Most people today who admit to reading romance novels seem ever so slightly ashamed of the habit, as though they were admitting to a secret vice. However, the New York Times recently published figures which indicate 49% of all new paperbacks printed in the U.S.A. are romance novels. In fact, romances have always been a form of popular literature, written to appeal to the man in the street or the woman in the solarium, and the man and woman have bought them by the millions.

Unfortunately, the tacit agreement that novels exclusively about love, desire and relationships are somehow not proper reading material is widespread and pernicious. The decline in respectability has been steady for about four hundred years, yet they are as popular and omnipresent as ever. In fact, the academic and societal dismissal of romantic literature parallels its rise as a woman's form of fiction, that is, primarily by and for women. I find this thoroughly depressing, but since the romance novel is clearly making a comeback as a widely read form of fiction I have hopes that the stigma of being "only" women's books is wearing off.

The ancient Greeks were fans of a good love story. The genesis of the modern novel can be traced to their prose about romantic antics. These romances were rediscovered during the High Renaissance and captivated a new appreciative audience. Aethiopica by Heliodorus of Emesa, written in the third century A.D., was the first complete Greek romance novel translated into English in 1587. It became hugely popular, introducing Europeans to the venerable tradition of romantic prose. The novel's literary influence can be traced in works by Sir Philip Sidney, Cervantes, and even Shakespeare. It would seem Aethiopica was the first best selling romance novel!

And what a story it tells. In a plot not unfamiliar to today's romance readers, and followers of soap operas, Chariclea falls in love with Theagenes shortly after taking her vows of chastity as a priestess of Diana. They run away together to search for her parents who turn out to be the King and Queen of Ethiopia. Along the way, pirates, robbers and an evil queen create a series of obstacles which Chariclea must overcome before she can confront her father with his abandonment of her at birth, and gain his blessing on her union with Theagenes (who is required to slay a maddened bull to prove his worthiness as a suitor). The dramatic possibilities and exaggerated emotions of love haven't changed much in the last sixteen centuries!

The term romance originally referred primarily to language. Medieval romances were written in the vernacular instead of Latin, and contained not just a love story but adventures. Knights performed astounding deeds of daring and bravery for love of their lady fair, though they didn't actually spend much time with the lady as it would interfere with the acts which their love inspired them to undertake. Until the sixteenth century most romances focused on the hero, with the catalysts of all that fervent devotion left offstage. But during the Renaissance education for women became more common, and as they began to be a clearly defined audience the heroine's character assumed importance.

Originally, there was no stigma attached to reading or listening to romances; both men and women read them for pleasure. When love was intellectual and inspirational, society approved. Reading stories about love as a prelude to marriage, babies and domesticity was considered too sissy for men, though. General opinion held that love was the proper domain of women; war and adventure were a man's business. Gradually, romances were directed specifically at an exclusively female readership.

By the end of the eighteenth century, women of all ages were avid readers of novels, particularly the racy variety full of secret assignations, doomed lovers, ghosts, handsome noblemen and evil, depraved villains. England's Minerva Press churned out thousands of thrilling tales, and governesses no doubt reprimanded their charges for preferring the gothic terrors of Ann Radcliffe's The Mysteries of Udolpho to Samuel Richardson's comparatively stodgy but morally acceptable Clarissa. Of course, many women wrote books that had no ghosts whatsoever in them, even parodying the overwrought melodramas of the gothic style, as Jane Austen did in Northanger Abbey.

A personal favorite is Maria Edgeworth, especially her dig at Rousseau's noble savage theory in Belinda. Edgeworth was enormously popular in her own time but has been relegated to senior level college lit. courses purely, as far as I can tell, because academicians have decided that there is room for only one really good female writer per century. The eighteenth century is Miss Austen's, the nineteenth is split between the Brontės (the woman in the solarium vote), and George Eliot (the critical favorite). Thus we no longer hear much about Fanny Burney, or Charlotte Smith, or Eliza Parsons although they were talented, successful, and influential writers of their day.

After the heyday of the historical novel in the nineteenth century (fueled by Sir Walter Scott's wishfully tidy revision of the middle ages) it waned as a genre until the thirties and forties of our own century saw a renewed interest in romances and historical novels, especially a combination of the two. With the advent of Georgette Heyer, the witty dialogue and literate style of the Regency was reborn.

Heyer (1902-1974) was the first contemporary author to concentrate on and popularize Britain's Regency period. She created a new category of romance novel; the imitators emerged soon after her first sales and she continues to be one of the primary influences on historical romance writers. Her novels are constantly collected and greatly prized by a wide range of the reading public. Her books are alive with delightful characters, absurd plot complications, sparkling dialogue, and a wealth of period detail. Her books have become the standard; in other words, she is constantly plagiarized.

For those of you unfamiliar with this category, I include a small description. A Regency novel takes place primarily in Britain, usually England, during or slightly preceding the Regency of the Prince of Wales who subsequently reigned as George IV. The time frame is 1800-1820, though strictly speaking the Regency was 1811-1820. The main focus is on the members and activities of the ruling classes: the aristocracy and the wealthy gentry, generally referred to as the ton (from the French bon ton, meaning good style) or the Upper Ten Thousand. A judicious mixture of social customs, dress, and language supplies the attractive background to the basic love stories. Familiarity with the details of this period provides the charming sensation of participating in the glamorous lives of the British nobility, an enduring fantasy for many people. The Regency designation connotes a specific style of writing as well. Above all, the style must be witty, deft, amusing, light in tone, sophisticated, and self-confident; in short, all the things Georgette Heyer incorporated into her books.

Because it is historical fiction, a contemporary Regency must conform to a moral standard that modern romances need not. For no genteel female ever does more than allow a passionate kiss in the library, nor do hands slide below waist level, until after the wedding. And there is always a wedding. In every romance novel marriage is the ideal resolution. At a time when respectable professions for women were limited to being a paid companion or a governess, women had very little bargaining power or control over their lives unless they were either independently monied or married. With so much competition for men, and so little financial recourse if one did not secure the economic stability of a marriage, the elevation of marriage to the highest goal a woman might aspire to appears to be nothing less than a survival tactic. It makes husband-hunting almost respectable. The sad fact is this economic reality still holds true in many parts of the world even today. A romance novel simply posits the desire for a meaningful partnership and a loving relationship as part of that reality, then illuminates the search.

And thus ends the germane portion of my editorial. I've often found it difficult to explain to unbelievers that romance novels, like mysteries or science fiction, have a range of practicioners and are sometimes much more than escapist fiction. I'm still very fond of certain Regency authors, although I no longer read them in bulk. I own something like 300 of them, as I've said before, and nearly all of them are second hand. There is a recent trend in Regencies to include explicit sex scenes, a development I deplore; I'm not a prude, but I adore delayed gratification when it comes to romance. That aside, I thoroughly recommend Heyer, though I freely admit she wrote a few plonkers (as would you if you had to churn out two complete novels a year to support your family). I think the best description of her style is a combination of P.G. Wodehouse, Dorothy Sayers, and Baroness Orczy. She's utterly wonderful.

As are many romance novels. Try one sometime. You won't be alone.

Addendum: Portions of the above text appeared in Arabella Romance Magazine in the January and March 2004 issues.

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