Romance with friction has long been popular, going back to the days of PRIDE & PREJUDICE (remember Darcy’s snottiness at the beginning of the book?), and even before that. Quite often this plotline goes: Guy makes obnoxious, even insulting comments. Girl therefore despises him. But girl finds herself attracted to guy, even though she doesn’t want to be.
As readers and writers, one question to ask ourselves is: When is a relationship attractively peppery, and when does it veer into abusiveness? If the relationship is abusive, what stand does the story take–is the relationship glorified, or does it have negative consequences?
As with just about any subject, everyone will probably not agree on where the line is drawn, but for the sake of example, here’s where I draw it:
If the guy is just outspoken and tactless, or if he’s covering up insecurities with false bravado, I find him more appealing and forgivable as a love interest. If he seems seriously threatening, belittling, arrogant or abusive toward the girl–then not so much.
If the guy listens whenever the girl says no to him, and any renewal of contact comes from her or is accidental, it works for me. If he just ignores her “no” and persists in pursuit, it creeps me out.
If her attraction is ultimately because she finds his honesty refreshing, because she can challenge him on an equal basis, because she sees through his facade, or because he changes, it works for me. If she’s attracted to his meanest qualities, or if she puts herself in harm’s way, I cringe.
This isn’t to say a book can’t cover an abusive relationship, or that we can’t explore in fiction things that we’d never want to explore in real life. (One could argue that’s a purpose of fiction.) And my purpose here is not to start calling out specific books, to prescribe or proscribe what others should read or write, but to raise the question as a point of awareness. It’s good for readers to discuss this issue in book clubs and classrooms; good for authors to ask themselves these questions of each book or manuscript.
I will venture this much, however, in returning to the example of PRIDE & PREJUDICE: Darcy ultimately regrets his offensive attitude and proves to have rather more sterling qualities than we first suspect. Elizabeth refuses to tolerate his haughtiness, refuses to humble herself to it. However, she appreciates the more generous person we ultimately find beneath Darcy’s off-putting exterior, and their getting together results from a combination of their overcoming their own flaws and being attracted to each other’s strengths of character.
Comments
1 Megan Frazer // Jul 10, 2010 at 12:14 pm
I’ve been struggling to put into words what I’m trying to do with a male character in the book I’m working on, one scene in particular, and you did it for me! I agree one hundred percent.
My favorite classic example is Beatrice and Benedict in Much Ado About Nothing. You see them with their friends, their kindness and loyalty. But they both have the problem of not being able to stop themselves from saying what they really feel, and pride in their wittiness, and so when they are together, it’s explosive. Once they realize, through the help of their friends, how alike they are, that explosiveness finds a new outlet and a great romantic couple is born.
2 Jennifer Hubbard // Jul 10, 2010 at 3:46 pm
I did think about Shakespeare too, and that play in particular!
3 tracy // Jul 10, 2010 at 9:35 pm
Good point. I agree with you. Given my research interests are interpersonal violence and relationships dynamics, I am VERY aware of red flags in relationships. And I get frustrated when I see girls, real or fictional, placing themselves in harms way. If the motivations can be identified and the person learns and grows, fine. But if it keeps happening . . . I can’t and won’t tolerate it.
4 Jennifer Hubbard // Jul 11, 2010 at 2:16 pm
I think books can be so useful in bringing up these questions: asking readers, “Do you understand why she likes him? How would you react in this situation?” etc.
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