Folk tales, fairy tales, and romance are deeply entwined and perpetuate acceptance of misogyny. Yes, I’m a feminist, but I don’t make such as statement as a launch into a “man-bashing” tirade.

Folk tales and fairy tales arose in eras when women were chattel. That’s the long and short of it. If you buy it, own it, or sell it, it was chattel and women fit that description. So did children. These stories were told to reinforce societal values with the prizes for good behavior being rewarded. For men, that included acting with honor, courage, and clever resourcefulness. For women, that usually required beauty and a meek disposition. A hero’s reward was the idealized woman; a heroine’s reward was the strong, handsome, wealthy, powerful man.

If you take a look at the pulp romances being published in the 1970s and early 1980s, you’ll find a plethora of abduction romances and rape fantasies. I’ve written before on the trajectory of the romance genre over the past five decades and won’t go into it here. Suffice it to say, abduction romance and rape fantasy have not gone out of style.

Pretty much all romance today echoes those misogynistic values, especially so-called dark romances.

The misogyny inherent in romance makes the reader root for the heroine. We don’t necessarily want her to kick the hero’s ass, but we do want her to find happiness and security. The heroine must exhibit some virtue or trait that convinces the hero to keep her and spurn all others. Sometimes, the heroine’s obedient acceptance of what we’d normally call abuse serves that function. After all, she gets all those lovely orgasms, right? It doesn’t matter that she was taken into captivity and held against her will. It doesn’t matter that the hero does what he wants with her without considering her thoughts, feelings, or opinions, or consent. He has power and she doesn’t, but his love for her gives her power over him where it counts, right?

There’s some illicit, guilty pleasure we experience when we read of a hero who takes what he wants–like the heroine. We wouldn’t dare admit aloud that a woman’s lack of power in these relationships makes our spines tingle. Yet there’s a cognitive dissonance that assails us for that, because we certainly wouldn’t tolerate such treatment in our own lives. Perhaps that’s the beauty of these stories: they’re fantasies tapping into the dark, forbidden places of our minds and emotions that relieve us of responsibility. After all, a woman can’t be held responsible for her behavior when she controls nothing. There’s neither guilt nor shame to her pleasure. She deserves the luxury her whack-job of a hero gives her.

Right?

Even as I deliberate and worry over the inconsistency between the values I hold and the literature I both read and write, I cannot help but wonder if women don’t actually long for the days in which we held less responsibility. Of course, we women had much less opportunity to make the best of ourselves and determine the courses of our own lives. The Women’s Liberation Movement petered out in the 1970s, having made substantial and substantive changes to Western society and leaving much more to be accomplished. Women earned the right to pursue education and career paths traditionally reserved for men by finally convincing society at large that the presence of a uterus didn’t equate to the absence of a mind. Yet feminism took several turns that turned the concept into a dirty word full of negative connotations, much the same as looters and rioters are doing today for the concept of racial justice.

Was the trade-off worth it? Only time will tell.

In the meantime, enjoy the guilty pleasure of romance, but be mindful of what you’re reading. What we read frames our thoughts and opinions. If we allow the misogyny of our leisure reading to influence our words, beliefs, and actions, then what message are we sending to our husbands, sons, sisters, and daughters?

Russian Pride (Russian Love Book 4) 
n​by Holly Bargo

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n nRescued from domestic abuse, Bratva princess Inessa recuperates from the latest beating in the home of Giovanni Maglione, the mafia captain of Cleveland. Learning that her husband double-crossed the Chinese triad, and they want their pound of flesh–and they’re happy to take it out of Inessa–her parents ask Giovanni to marry their newly widowed daughter. The Chinese triad will be looking for a Russian mobster’s wife, not the wife of an Italian mobster. Inessa agrees to this marriage of convenience which, of course, isn’t so convenient. The ruse fails, which forces Giovanni into a violent and bloody mob war, because he protects what’s his… and Inessa is most definitely his.n n nBuy Today:  n​https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0756ZR13Rn n

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Excerpt

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n“We are strong,” Olivia stated with staunch support.
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n“They outnumber us at least five to one,” Maksim pointed out. He wiped a broad hand down his face. “And they have no honor.”
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n“Der’mo,” Olivia cursed.
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n“I have called Sergei,” Maksim said, naming the Bratva’s Northwest leader. “He will meet us there and accompany us. He knows the Triad leader in Seattle and will bring some of his own men to this meeting. A show of force is necessary—enough to impress, not enough to threaten.”
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n“Give Sergei my thanks and invite him to visit,” Olivia nodded and replied. “It has been too long since we have seen him and Alyona.”
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n“Da.”
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nMaksim sighed again and ran his hand over his face. He turned around and walked back out of the room, his bulky, heavy body moving with surprising lightness. Latasha waited for several minutes to allow Iosif’s employer some private time with his daughter, then excused herself to return to her duties.
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nTo her surprise, Giovanni Maglione stood in the room, looming over the human wreckage in the hospital bed.
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n“Giovanni?” she queried.
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nHe looked up and shook his head. “The man who does this is a coward.”
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n“Did. Was.”
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nHe raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry.
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n“Olivia assures me that Inessa need not fear him ever again.”
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n“Good.” He reached down and stroked a finger along a lank tendril of auburn hair inherited from Olivia. “She was lovely, you know.”
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n“You’ve met her?”
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n“Olivia showed me photos.” He looked at Latasha then back at Inessa’s sleeping form. “She married Ruslan the day after her eighteenth birthday. She was three months pregnant.”
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n“She has a child?” Latasha blurted in surprise and then dismay. “Did we leave a child in Seattle all alone?”
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n“No, she lost the baby in the second trimester.” Giovanni’s expression darkened. “Olivia thinks Ruslan beat her and caused her to miscarry.”
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n“Damn,” Latasha breathed out. “How long was she with that scumball?”
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n“Eight years.”
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nStunned, Latasha blurted, “That long? Why in the hell did they let her stay with him for eight years?”
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n“They couldn’t prove anything and Inessa wouldn’t admit to abuse. Too proud.”
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n“Fuck.”
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n“Language,” the man warned with a small smirk.
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nShe glared at him.
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n“If I tell Iosif about your foul mouth, he’ll put it to better use.”
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nHer cheeks flamed. “Go away, Giovanni.”
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nHe chuckled and took his leave.
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n​When Iosif picked up after the night shift nurse arrived, he must have spoken to Giovanni first, because he did indeed put her filthy mouth to better use that night. And she enjoyed it.n

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