Last night, Dr. Feelgood, my friend Ann and I watched The Man Who Knew Too Much. I had seen it in college and loved it. Morocco! Que Sera Sera! Jimmy and Doris!
I had forgotten, however, about the scene in which, fairly early on in the film, Jimmy Stewart’s character–he’s a surgeon–forces sedatives on his wife–Doris Day–so that she won’t freak out when he tells her their son is missing. When she wakes up, Jo (the wife), is completely over it. I was not. It colored Ben’s (the husband) character for me. I liked him less than I would have had that scene not occurred.
For me, drugging the one you love so they’ll be calmer when you give them bad news is a hard pass. Adultery or forced seduction, not so much.
I know I’m in a minority that adultery–acknowledged, never repeated, and forgiven–isn’t a no go for me. We’re all different and, as my mom says, it takes all kinds to make a world.
How about for you? What do you find unforgivable, throw the book on the floor, NO WAY in a lead? Have you ever read a romance with that sin in it that you did like? And are your verbotenes the same no matter what the gender of a lead?
I can think of a number of reasons why I will metaphorically throw a book across the room but, in addressing Dabney’s question, if the main leads speak to each other in a sarcastic, humiliating way then I cannot for the life of me see how a genuine HEA or event HEFN can be achieved. Leads who humiliate (verbally, sexually, in the workplace, etc) one another are not mature people and don’t fit into my Universe of the Acceptable.
I can’t stand martyrdom. Over the years I have wanted to give various historical heroines a slap around the head since I know their authors won’t let them die in a ditch as they seem determined to do. Instead they get the HEA they don’t deserve and I find that I don’t care by then. (I don’t read historical romance anymore.)
i also think it’s unforgivable to find yourself pregnant and not tell the father of your child, provided that he’s not a monster. Again, not a trope I subject myself to anymore, but I could never understand how a male lead could forgive in this situation, when he finds out how much of his child’s life he has missed.
Totally agree about keeping a child’s existance a secret. It’s wrong on so many levels, for the dad and for the child. I could see some narrowly defined circumstances where I could accept it, but the reasons would have to be really well developed.
Martyrdom is similar to “I’m not good enough for your love,” a trope I dislike.
The “I’m no good for you” trope is like the loss of agency I wrote about above. If you decide for the other person, you disrespect them at the very least. It’s also very close to gaslighting.
I have yet to encounter people who felt this way in real life and let it stop them from pursuing a love interest. Not that romance is wildly realistic, but if the trope doesn’t match anyone I’ve ever met, it’s a little hard to buy.
It is typically adultery, but I’ve liked several Sandra Brown books with this trope (Envy, Mean Streak, Rainwater). I’ve also just absolutely hated several of hers that had a cheating h/h (Out of Nowhere ). For me, it really depends on how the whole thing is presented. Have me believe the characters had solid, decent reasons for their behavior.
Agreed.
For me, it’s not so much actions, because you can always come to recognize how badly you behaved and attempt to reform. But I can’t take stupidity, especially when it masquerades as self-sacrifice—the martyrdom oceanjasper mentioned.
Rape, adultery,
I guess I think definitions of rape are somewhat fluid these days. Is it rape unless it’s yes means yes? If both parties are very pleased with the outcome, does it matter how much consent existed when an interaction began? There are books I like that I suspect others would consider lacking enough affirmative consent.
The power dynamic is everything to me. If one person has the power in a relationship, then it has to be yes mean yes, and nothing less than that. Otherwise, no matter hoo “happy” people are, the interaction isn’t equal. In that case, how do we ever really know how the weaker party would feel if they had the unequivical power to say “no.”
There are too many ways around a shaky definition of consent, and I guess the pain how it plays out in real life (look at the low conviction rate of rapists) never goes away for me, and I don’t want that in my fiction.
^^ This
There are lots of kinds of power, though. LIke, I agree with you AND I think power dynamics can be complicated. The lovely thing about art is that everyone can find, one hopes, works that work for them.
Absolutely. You asked us what our limits were and that is one of mine. I know it differs from reader to reader. No two readers read the same book.
To me it will never be fluid. No means no, period.
Cruelty.
Like the one in Holly Black’s ‘The Stolen Prince’ where Wren puts the magic bridle on Oak to have him near. Yeah, yeah, Wren has a lot of emotional scar and there’s some psychological explanation that can make sense out of it, I’m sure. But nah, that’s a hard pass for me.
I couldn’t stand Wren. I don’t care how bad your background is–painful torment is a no go for me.
Have you seen Hitchcock’s earlier version of The Man Who Knew Too Much? Hitchcock was infamous for revisiting his earlier movies and basically remaking them (The 39 Steps, Saboteur, and North by Northwest have basically the same plot). In the first The Man Who Knew Too Much, the father wasn’t a doctor, the stolen child was a girl, and the hero was the mother whose sharp shooting skills saved the day. I agree though about Jimmy Stewart’s doctor character giving his wife sedatives. It seemed unnecessary, unrealistic, and played into the man strong, woman weak stereotype. Give me bad news straight up.
I have not seen the earlier version. I am working my way through Hitchcock very slowly and that one is on the list!
Unforgivable: gaslighting and its extreme variant mind-raping. I recall with distaste a nominally light paranormal where the magical heroine alters the memories of the mundane hero.
If it was wrong for Willow, it’s wrong for a romance lead!
Whether it’s a romantic partner, or just a friend, taking away someone’s agency is really hard for me to forgive. I don’t like friends who go behind the heroine/hero’s back and tell the love interest to back off, leave them alone, or whatnot. I love the book “Bet Me” by Crusie, but I really didn’t like that that Min’s friend Liza interfered, although she finally decided to treat Min like an adult. I never liked Min’s mom.
I know a lot of rom-coms have interfering family members and mom’s who try nto set-up their grown kids. Pushy and/or maniplulative family and friends will tank a book for me, especially if it’s supposed to be humorous. Some stories involving poor family relationships that get worked on and resolved one way or another can work for me, but I will never think manipulative people are funny. And I’m so sick of guilt-tripping moms that I can’t read books with that caricature anymore.
What beloved by many books have had me DNFing with fury?
By my second favourite romance author… with malice aforethought he planned to take everything she had most definitely including her virginity. It is such a beloved book I even tried it a second time and once again came to a furious screeching halt.
By the? leading PR author… attempted rape (mental coercion) of the heroine.
Notable for me rather than for others due to being in a trilogy with two 5 star books… hero unable? unwilling? to concentrate and do what needs to be done in a crisis.
TSTL… My ex made the mistake of having me read her favourite book. It isn’t her favourite book anymore after I commented on the absurdity of the heroine’s actions.
I think if the novel is well-written and the hero and heroine are actually good people at their core, I can forgive them for anything as long as whatever they’ve done or mistakes they’ve made are addressed and they have a decent justification other than just “he’s a bad boy,” “she was angry,” “this is a dark romance/horror romance,” my current favorite social media justification for why I should forgive some rotten, misogynistic jerk just because his literary genre apparently allows him to be that way. I don’t care if someone liked it, but if a character does something awful just out of cruelty and the book is supposed to be some kind of romance, then I want to see love, affection, etc. If it’s just obsession or lust, call it something else, like thriller or erotica.
I don’t really care how a story starts… he’s the king of an enemy country and killed the heroine’s entire family during the war but let her live because she was the nation’s innocent princess? Hard… potentially toxic… I’ll throw the book across the room if you want to give me a romance that starts like that with HEA in 200 pages. Give me a duology, each book 400 pages long, or a trilogy, and I can believe that over the course of those 800 pages or more, they fall in love, and I want LOVE, forgiveness, redemption, developing trust, explanations of the background of the war, for example, moments of caring for each other. I want to understand WHY they fall in love despite everything. That’s all I ask… I don’t care how it all starts or if something terrible happens within the first few pages, but I want the journey to convince me.
There’s nothing I hate more than the hero (it’s almost always the hero) doing something horrible physically or psychologically to the heroine (or maybe he’s just being a sociopath) and then out of nowhere she “loves him” even before he starts an redemption arc and trying to deserve her she already loved him…WHY?? THAT will make me throw the book away not understanding why the hell they love each other, reading books behind closed doors or “no spice” makes it very noticeable when this happens because the author can’t use great sex to replace a real connection.
My ‘no way – unforgivable’ and then I read it anyway and thought it was terrific was Bass-Awkwards, Eris Adderly. AAR has a great review of it. It starts with the boss in a small workplace giving a staff member the day off only if she has sex with him.
https://allaboutromance.com/book-review/bass-ackwards-by-eris-adderly/
ALL kinds of wrong so the magic is the redemption arc for Asshole Bill, the boss. Taught me a lot about writing, but also about being more open about what I’ll read. Same with cheating and marriage-in-trouble romances. They are so hard to do well but I tend to persevere with them.
Agreed! One of my favorite romances (also one of the many I’ve read after reading a review here on AAR). Such a great book—but I always tell people when I recommend it, I promise the boss redeems himself!
It’s has been on my TBR. Now it’s moved up! Thanks!
I read this one but I have a long memory for my “ick” response and that beginning scene is just criminal. Literally. And I could not get over it.
Over-the-top, gratuitous, nasty violence (including murder) masquerading as one MC protecting or getting retribution for the other MC. I’ve read two books recently (Leslie McAdams’s NOTORIOUS and Willow Dixon’s WICKED GAMES) where it was clear that the author was presenting extreme violence in a way they thought would be cathartic and that the reader would share that feeling. Instead, I was turned off by it and had no desire in either case to read other books in their respective series. It’s really a shame because I’ve enjoyed other books by both these writers, but when bloodshed and violence are used in place of true catharsis or therapy (what a novel idea!), it comes across as lazy writing in the worst way. I don’t mind dark, but even in dark romance, the ultimate fate of the bad guys can’t be too outsized or things just take on a dreary cartoonish feel.
Given the wild popularity of Woodiweiss’s “The Flame and the Flower” in 1972, the template was set for decades–an innocent girl who is raped by the hero (oh, no, he doesn’t beat her, ever, but in Heather’s case, he assumes that she’s a prostitute). When he discovers she’s not (oh, the handy blood on the sheet), he tracks pregnant Heather down, takes her away from her abusive aunt, and sails to American plantation where you have a “hilarious” scene where Heather has attempted to shed her English accent,to speak with an American accent–but here’s the hilarious part–are you ready for it? She models her accent after a slave’s! Ho Ho Ho. Poor innocent, unaware (stupid) Heather.
Anyway, Woodiweiss wrote the entire book with Brandon abusing Heather, mainly by withholding his love (he’s been hurt before, see) and maybe loving another woman. I kept reading because I envisioned his deep, sincere apology to Heather, his acknowledged cruelty to her and his begging for forgiveness. Brandon’s apology is about four words–very unsatisfying.
This template of abuse I think reflected our deep discomfort with the change in women’s sexual behavior with the advent of the pill in the 70’s.
Now, I stop reading a book where either the hero or the heroine is cruel.
PS If you talk about a book, could you please give its title? I want to know the books that I should avoid, and if I’ve already read it, people’s comments are more meaningful.
I loathed that book. BUT I do not loathe Prisoner of My Desire. For me, Heather is just a frickin’ ditz and wildly uninteresting and Brandon is just an asshat. The leads in PoMY are both intelligent, thoughtful people who are both working towards their own goals.
I’ve become a lot more selective after the #MeToo movement made me more aware of the ways in which mistreatment by powerful men impacts so many women’s lives. I now try not to support authors who portray rape and forced seduction as romantic.
Books that I’ve wanted to throw across the room because of a main character? The standout for me was a forced proximity romance in which the hero and heroine were snowed in, in a remote cabin. The hero was suffering from extreme PTSD and held a weapon against the heroine when they met. The heroine promptly decided that she loved the hero and that her love would cure his PTSD! I was more than irked by her stupidity and arrogance and by the author’s handling of the hero’s mental health issues.
I also felt that way about a Nora Roberts novel in which the heroine left her child in the care of the hero, whom she’d just met, because she “knew” he was a good person. So, careless parenting is a “no” from me.
Meanness is another “no”. I remember reading Georgette Heyer’s Fridays Child as a teenager and hating Viscount Sheringham’s meanness. That book is probably the only Georgette Heyer romance that I have never re-read.
For me a biggie is competence and or common sense, the lack thereof, in heroines
I don’t need a heroine to be a warrior queen, but if we’re told she is and then she has to be rescued on every other page? I’m out. And she doesn’t have to be the smartest person on the planet, but if you tell me she’s smart, then show me she is. If she’s supposed to be good at her job (whatever it is), don’t show me her being incompetent and needing someone else to fix things for her because she’s just so adorably klutzy. Yuck.
And on the common sense front – this one comes up more in historicals. I truly hate it when the heroine is ready to hop into bed with a man, but when discovered and compromised, decides she can’t marry him because he doesn’t love her. She’s been having mind-blowing sex with him, he’s been a considerate lover, she could get pregnant from it all, and yet, she can’t marry him if he doesn’t love her. Wall-banger for sure.
“I truly hate it when the heroine is ready to hop into bed with a man, but when discovered and compromised, decides she can’t marry him because he doesn’t love her” This!
Yep.
Right? The choice is she’s ruined forever, perhaps thrown out by her family, maybe pregnant, likely no other man would ever offer for her, but she can’t marry the man she’s been sleeping with because…
Rape. A little bit of hair-splitting in that I will tolerate the so-called “body betrayal” trope somewhat. But rape where the person is saying no as it’s happening and then doesn’t enjoy it during is just too real. I can’t take myself out of imagining how I would feel if that happened to me or someone I cared about, it taints the main character for the rest of the book.
Also heavy reliance on sex workers. To me, that smacks of taking advantage of someone in a weaker position societally, and that’s a major nope for me.
In heroines, I can’t stand if they’re dumb and gullible but everyone’s fine with it cause she’s so hot. Just finished reading Lyon’s Lady and it had both of these tropes in spades and it was tough going. Lyonelle was just not a smart lady, and the number of dumb miscommunications between the two had me rolling my eyes almost the entire book.
Oh! Also love between a boss and his direct report (it’s always the man who’s the boss, honestly). Maybe cause I’ve been a supervisor, but the idea of having an affair with a direct report is just so gross to me. Feels so completely like taking advantage and I can’t imagine any situation where it’s not except maybe she’s a secret countess and is just masquerading as a lowly secretary on a lark.