The Dirty Secret of Romance Novels

“Do you have a trashy book?” the girl next door wanted to know.

I was in college and the dorm was a vast collection of paperback novels traded, exchanged or borrowed between girlfriends, especially when classes were called off due to a storm.

“A what?” I asked.

“A romance novel,” she said.

“Oh. Room 117 has those.”

 I was introduced to my first romance novel when I was a high school senior. The lush historical romance swept me off my feet, but the sexually graphic scenes left me feeling squeamish and guilty, which were unlike the feelings Jane Austen evoked. In college, when I developed an obsession for legal and political thrillers, I dropped romances altogether.

But it wasn’t until the girl next door called the romance genre a ‘trashy book’ that the filth of it slapped me like a dirty rag in the face. It never crossed my mind to label my former entertainment choices as shamefully comparable to porn. Not until then.

The romance genre is a 1.4 billion industry, the largest sector in publishing. According to the Romance Writers of America, 64.6 million of Americans read at least one romance novel in the past year. 78% are female readers, 50% are married, and the rest are single, divorced, widowed or separated. More than half the readers are between the age demographic of 14-65 years old. On the education profile, only 22% have a high school degree, the rest own bachelor’s, associates, trade school or post graduate degrees. In short, the chances of personally knowing a romance reader is pretty high. She could very well be the girl next door. At one time, I was her and today, she could be you.

Ladies, you’re not alone. Women like us struggle with a craving to escape into romance only to be trapped in a web of illicit entertainment. But we’re not helpless against the tide. There are several Christian publishers and at least one Catholic publisher out there, who are understanding of the romance niche, but also repelled by the pornography of the mass market that they have printed tamer novels with specific writer guidelines on what is acceptable for novel scenes. These publishing companies are combatting the onslaught of widespread lust by producing wholesome romance novels. Most (though not all) offer a clean love story minus the sex, feature characters with real, contemporary Christian struggles and weave themes of forgiveness and redemption. (Note to major Catholic publishers: please don’t lag behind. Catholics also desire a good love story with a solid Catholic perspective.)

Romance in and of itself is good. It is not automatically pornography, but neither is it the equivalent of true love. In his excellent book The Romance of Religion, Fr. Dwight Longenecker illustrates why the religious person is deeply romantic at heart. The religious person, like the romantic hero/heroine of novels, is at the onset on a search for what is true, good, beautiful and lasting, and this is why the longing for romance cannot be stomped into oblivion. The quest for true love always finds its climax in Jesus Christ, who died on that cross for you and me. The journey concludes its happily-ever-after in the wedding feast of the Lamb and His Church. The tale of heroic sacrifice is more alive than ever in Christianity.

Christianity is the good news that God’s antagonist has twisted in the secular media industry. Confusing lust for love, swapping intimacy for sex, compromising perversion for normalcy, spinning exoticness on immorality, and exchanging Christ’s passion, death and resurrection for worldly passions are the tricks of the enemy’s trade. Let’s not fall for the competitor’s marketing ploy. Why not take back the purity of love, refuse the temptation of trashy books, and end the perpetuation of pornography?

A priest once gave me advice on how to navigate the inescapable decadence of modern-day novels in general. He emphasized the difference between a corrupt novel versus corrupt scenes. Basically, if it appears that a book’s primary aim is not to titillate the imagination, the novel may be acceptable provided that when you come across the occasional sleazy part, skip it or run to confession if you fall for it. If there are continually profligate scenes, ditch the novel completely. But if the novel is geared to licentiously arousing lust, (which you will intuit from the front or back cover alone) then for the good of your soul’s purity, don’t even bother picking up the trash. (I would say this is brilliant advice for selecting TV shows and movies, too.)

The advice proved golden to me. Since being more extracting of my reading choices, I’ve developed an intolerance for mainstream entertainment and am more drawn to anything but. Once in a while the pacing of the classics will induce an unscheduled nap, but at least a disturbing sordid scene won’t jolt my flight into innocent imagination.

Constant discernment of literature and entertainment is a habit worth developing. When we guard our eyes, we guard our hearts. “The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eye is healthy, your body will be full of light.” (Matthew 6:22)