Back in the good
old days of romance, a manly historical hero could skillfully ravish a willing
virgin in the midst of swirling shared emotional angst, and nobody batted an
eyelash. The dedicated reader was
perfectly comfortable with the emotional conflict she implicitly understood: the heroine wonders, "Does he love and
respect me, or will he leave me once he's had me," while the hero's thinking,
"Good God! This is the best sex of my
rakish, had-every-willing-woman-in-Christendom life...yet what are these curious
pangs in the vicinity of my heart and conscience?"
Readers took for
granted the hero's eventual capitulation to love. Yet the emotional conflict spoke to the way
many contemporary women were brought up to equate their value and "goodness"
with the intact states of their hymens and sexual ignorance -- as well as their
concern about "giving it up" outside of marriage.
But wait a sec! Even though many young women
now consider themselves equal with men in terms of fulfilling sexual needs
outside of commitment, seems I'm not the only one who still likes to read a
lusty virgin ravishment! They're still
being written in all their tempestuous, joyful and sometimes fumbling glory -- and
romance readers of all ages are snapping em up. Why?
Because chicks who enjoy or look forward to shared emotional and/or
sexual intimacy still have the
emotional intelligence to understand the any human contact comes at the
possible price of rejection. And a
woman's gaining the power to act in the face of her fear is what romance is all
about.
Yet, what if our virgin heroine's more eager for the deflowering than her
hero? In Loretta Chase's intelligent,
witty and deliciously sexy "Don't Tempt Me ," Zoe Lexham's returned to England
after having been sold into an eastern seraglio. She spent years forced to
perfect "everything that pleases a man," while managing to remain a virgin. Her
childhood friend, the cynical, womanizing duke of Marchmont, offers to help rehab
Zoe's image in society, and find her a husband.
The virile aristocrat soon learns his tempting, still harem-influenced protégé
is out to prove she'd be his perfect
wife -- as adept at handling estate ledgers as she is sharing with him loving
sensual intimacy.
Desire to shed one's virginity while retaining one's honor isn't just for
heroines anymore. In fact, the
phenomenon of the "virgin hero" is sweeping romance, not just as a device for
women readers to learn how it feels to lay claim to uncharted territory, but
also as a way to understand that some men care about the self determination of
their sexual boundaries regardless of societal pressure. Anna Campbell presents in
"Untouched," the story of Lord Matthew Sheene, imprisoned in semi-luxury for
years by a greedy uncle. Matthew's uncle throws into Matthew's "prison" a beautiful widow
knowing Matthew, a virgin, will be sorely tempted to "take" her. Yet Matthew doesn't simply desire Grace Paget
sexually, he longs to find with her emotional connection he's been denied. His honor won't allow him to use Grace for
simple release - but her need to seduce him to save her life ultimately may save
them both.
Recently, I
explained to brilliant author Stephanie Coontz (Marriage, a History ) that I
greatly enjoy the power dynamics portrayed in novels in which a virgin heroine
is torn between sexual desires and social mores, independence and mature, shared
intimacy. I find the struggle itself
very arousing because it parallels issues many women of my generation dealt
with - and many still are "recovering" from.
Coontz non-judgmentally described
to me the phenomenon of this type of arousal as a kind of "eroticization of
fear," not of being physically harmed, but emotionally abandoned or broken.
The thing that makes
getting off on that fear factor absolutely okay and wonderful is that fantasy is a feminist issue. Ours isn't to judge whether it's "healthy" or
"positive" to place value on virginity - or lack of -- within a work of
fiction. Ours simply is to support our sister readers and authors in their choosing to embrace their sexualities
and to independently decide which fantasies they love best - and about which
they best love to read and write.
What's your take on virgin heroines and
heroes and your fave books that include them?
***
N.B.: Since the
virgin heroine generally never met a bad boy she didn't like...you'll want to
read more about class distinction and the bad-boy hero in Eloisa James' June Barnes&Noble.com
Review column, "When Love Crosses the Tracks." Don't miss it!
Michelle Buonfiglio writes about romance fiction and pop culture daily at
Romance: B(u)y the Book (RBTB). Read all her "Unabashedly Bookish" posts here.
Message Edited by Michelle_Buonfiglio on 06-02-2009 02:11 PM
Message Edited by Michelle_Buonfiglio on 06-02-2009 03:48 PM
Message Edited by Michelle_Buonfiglio on 06-09-2009 02:38 PM
