Over the years, we’ve published many a piece about Bad Boys. I wrote one nine years ago about being over bad boys (this proved to be a lie), there’s one inspired by Chris Brown, one in which we swoon over Don Draper, and more. Their appeal and the problems they pose continue to inspire and irk readers.
One of the best columns I found about bad boys was written by Rachel Potter. In it she discusses a book I love–Nancy Werlin’s Impossible–as well as Companions of the Night by Vivian Vande Velde. Rachel ponders what it means to prefer the bad boy over the good. (As someone who finds Angelus more interesting than Angel, I so get that.) She also shares her theory for why love we men that seem invulnerable.
I’ve been floating the notion for awhile that the reason we have so many Navy SEAL heroes and vampire/werewolf love interests is because in a society where the rules shifted a generation ago and things still haven’t shaken down to ensure that woman are safe, economically secure, and equally respected, warrior characters represent a big buffer against all the insecurity women stare down every day. A man who is invulnerable but powerfully influenced by a woman is basically a weapon, a big sexy weapon with a “free” will. He will do anything to protect his love and will use all the tools at his disposal to make sure she is always safe and provided for. This is a lot better than just being rich as so many romance heroes of yesteryear were. His arms are a fortress, and nothing can get at our heroine as long as she has his heart.
I like the idea of warrior heroes offering women a buffer. A buffer isn’t a solution, it doesn’t make the challenges women face vanish, it just gives women space and protection. Invulnerability isn’t inherently a bad boy bug/feature, however. But if a hero will do anything, especially acts outside our espoused moral code, then we may label him a bad boy.
I struggle to love a bad boy who, more than once, treats the heroine poorly–and we can argue for the next millenia about what sort of behavior that implies. Old skool heroes like Brandon Birmingham or Steve Morgan are easy to dismiss. The endless parade of alphaholes in contemporary romance is depressing.
But I do like some bad boys–Anne Stuart’s Adrian Rohan and his like may be jerks but they’re the sort of jerks that once redeemed make wonderful husbands/boyfriends/friend with benefits. But my sense of what is and isn’t, really, who is or isn’t acceptable is my own and others may differ. Whatever one thinks–and I’d love to know your thoughts on the matter–I feel sure bad boy heroes aren’t going anywhere.
This is another aspect of romance novels that I have lost tolerance for over the years, and it’s a key reason why a lot of books I enjoyed back in the day when the whole genre was new and exciting to me would not hold up to rereading today. If the hero is a jerk I’m unlikely to stick around long enough to see him redeemed. So many books, so little time….
I’d rather see both hero and heroine being jerks to each other (enemies to lovers) or the jerk alpha hero with a heroine who puts him in his place and doesn’t fall in love WHILE he’s a jerk, but when he starts to soften. My rational mind doesn’t understand falling madly in love with a man who treats you badly.
I think one other reason we like badly behaved leads is that we and those we love have all, at some point, behaved horribly towards someone we love. (If you never have, I am jealous.) Redeeming a lover that has failed in the past but that we now believe will not fail us again allows us to be more accepting of flaws in ourselves and those we love.
Isn’t it interesting that so often in romances we love heroes that in real life, we’d reject totally? I, personally, would have no interest in marrying a SEAL, for example, yet I love reading romances with them.
Plus, bad boys are not really bad men. I’ve never read a hero who sells heroin or is incestuous or even hits the heroine, let alone puts her in the hospital. Every fictional bad boy has his own moral code, sometimes being an avenger of the wrongs. His moral code takes care of those people who are disadvantaged in some way. Yes, he may be a criminal or have a prison record, but hie is an honorable person who hurts only people who deserve it. If he’s a thief, he doesn’t steal from the disabled veteran who is barely getting by. He protects his neighborhood and has a soft spot (which his enemies take advantage of) for mothers, etc.
Does he rape the heroine? Yeeesss, but. . .
It’s never a violent rape. Somehow, he knows that when she says, “No! No!” she will enjoy the sex because, let’s face it, he has a lot of sexual experience. He knows her better than she knows herself because he’s so attuned to her. This aspect is just one aspect of romances that some people–usually women, unsurprisingly–find repellent, but I would argue they are not paying attention to the subtext. They would argue that such subtexts are irrelevant.
One of the real reasons that I think so many feminists reject romances is that they reflect heroes who are, so often, reflective of what I believe is biology. I think women are inherently vulnerable, physically, even if they are not pregnant or responsible for a child. Therefore, the man who is the top of the food chain who adores you and would do anything for you appeals to women (and men, too). How many “bad boys” are the basis for movies, games, etc. that appeal to both sexes? I, personally, think this picture of a strong, ruthless (who imposes his own code which reflects society’s) is basic to humanity.
The whole rape thing…I’m pretty sure I disagree with you on that aspect and would agree with your assertion that subtexts are irrelevant. A “hero” who doesn’t honor a “no” is not simply a bad boy, he’s a rapist.
In the Old Skool Bodice Rippers, what you’ve described as this non-violent, “she says no but she really does want it” sexual encounter was called forced seduction, and I always viewed it as a way for the heroine to remain a “good girl” while still getting to enjoy sex. Sure, she enjoyed it, but she didn’t really want it and she DID try to resist. It wasn’t her fault that the uber sexy man made her feel that way. Thankfully, we’ve progressed towards the point where women are allowed to be sexual beings and enjoy sex for its own sake and not need the smokescreen of initial resistance to maintain the status of a “good girl”.
Today, the idea that, as you’ve said “[the hero] knows her better than she knows her own self” and thus would push her past her “no” is extremely demeaning in its implication that the silly woman simply doesn’t know what she wants. I don’t care if he’s the best, most experienced lover since Don Juan. That doesn’t make him qualified to determine what is best for a woman as far as her consent goes.
Of course YMMV, but for me, the acceptable bad boy of today is the guy who has the swagger and the confidence to push, but is fully accepting of the “no means no” attitudes of today.
Not to mention that it’s hard to ignore the “your body says yes even though your mouth says no” knowing that there are women who have orgasmed during rape and experience serious trauma from being so betrayed by their bodies.
I am not so keen on “bad boys” in contemporary romance but for more years than I care to admit to, Miles Calverleigh (The Black Sheep) and Lord Damerel (Venetia) are two of Georgette Heyer’s rake heroes that I adore and always will. They were the bad boys of their particular era but both transcend it for me. Perfect, both of them.
I need to read Venetia. It’s been on the list for years and just keeps getting bumped
Venetia languished in my tbr for many years but it quickly became one of my favorite Heyer novels when I finally listened to it a few years ago. The audiobook is wonderful.
It depends on what you mean by a bad boy. I’d certainly boggle at a member of a drug cartel or a mob enforcer. But a SEAL? By definition he’s chosen an occupation where he will risk his life to protect others. How does this make him a bad boy? Even the rakes in Regencies don’t seduce innocents or force themselves on the servants. “Rake” is kind of shorthand for “attractive to women.” And the tattooed guy on the motorcycle? His badness seems to be a dislike of authority rather than doing harm to others.
Dabney, you said that you always found Angelus more interesting than Angel, which I can understand (although I’ll always prefer Angel!). I don’t find a lot of bad boy in Angel at all – when he’s got a soul, he’s strictly on the side of good. In fact, he’s as close to a beta male as it’s possible for a vampire to get. As far as Angelus, I don’t see him as a bad boy but as just plain bad. I can’t think of one instance when Angelus acted out of love, which, for me, is a must for anyone categorized as a “bad boy”.
But you know who sits right in the middle of that spectrum between Angel and Angelus? Spike. He’s the quintessential bad boy. He breaks rules with abandon, is guided by selfish needs and desires, loves creating chaos, and can usually be counted on to make the wrong choices. But when he loves, it’s deeply and with complete devotion. He would move Heaven and Earth to keep the women he loves from pain – Drusilla and then Buffy – and when he makes the worst possible mistake, his guilt and regret motivate him to find redemption that literally drives him mad.
I am a huge Spuffy–over Bangel–fan although I think Riley would have made Buffy the happiest.
I think Angel is just too beta for me personally which is why I find Angelus more interesting as a character. But I don’t think either of them are the right partner for Buffy.
Late to the party on this Q. Curious though…is “bad boy” a term only used in contemporary/paranormal/non-historical romance? Is a “bad boy” different from an “anti-hero” or “anti-villian?” e.g. Valentine Napier, the Duke of Montgomery, is the anti-hero in Darling Beast (Maiden Lane #10) by Elizabeth Hoyt.