *just because.* And I think *just because* is a perfectly valid reason for liking or disliking something. Not everything requires an extensive analysis, especially in the world of entertainment.
You really make me think a lot, blackjack.
I appreciate it.
If I understand correctly:
You have said repeatedly that you see the connection between our values, beliefs, and our reading so strongly and obviously that you cannot read certain books without automatically assuming that these are values and beliefs that are also present in our lives and that we endorse. Dominant men, controlling behavior and women wanting that, for example.
Based on this, I have looked at myself and my reading:
I have guilty pleasures (I know Dabney dislikes the name, but they really feel like that, so I use it here).
I love Harlequin Presents.
I occasionally have a phase of intense reading of (soft) BDSM. I have moments where I want to be utterly taken care of, and not decide, on anything.
I currently glom old Harlequins from some authors and find the emotional tropes of my teenage years interesting and they touch me emotionally despite a dated ick factor (strong silent men, women who want to be near-rape-ily conquered and excuse all his behaviour).
For a long time, I thought that this shows that I am still a cavewoman or in need of therapy. I read it as a fault in me. I believed what you say, and I felt guilty or unhealthy for still enjoying those books. But I enjoyed them, still.
Some not anymore, a few old historicals I had to actually throw out because of rape as love – so maybe over the years, I am actually getting healthier? more woke? At the rate I am going, I will be dead before I will have arrived emotionally at only liking Alisha Rai or Alyssa Cole (whom I both adore, just not exclusively).
Now, I just believe that I can be all of me. The woman who IRL would not tolerate a lot of this behavior, the girl I was then and her idiotic dreams of a man taking care of her, the woman who is relieved to lay down all responsibility for a moment, and I can read content and treat it as escape and emotionally relate and enjoy, even if my aspiration in relationships is not that.
Like drinking alcohol, I enjoy it though I would prefer not to, for logical health reasons.
This is a reflection on your statements, no contradiction – I do not wish to invalidate anything you say, and am interested in your thoughts, they push me to think further.
Also, my understanding of what you say is my own, if I misunderstood, that is mine, too.
Oh Lieselotte, it makes me sad to think you doubted yourself because you enjoyed those books.
It’s pretty clear that, across art forms, what we enjoy to read/play/watch/view is routinely wildly different from what we want in real life.
I am so happy that you have realized that you–who you are in your everyday life–is who you are. For much of life, it is our actions and not our thoughts that define us and and what we will leave behind.
Read what you love!
As I’ve mentioned (probably multiple times) here before, I tend to read on both ends of the spectrum (and plenty in the middle too). I love Harlequin Presents with their angsty plotlines, uber alpha CEO/royal/sheikh heroes, usually virgin heroines, euphemistically described sex scenes (I remember being surprised by the word “cock” showing up in a Jackie Ashenden HP—I wonder if that just slipped by the editors), unplanned pregnancies/secret babies/dramatic misunderstandings, all against the backdrop of gorgeous locations. There’s definitely a retrogressive element to these stories and undoubtedly some dated gender roles and stereotyping. But I love them nonetheless. On the other hand, I also read my fair share of very dark/crime/mob/mafia/bratva romance which often includes forced/arranged marriage, abduction, captivity, dubious consent, and what is probably “Stockholm Syndrome”/“Lima Syndrome” outcomes. I’m old enough to know what I like and what I want to read—and I’m old enough to claim it and not feel the need to justify my preferences. I know the difference between fantasy and reality, between fiction and non-fiction, and between what I enjoy reading and what I would never want myself or any other woman to actually experience. The fact is, we like what we like when it comes to what we read.
Well stated, DiscoDollyDeb.
“I remember being surprised by the word “cock” showing up in a Jackie Ashenden HP—I wonder if that just slipped by the editors” I wonder if this has anything to do with the fact Ms. Ashenden also writes a number of books for the Dare line. Perhaps the editor had a bit of a mix-up from reading fatigue. :)
Well said! While there are certain tropes or things that don’t work for me I am very sensitive to anything that seems like people policing other people’s tastes or saying something is “bad”. I think women are being told constantly they need to “think this” or “like this” they really don’t need it in their fantasy lives. Your taste and what brings you joy is subjective and a real escape from every day life. I never want to see women treating their reading like a diet. Forcing themselves to read what someone said was “better” for them rather than what is satisfying. Like what you like and cut yourself some slack. You deserve it.
All part of growing up – thank you, the sympathy is wonderful! Appreciate!
@Lieselotte – I think like a lot of readers on romance sites, I too grew up reading the forced seductions/rapey narratives of romances of previous decades and found them attractive and romantic. They were filled with charismatic and beautiful people and they incorporated ideas that are supposed to be sexy and romantic.
Later in school I found myself gravitating toward the study of popular culture because we rarely slow down to consider the ways ideologies about race, gender, sexuality, and class are reproduced in texts ranging from advertisements to books to television shows and music. We are surrounded by messages we don’t even know we’re receiving. I also became a feminist in college, and that shaped how I viewed many of the ideas about women in particular our society.
So learning more from listening to different opinions on a topic is a good thing, I think. Thinking critically about how people and groups are represented in our culture is also a good thing. For me, it’s not about feeling bad or good about ourselves in any moralistic sense when we examine why a book or idea works for us on an individual level, it’s about contemplating the complexity of ideas that surround us and why they are popular or powerful. If I had to boil it down to a few words, critical thinking probably sums it for me.
I would note too that just as it can be interesting and informative to understand the popularity of virgins in romances, or even the enduring popularity of the Cinderella story in romance, there are hugely popular competing narratives that are popular today and that we can ask the same questions. What is the appeal of Alyssa Cole or Alisha Rai if those are particularly “woke” authors for many? I feel a definite and gargantuan shift in romance writing, especially over the past several years, that I write about in my professional work because I think it’s fascinating to see the disruptions taking place and to speculate on where they will take us. Hope that answers some of the questions you asked me.
Thanks for reading my post!
Yes, I can relate to all you say.
This is similar to my journey, too.
I notice, I analyze, I think, I discuss. I do a lot to just see and call out some painful patterns, norms, laws etc. that is important to me.
It does not stop me from enjoying “caveperson” romance, and I make a difference between that and my serious views and the evolution of norms I feel I need to contribute to,
I am not willing to deny myself the pleasure of unwoke romance if it does please me still. And I allow myself to just enjoy them, and accept that I have not completely integrated my careful views on women and society into my emotional makeup.
A curiosity remains: do you still enjoy unwoke books? Or have they lost their pull because you only see the unpleasant norms or patterns underlying them?
Thank you for reading and thoughtfully replying to my posts, too. I like to read and think it over.
Ha, yes, I can still enjoy “unwoke” pop culture. Years ago I went to see the movie, Love Actually, at a theater with a friend and loved it. I still do and just saw it again with my niece over winter break. She had never seen it before. It’s funny and so romantic and heartwarming and with such a great cast. Not long after I first saw it though, I read some scathing feminist criticism of the way in which female characters are treated in the film and the points the authors made really gave me pause. Did Hugh Grant really have to “relocate” his secretary because he crushed on her? Of course today, that could be a huge HR disaster. Do nearly all the romances need to be rooted in unequal power dynamics? I get it and am glad that I read reviewers’ thoughts. They informed me better. I still enjoy the movie and have re-watched it so many times, but I do see it with a side eye on the gender politics of it. Like you, I like to think and I like different perspectives on issues.
:-)
Since you asked for examples, Dabney, I was reading romance reviews on another site, and I came across this quote :
“Condom,” she gasped, wanting to grab his hips and pull him in, to fill this terrible emptiness inside her. He hesitated, just for a moment, and then pushed in, so big, so hard that she almost felt choked, drowning in sensation.
He rested for a moment, inside her, around her, and her skin felt like it would burst into flames. “I don’t have one,” he whispered in her ear. “I didn’t want to be tempted.”
This guarantees I will never read the book. If authors don’t want to write about contraception, that’s okay (unless pregnancy results and everyone is stunned – stunned, I tell you!), But don’t have the hero and heroine acknowledging they should be safe and going ahead anyway.
And most importantly, don’t have the heroine ask for protection and the hero ignore her. I don’t care what his reasons are. If he can’t be bothered to look out for her health and respect her wishes about sex, I’m not interested in reading about him.
“unless pregnancy results and everyone is stunned – stunned, I tell you!” As an addendum to that, I find a lot of historical fiction books and series annoying in their penchant for overly convenient plot pregnancies- or lack thereof. For a specific example, Orry Main (Patrick Swayze) and Madeline (Lesley Ann Down) in the Civil War miniseries “North and South” have a passionate affair for the longest time. Madeline doesn’t get pregnant by Orry or her husband, Justin, until it is just perfect for the plot. In an era before reliable birth control, especially when we know her nasty, abusive, rapist husband wants heirs and has impregnated several slaves on the plantation, Madeline doesn’t get pregnant until near the end of the story after all that sex from two virile men- and, of course, it’s Orry’s baby? Give me a break. Similar thing happened in the book “Band of Angels.” Sexually active heroine didn’t get pregnant until just the right moment for plot reasons. There isn’t even so much as a pregnancy scare in either story! You would think these heroines would at least be worried they might be pregnant after so much (presumably) unprotected sex. Ugh…
And anyone who has studied history knows that unwanted pregnancies were one of the biggest problems for women- whose number one cause of death for pretty much every century until the present one was childbirth.
There are some sad stories documented of frontier wives who literally left their husbands because the men went mad because the women stopped having sex with them (because they couldn’t take all the pregnancies and miscarriages).
Not to mention the fact that an illegitimate child was a life destroyer for women up well into the 20th century. Both Jack Nicholson and Bobby Darin were raised by their grandmothers -thinking their Mom was their sister. All because of the stigma of the unwed mother.