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No this isn’t another post on pornography and Romance, but it does begin with an observation from the HBO series “Pornucopia: Going Down In The Valley.” In one episode – I don’t remember the name, only that it featured porn satires of famous Hollywood films - UC Santa Barbara film scholar Constance Penley noted that the mainstream porn industry has great fun satirizing so-called legitimate Hollywood films because unlike porn, Hollywood cannot show sex: they can only simulate it. She then went on to observe that Hollywood compensates by substituting violence for the sex they can’t show.
And really, that makes sense when you think about how and to whom action films are marketed, and who largely consumes porn. The source and even the nature of the rush might be different, but let’s face it, don’t a lot of women know first hand from their husbands and boyfriends that action flicks can be, shall we say, arousing? Even Lula, in the latest Stephanie Plum book, wants to borrow Morelli’s “Lethal Weapon” movies for her date with Tank (and warns Stephanie away from watching anything similar while alone with Ranger). By contrast, though, do most women find highly violent films a turn on, or particularly romantic? I’ve been wondering about this, what with the persistent presence of more explicit, more graphic violence in genre Romance. Especially since Romance can and does show the sex, at least within the parameters of the written form of a book. So if Romance doesn’t need violence to substitute for a lack of sex, why is there so much of it in the genre, and why don’t we talk about it more?
I have no desire to see violence excised from the genre, but I do wonder, sometimes, how there can be so much controversy over erotic Romance but not the proliferation of Romantic Suspense in which characters are threatened with explicit torture and where the point of view of the villain is often narrated in chilling detail, right down to step by step descriptions of his or her violent fantasies and deeds. Hybridization certainly accounts for some of the more chilling violence to penetrate the genre, but not all of it. I was a little taken aback in the midst of Kresley Cole’s If You Desire, when the hero, Hugh MacCarrick, impulsively pummels the man he sees as competition for the heroine’s affections. And the other guy was a nice guy, not by any stretch of the imagination a letch or a villain. I’m surprised with each passing Anne Stuart book that the acts of violence perpetrated by the hero onto the heroine seem to generate so little stir. And I’ll admit to feeling a little perplexed by the fact that readers will put up with violent heroes more readily than with adulterous ones.
Moral ambiguity in fictional characters fascinates me, and I’ve been captivated by a number of Romances darkened by violent heroes (Sheridan from Laura Kinsale’s Seize The Fire, Bastien from Anne Stuart’s Black Ice), or by violence pressed onto either the hero or heroine (in Patricia Gaffney’s Wyckerley series and in the new Liz Carlyle, Never Deceive A Duke, for example). I’m a sucker for the hero or heroine who is healed by unconditional love – the relationship that can provide the tortured hero or heroine with the security and comfort they were once denied. That’s probably why I gobble up every Jo Goodman book – they’re often about the emotional healing that comes from a powerful combination of inner strength and romantic interdependence. And I suspect that the relief and adrenaline I feel when either the hero or the heroine is saved at the exact right moment before some unthinkable thing occurs is similar to that action movie arousal. Except that what really works in Romance for me is the more poignant sense of intimacy that the hero and heroine experience in the aftermath of either escaping danger together or after one character steps in to save the other.
There’s an almost alchemical magic in the vulnerability communicated through the threat of violence or the memory of past abuse. Often the hero has been abused as a child, so that we can see the incredible vulnerability behind the veneer of physical strength and size. Or the heroine is escaping an abusive marriage or some traumatic event from which the hero’s gentle but super-protective love must revive her to the world and to the safety of love. And because the central relationship in Romance cannot break or be threatened too authentically from within, external forces and threats must often serve to create the sense of fragility and vulnerability that heightens both the attachment of the hero and heroine to one another, and perhaps more importantly, the attachment of the reader to the couple’s ultimate HEA.
So yeah, I get all that, and I appreciate it when it works really well. But as a reader, I also feel there’s a fine line between writing that shows characters being threatened or brutalized and writing that actually seems to brutalize them, sometimes in a way that appears to exceed the narrative integrity of the romance. For example, in Linda Howard’s Raintree: Inferno, Dante brutally murders a sniper when he realizes that the guy could have taken out the heroine. He doesn’t just do away with the guy – he makes him suffer, and we watch both the victim and Dante in that scene. The victim is a stranger to us as readers, a stranger to Dante, as well, but Howard spends a moment narrating his torturous death. While I was reading that scene, I kept wondering why it was necessary that we see this so vividly, and what it meant that Dante could be so sadistic in this violence, even though it was intended to protect the heroine. Especially after he had treated the heroine so brutally in the first part of the book. The scene occurs later in the novel, but it made an impression on me. And is that the point? Is it simply that we are so desensitized to violence generally that we need more and more explicitness for the emotional impact to register?
At what point is a book’s narrative not simply showing brutality, but actively brutalizing the characters? The one and only Catherine Coulter novel I read – the 2000 release Rosehaven — crossed this line over and over again for me to the point where I felt the heroine was totally degraded, not just at the hands of the hero, but at the hands of the narrative, as well. The narrative of Patricia Gaffney’s early release, Lily, also vacillated between saving Lily and pulverizing her, so that by the end of the book I was exhausted and not for one second convinced that her ending would be a happy one. Linda Howard’s Raintree: Inferno stretched right up against that line for me, as well, when Dante brutally strip-searched Lorna and mind locked her in his house.
This line is one that each reader draws for herself and is perhaps different for each book. Laura Kinsale’s Seize The Fire may be my favorite of her works (the status changes periodically, depending on my re-reading schedule), but it’s also the most difficult of her books for me to re-read, both because of what Sheridan suffered as a child and what he inflicts on Olympia. Some read the ending of that book as downright bleak, the anti-HEA, because of the condition of both Olympia and Sheridan at that point. So why do I not find that book crossing the line between portraying brutality and brutalizing its characters? Perhaps it is the sensitivity I feel in the story, the faith I have in the strength of the couple to survive, or the emotional complexity of the work as a whole – at some level I just seem to trust that Olympia and Sheridan’s love is real and will endure, while I could not find that trust with the Coulter book. Or maybe it is just my own particular hot buttons. It must be the same with the Kresley Cole book – even though I thought Hugh was a jerk for punching out the one nice guy who cared about Jane, I trusted that he would change and that the violence he harbored would ultimately be exercised only as necessary.
Overall, though, it feels that there are so many more judgment calls to make these days, and I am so much more attentive to the violence in Romance and more curious about how it seems to co-exist so comfortably with the promise of the HEA. I know life is tough, and that bad things happen to good people, and that women are particularly vulnerable to certain types of violence, and I appreciate that Romance is often willing to entertain the most troubled scenarios and undertake a healing process, however long it may take. But I also wonder what all this violence means in the genre and why it seems to have become so much more explicit and clearly detailed. Why is it that in the genre explicitly concerned with love we also find a good deal of violence, and so much of it directed at women? And how is it that we can debate whether polyamory belongs in the genre, the optimal number of partners a heroine has had before she meets the hero, or the merits of open or closed door sex, but barely give passing mention to the surplus of assassin heroes, formerly abused heroines, or the increasingly common violence accompanying the romantic couple toward their happilyeverafter union of perfect love and unfailing commitment?
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I pretty much hate violence. Period. But I can see why it’s laking into everything. Because it’s everywhere. Even with the news I have to shut my eyes. I caught a few minutes of Oprah’s panel about Rap, and I remember Mr. Simmons telling her, that the violence was the experience of the poet, and that’s what came out. I think it’s true with writing, too. Not that those writers have experienced it, but that it’s a part of our lives.
by Eva Gale
on July 30th, 2007 at 10:21 am
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leaking, not laking…
by Eva Gale
on July 30th, 2007 at 10:21 am
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I prefer that my books not have violence in them. I normally don’t watch a lot of movies that are violent.
I agree with Eva about how you can’t escape violence, you see it in the news, the war in Iraq is violent, the television shows are violent. I don’t understand our fasination with violence and maybe that’s why I love my romance books without it. I want to escape from reality and romance lets me do that.
by Patty L.
on July 30th, 2007 at 11:19 am
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I prefer my books to be…real. I guess that is the word I am looking for. The truth is historical men weren’t always kind they were domineering and women were not always considered with value other than what lands or family connections they could gain through them. Invaders raped nuns, women were dragged by their hair kicking and screaming only to be set up in a home not their own as a wife, I am sure the sexual relations were not on the best of terms, at least not at the beginning. Even the women from history weren’t always virginal. Virginity didn’t even matter for a long time.
These are our stories to write, to share with others. I came across a genre that wouldn’t even allow the heroine to lie. To me that is just not always feasible.
Some women like bondage others like sweet romance. I think if you have a story to write, write it. If it seems twisted, write it. If it will shock and aw, write it.
Above all I say have fun. And write!
by Christina
on July 30th, 2007 at 1:40 pm
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While I agree, I tend to be a peace loving person, I think for certain stories, certainly suspenseful stories or stories which center around heros or herorines, whose jobs deal in violence or are touched by violence, the story is often the better for it, if the reader “sees” the violence.
I think it makes for a more authentic and real story. Also, I think sadly for alot of people, great moment of change from from a period in their lives marked by violence of some nature. I also, have been journaling alot about what I am calling emotional violence. I think while many of have experienced emotional violence to a certain degree and I think that it can cause bruises which never heal.
by Susan
on July 30th, 2007 at 1:44 pm
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Lately I’ve been asking myself why the violence is in the book. Is the book in part about violence in society, about war, about domestic violence, about physical and emotional security? Or would the book have too little tension without the violence, i.e. violence may be an easy way to add drama to a static relationship.
I’m not saying all books must have Relationship as a main plot; it’s fine if the focus of the book is on primarily the thrills or primarily the relationship. I love it when there’s development in all aspects of the novel (action, character, relationships, …), but a lot of satisfying books don’t have that.
Where I get unhappy is, I’ve read a number of romances with a classic character-driven setup–but zero tension or movement in the relationship, so it falls flat. Sometimes it feels like an unconvincing thriller subplot has been cobbled on, and that thriller aspect is all that keeps the story moving. A couple of recent Linda Howards and Heather Grahams (The Island, ugh) give me this feeling.
Of course, a lot of the judgment over the story’s “focus” is in the eye of the beholder. Witness the kerfuffle on DearAuthor over Karin Slaughter killing a character. Those reading for the romance were furious; those reading the series as a thriller were fine with it. And today I see a related judgment call is playing out in Writer Unboxed’s post (*Harry Potter spoiler warning*). I’ll quote a somewhat unspoilerish part of the post here:
I’m a big fan of employing what I term The Boromir Effect, which means killing off a major sub-character to ratchet the tension and the stakes. It’s a technique to place your protagonists in more jeopardy while making the antagonists more invincible. You’re telling the reader that the baddies (and by extension, you) mean business and that no one is safe. It’s a time-tested narrative device.
But an over-reliance of The Boromir Effect can have the opposite effect on your reader. By killing off… many characters in a relatively short space… you risk numbing your reader to violence and horror. They stop caring and you’ve actually undercut the tension.
The comments on her page are split: some readers don’t like the violence because they’re attached to the characters, and some feel the book/series is partly about a war between good and evil, and violence is necessary to portray that.
by RfP
on July 30th, 2007 at 2:10 pm
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I’ve read George RR Martin and he’s the king of the Boromir Effect. No one is safe. I still remember the crushing emotional scene involving Danyris (sp?) and her husband and son. In epic stories, however, I find that the killing of characters is necessary in order to maintain some tension. I.e., in the Eddings series, no one is ever hurt to any serious degree. We call that fantasy-lite at my household.
I wish, but don’t see, more authors spending time on the whys. Why, as you ask in your column, are the scenes included. I.e., what is the purpose of the scene showing Dante brutalizing the stranger? Is it to show that he is manly and powerful? I already got that. In the Slaughter book, what was the purpose of killing someone off? Is it to create emotional tension and keep the plot going? It happened at the end of the story. In the last few paragraphs. It seemed that the author was going for a shock so that the story would be memorable but the story could have been memorable on its own - the story of how drugs can totally bring a town to its knees.
In the upcoming September release by Elizabeth Hoyt, there are some strong visual scenes of violence, subdued violence, but I thought it was necessary to show certain aspects of the hero and it was integral in displaying the character arc. Without the violence and some stark imagery, I think that the story would have been less emotional and less powerful. Each scene was meaningful and there was no waste or filler.
I guess it comes down to whether the violence is meaningful or gratuitous. Does each scene carefully advance the character development or the plot? Or is it just in there as a “scene” to fill pages and move us along to the next segment?
by Jane
on July 30th, 2007 at 2:51 pm
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I enjoy romance, sex and violence in my books, but not all in the same ones. LOL I have times when Thrillers are what I love, and even better if there is a romance thrown in, but I can also see NOT enjoying a rom,ance if it had too much violence in it. Wierd, I’ve never drawn the paralel before, and find this post and the comments fascinating. Thank you for sharing your thoughts.
by Sasha
on July 30th, 2007 at 3:01 pm
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I’m not a fan of violence either in books or movies. I don’t watch violent movies - just don’t. I think it’s easier to take in a book though because you can close the cover for a while until you get past it.
Having said that, I’m amazed at myself that I love the In Death so much. I never close the covers of them until I’m done and I think they have some of the most violent scenes of any books I’ve read. When reading some of the more detailed scenes, I almost do it with my eyes closed - as well as my heart for lack of better word. If I let those scenes in it’s too disturbing.
Yet I still love them and will reread them over and over again. Of course in the rereading I really skim over the violent parts. But then again, they aren’t really marketed as romance.
by KristieJ
on July 30th, 2007 at 9:06 pm
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I write romantic thrillers. I have a lot of violence in my books. Sometimes, well-liked secondary characters die. Sometimes they become victims, but survive. In FEAR NO EVIL, the beloved younger sister of the Kincaid’s was kidnapped and raped live on the Internet.
I write what I write. I want to show the passion between the hero and heroine as well as the violence against either them or others. Basically, the whole enchilada. I might push a few envelopes, but I like reading books that push envelopes as well. I understand that some people don’t like the violence, but then again, some people don’t like the sex in my books either. Some people want more sex, less violence; others more violence and less sex. I write what I would want to read and hopefully there are enough readers out there who like what I like.
I think a lot of it comes in packaging. My covers are dark and suspenseful, with back-cover copy to match. I don’t think that buyers are misled in the packaging. I read extensively, light and dark RS, straight romance and straight thrillers. I know that Jenny Crusie is always going to give me a fun, light read. I know that Tess Gerritsen is going to give me a page-turning thriller with some stomach-turning moments. I love both.
What I LOVE about romantic suspense as a genre–and I believe RS has grown into its own genre–is that there’s room for everything–dark and gritty to light and fun, and everywhere in between.
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I was wondering today why I don’t mind violence in my romance, and I think it’s because I put my trust in the author that they will right it. I know that by the end of the story they will have hopefully given me a measure of justice, and a HEA/FN for the characters.
by Eva Gale
on July 31st, 2007 at 12:22 pm
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I write romantic suspense, and I do think–a lot–about the level of violence in my books, and about how much of it a particular story needs. I find it depends on the story. Like KristiJ said the, uh, good thing about violence in books is that you can, if you choose, close the book, take some deep breaths, and move on. The romantic suspense writer owes the reader two things, a happily ever after, and a good serving of just deserts for the villain. It is probably not a genre for the faint of heart, either to read or to write.
As a writer who doesn’t close the bedroom door to afford her characters privacy in their sex lives, I find I’m just as inept at keeping the gun in the drawer if a bad guy needs to get whacked. I kill the bastard on stage. But so far, I’ve never been able to write a rape scene. Just can’t. Nor can I write anything that smacks of torture. I guess I haven’t quite grown up as a writer yet . . .
by EC Sheedy
on August 1st, 2007 at 1:28 am
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Eva: It’s a lot about trust for me, too. As a reader, I’m not sure I can always articulate what allows me to trust a certain author on the journey of a book, but sometimes it happens over the course of one book and sometimes it takes a few. I do tend to value what seems to be a high level of self-awareness in the writing — a strong sense of purpose in the voice of the narration that makes me feel as if the author has really contemplated every step. I don’t think authors have complete control over their books — or at least control over how others read them — but I think authorial self-awareness can be communicated through consistency, clarity, depth, and thematic coherence. And yes, the “measure of justice” factor is there, too.
Patty: in one sense, I like Romance to be more authentic, more infused with realism, especially when it comes to historical detail and worldbuilding more generally. But sometimes the amount of violence in Romance feels *unreal* to me in its extremity. That’s, I think, what makes me take note.
Christina: As I said in my comment to Patty, I agree with you about wanting more realism, especially in historical Romance. Nowadays, I find that I feel cheated more and more in terms of expansive and detailed worldbuilding in Romance, whether it be straight historical or contemp or paranormal. And I certainly agree with you that authors should tell the story they need to tell — in fact, when a book becomes infused with the author’s passion for her story, IMO that can be a powerful force to engage me as a reader. What I wonder, though, is whether violence is such a central aspect of Romance simply because it’s more realistic, or whether it’s there sometimes to amp up the tension and create a connection to the characters quickly, rather than building it through other venues. Of course it’s an individual call from book to book, but sometimes I feel that violence is its own kind of Romance shorthand.
Susan: interesting point about the need to “see” the violence in stories where characters have been touched by that. What do you think the reader gains? Is it cathartic, do you think, or does is deepen the attachment the reader has to the HEA?
RfP: thanks so much for the info on the Boromir effect; I’ve never heard of it, but wouldn’t you know that there’d be a name for it, lol. The point you make about whether a book is *about* violence or not is a good one, too. I’ve become so oversensitive, I think, to this idea of Romance shorthand substituting for actual character and plot development, that I’m starting to see violence the same way. Romance is nothing new to the genre, of course, but I feel like it’s employed differently these days, especially in Romantic suspense.
Jane: yes, it’s the “whys” I’m trying to get at here. I have nothing against violence, but when it becomes so prevalent I’m paying more attention, and when I’m paying more attention, I’m more curious about what’s going on. And that no one seems to talk about it just makes me even more curious. Why so many issues around the sex but not the violence?
Sasha: Thrillers and True Crime novels are genres where I expect there to be a lot of violence. Horror and maybe Mystery, too. And really, there’s a lot of violence in Romance of the past. Think of Skye O’Malley and that generation of Romance novels, for example. But a lot of that seemed so over the top as to be almost cartoonish. A lot of what I read today in the genre seems much more realistically delineated, which makes it feel a bit different to me.
Kristie: I think on of the things that allows me to read the violence in the In Death books is that Eve IS a homicide detective, and to understand her, I need to understand what she’s mired in day after day. And to have a depth of appreciation for her own history. I wonder, too, if because Eve often does things that are a bit over the line to solve her cases that seeing the eeeevvvvviiilll she battles in the homicides is supposed to help make those extra things seem more justified. Like, it’s okay that she has access to Roarke’s secret equipment because she has to win against the horribly evil villain, and when we see what the villain does, we don’t care what Eve has to do to solve the case.
Allison: for me, at least, this isn’t about liking or disliking violence in Romance; it’s a questioning of how we talk so much about the sex in the genre but not the violence. And IMO the violence is becoming more present than the sex –or at least on par with it. It would be hard for me to read the scene you describe in your post, but if I was engaged in the book, I’d push through it for the sake of the story as a whole. I’d likely find it very uncomfortable, but if I felt it achieved a purpose, I’d be right there, following your vision. I love envelope pushing books, but not for the sole sake of the pushing, I’m afraid. No matter what, though, I think authors should write the stories that move them. And you will find readers who love them. I just want to talk about it all, lol.
EC: very interesting comment on the open door for both sex and violence; that makes perfect sense to me. I do skim some violence in books, especially torture, which I just can’t stomach as a reader, no matter what the purpose. I’m okay getting the gist of it so that I can understand whatever I need to for the bigger picture. Different readers have different emotional tolerances, and I think that’s why it’s so great that I can skim a scene and someone else can read every word of it. We might both get the full emotional impact without having to take in the same level of detail. Although if I feel that characters are being brutalized for reasons that extend beyond the larger emotional truths or thematic coherence of the book, then I get frustrated as a reader and lose confidence in the author’s vision.
by Robin
on August 1st, 2007 at 6:02 pm
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Robin, I should say for clarification that I didn’t actually show the entire rape, but I did go through the beginning, and I had someone watching it online (not vividly describing it, but her reaction at watching it) and then the aftermath from the victim’s POV.
It was a difficult scene(s) to write, but I think they worked.
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For me it’s all about the context. Does it work within the story? Or is it gratuitous?
If I’m reading a romantic suspense/thriller I expect to a certain level of violence and an elevated sense of anxiety as I read, paranormals/horror should raise my feelings of fear, in the same way a romantic comedy should make me smile/laugh or a tear jerker should make me cry.
Reading should stimulate our emotions or the book isn’t working.
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If I’m reading a romantic suspense/thriller I expect to a certain level of violence and an elevated sense of anxiety as I read, paranormals/horror should raise my feelings of fear, in the same way a romantic comedy should make me smile/laugh or a tear jerker should make me cry.
That variety sounds fabulous. I get bored when too much of what I read hits me on too similar a level, emotionally. That’s why I occasionally try a horror novel, or a bloodier-than-usual romantic suspense. I wouldn’t want a steady diet of gore and terror, but I’ll read some for variety.
by RfP
on August 3rd, 2007 at 7:42 pm
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Allison: I’ve often wondered if there’s a difference between writing and reading a difficult scene — is it easier or harder to actually be the one who puts the scene together and gives it life on the page? As a reader, I can’t necessarily predict what scene will affect me more. One book can contain some really graphic violence and not creep me out so much, while another book can simply make some pointed allusions and put me right on edge. My difficulties as a reader begin when I feel manipulated by a book, when a feel that sex or violence or some other trigger is being employed as a substitute for character development or storytelling. As a reader, I appreciate it when a book can take me somewhere I never thought I would be able to go, but I also resent it when I feel like I’m simply being led in circles or into walls or on some false detour that never leads anywhere. And when characters get brutalized in that process, I really start to wonder what’s going on — is the violence acting as a surrogate for decent storytelling, and what are the implications of that.
Tara Marie: You make a really good point about how different generic contexts provide for different expectations. And that ultimately it’s all about engaging the reader emotionally in the book. I think that may be why readers say they enjoy being scared or horrified sometimes — it’s that sense of arousal, that heightened response and the cathartic satisfaction when justice is served and good (including love) prevails.
Rfp: Horror isn’t my thing, but I definitely find myself seeking variety in my reading choices. What concerns me is the question of whether the market sometimes replaces true variety among books with amped up gore and terror as a way to keep readers engaged at ever-higher levels –as in breaking through an ever-escalating tolerance to violent images, rather than offering truly diverse settings, characters, and plots.
by Robin
on August 5th, 2007 at 1:47 pm
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I don’t like violence in my movies or in my books. I have never heard of the idea that today’s level of violence in movies is in part prompted by the inability to show the sex, but it rings true to me. And I’d much rather see the sex. At least it’s creative. I find the current genre of torture porn films to be abhorrent. I hate it when the only reason why something is created is to make a fast buck off of something demeaning.
by emdee
on August 7th, 2007 at 2:27 pm
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