Escaping to Happily Ever After
by Sage Wentzell-Brehme ‘21
If you had told me pre-pandemic that my future coping strategy would be reading romance novels, I would have laughed. I did not read romance novels. Sure, I read some very bad YA novels that had romance, and I like a rom-com movie as much as the next person, but I read good books for the most part. Okay, let’s stop there. Why did I define romance novels as not objectively good books? Internalized misogyny y’all. We belittle books about romance because they are primarily written by women and are marketed almost exclusively for women. Thus, they must be lesser.
I’ve been doing a lot of reckoning with my own internalized misogyny since the beginning of quarantine. Did I dislike One Direction when they were popular because I was edgy and different? Or was it because I didn’t want to be like “other girls”? Probably more the latter than I would like to think. What is wrong with being like “other girls”? Absolutely nothing, other than the fact that the patriarchy dislikes women banding together. Finally quelling my need to be “different from other girls” has brought me some real joy over the past several months.
I have memorized One Direction’s entire discography, rewatched the Twilight movies (to remember that those actually were a little questionable), and read so many romance novels. Rom-coms, chick lit, women’s fiction, whatever you want to call it. I have been through the whole gamut, from the quite good: Evvie Drake Starts Over, to the very bad: Losing It. The first was off of NPR’s Favorite Books of 2019 and presents a touching love story that considers the scars of emotional abuse, while the latter is, you guessed it, about a 22-year-old college student who decides to lose her virginity one night to, wait for it, a guy she later realizes is her professor. Yup, I did finish this book, and no, it really did not improve.
Romance in the Park. Photo courtesy of Olha Darchuk
When I began reading for pleasure again in March, my first step was to peruse my ever-expanding to-read list. It is full of good books that consider the human experience, have flawed characters and complex endings that mirror the uncertainty of real life. But my real life was already plenty uncertain; I needed books with the promise of a happy ending. Romance novels were perfect for this. They are full of drama, uncertainty, emotionally flawed characters, but the ending can be determined from the title or book jacket. The path to happiness or the particular description of happiness is uncertain enough to keep the book engaging, but the actual question of whether happiness will be achieved is always yes. In a world where my future plans hovered in some grey ambiguity, this absolute certainty was reassuring. Perhaps I cannot fix my own life, cannot know what I will be doing after graduation next year, cannot even maintain a normal sleep schedule, but I can continue reading about the happy resolution of other people’s problems.
Romance novels are surprisingly subversive. In presenting classic heterosexual love stories they manage to undermine the patriarchal foundations of our society. Women can be the emotionally unavailable players in a relationship, and men can be vulnerable and sweet. The romance genre has become feminist while I wasn’t looking. As an English minor who has read many very good, but very depressing, books over the past few years, it was both thrilling and comforting to read stories that ended happily while still confronting complex emotional and personal struggles. Infidelity, death, grief, shitty parents, mental illness, and abusive relationships are just a few of the issues dealt with in the novels I have read in the past several months.
I have read well over a hundred romance novels at this point: historical, contemporary, young adult, office romance, comedy. At least three followed the “get married for a green card and then fall in love” trope. A unique storyline to be sure, and handled with varying degrees of skill. One of my favorite series is actually by a Wellesley alum. Jasmine Guillory ’97’s novels ask what it means to date as a Black woman, and how multi-racial relationships work, but mixes these important subjects with plenty of humor and good food. Despite the light tone of her books, Guillory’s characters leap right off the page with their terribly relatable insecurities and love of champagne.
Paris Street Modern. Photo courtesy of Qicai
In the interest of sharing a little bit of my newfound love of romance, I present a list of recommendations in extremely niche areas of romance writing for every type of reader:
The Chocolate Thief by Laura Florand
Hot French Men and Chocolate for the foodie who dreams of moving to Paris and treats eating dark chocolate like the orgasmic experience it is
(You can follow this up with her other series set in the South of France about different Hot Men who work in the perfume industry, starting with Once Upon a Rose)
The Happy Ever After Playlist by Abby Jimenez
Hot Pop Star who loves his dog for the indie music lover who daydreams about meeting the love of their life while browsing in a record store
Red, White, and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston
Young Adult Queer Romance for progressives who cried when Georgia went blue and thought Steve Kornacki was the best map guy because he’s gay
Intercepted by Alexa Martin
Hot (and Emotionally Sensitive) Men Playing Football for the sports fan who also loves fashion and long talks about their feelings
The Royal We by Heather Cocks & Jessica Morgan
Hot Princes at British University for the lowkey monarchist who watched William & Kate’s and Harry & Meghan’s weddings as if they were season finales of the Bachelorette
If I Never Met You by Mhairi McFarlane
Second Chance Romance and Hot Young Lawyer for the overly sarcastic Anglophile who’s been hoping for an office romance
Bringing Down the Duke by Evie Dunmore
Historical Romance, Suffragettes, and a Hot Duke for the period drama lover who rewatches the Colin Firth lake scene from the 1995 Pride & Prejudice miniseries to feel joy
Beach Read by Emily Henry
Enemies to Lovers Romance and Deep Family Secrets for the budding novelist who harbors secret desires of owning a quaint beach house in some tiny coastal town
Sage Wentzell-Brehme ‘21 (swentzel) is just waiting for her own meet-cute moment, but in the meantime she’s always happy to discuss the best romance novel trope. From November 2020 issue