Over the weekend, I read Sex with Kings and Sex with the Queen by Eleanor Herman. Or rather I devoured them with the kind of prurient interest that I usually save for US Weekly. I would highly recommend these books, which examine the history of royal adultery from Medieval times to Prince Charles, to readers of romance. Packed with prurient history (and a tendency to overblown prose), these books are a reminder that the truth can indeed be stranger than any fiction a romance novelist could come up with. The leaders of the most powerful nations of the world were just as likely to do absolutely ridiculous things due to love and lust as your average person. And because of their power and status, the consequences of misguided passion could be dire indeed.
Historical romance readers are very familiar with the loveless, arranged marriages of the past and society’s acceptance of aristocratic philandering (for men, anyway). For the King, it was not only accepted, but expected that he would take a mistress. And up until the nineteenth century, the royal mistress usually had her own apartments in the palace, and the royal babies, legitimate or not, were all kept together in the nursery. Most of the time, it sucked to be queen. One can’t help but cheer a bit for the ones who were brave enough to take their own lover. Reading about the misbehavior of these important personages got me thinking about the issue of historical accuracy in historical romance.
Readers have varying tolerance for inaccuracies in their historical romance. To some, it is very important that all period details be accurate, while others don’t mind a wallpaper historical setting as long as the love story is good. But do we want too much historical accuracy in our romance? Because as I was reading these books, I kept thinking about how glad I was that the “heroes” and “heroines” of these stories bore little resemblance those of my favorite historical romances.
History can be boring, exciting and scurrilous. It can also be funky. Literally. The aristocracy of any given country was morally and ethically corrupt, lacking in hygiene, intelligence, and disease ridden to boot (whoring around has its consequences). The higher up the food chain, the worse it got, because they were above all authority. And the limited pool of eligible spouses led to inbreeding. Many a monarch was physically repulsive, borderline retarded and mentally deranged. Elaborate wigs covered greasy scalps, beauty patches hid sores and blemishes. Rich food and drink, and little exercise made for obese nobles in poor health. The Prince Regent, who presided over an England that has provided readers with many sweepingly romantic stories, said of his bride soon after marriage,
“She showed…such marks of filth in both the fore and hind part of her…that she turned my stomach and from that moment I made a vow never to touch her again (17).”
Yikes. One could imagine that the nobility were not quite as bad as royalty, but still, not a pretty picture.
While completely engrossing to read about, I, for one, am pleased that blackened teeth, body odor, and festering sores don’t make their way into romance novels. Back then, a person may have managed to be sexually desirable to others despite of these things, but now could an author make it so? Is a sanitized version of history necessary so that modern day readers are enchanted by passionate kisses and sensual love scenes rather than revolted? I should note that I’m not concerned by a bit of grime in straight historical fiction or historical mysteries. I guess I like a bit of fantasy in my romance. I like to put questions of cleanliness or dental hygiene out of mind. How about you? Sorry that some historical detail gets glossed over? Can you think of any historical romance which perhaps contained some accurate yet unsavory detail? As pertained to the hero or heroine? Did it add to the romance or distract? And, just out of evil curiosity, what would gross you out? Me, it’s the rotten teeth and super hairy parts. Does anyone know when women started shaving their legs and pits?
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February 7th, 2008 at 10:37 am
just out of evil curiosity, what would gross you out? Me, it’s the rotten teeth and super hairy parts. Does anyone know when women started shaving their legs and pits?
Tooth decay is caused (in part) by bacteria, and if left untreated tends to have negative consequences for one’s health. Body hair is a natural secondary sexual characteristic for both men and women and has no effect on either health or hygiene, so I don’t think “rotten teeth” and “super hairy parts” are really comparable. Choices regarding leg and armpit hair are similar to the choice to have long or short hair on one’s head. And I don’t think you’d imply that some people were “gross” because they chose to have have long head hair, would you?
the nobility were not quite as bad as the aristocracy
What’s the difference between the two? In this context I’d always thought they were pretty much synonymous.
February 7th, 2008 at 10:37 am
Rotten teeth would gross me out.
The ancient Egyptians, the women at least, would depilate everything using a form of waxing. Men and women both would shave their heads and wear wigs. Ancient Greek women shaved and plucked, pubic and leg hair, I recall, though fashions ebbed and flowed over time; I can’t remember what I was told about armpit hair. Ancient Roman women also removed pubic hair, usually with a cream depilatory; men would sometimes also remove armpit hair, especially in later periods. Professional depilators were available at the public baths.
February 7th, 2008 at 11:14 am
Laura–I’m speaking about personal preferences when reading a historical romance. Yes, rotten teeth would gross me out, and I believe even at the time having clean white teeth was cosidered quite an asset.
As for body hair, yes it is a choice (now, anyway). As Victoria pointed out certain ancient cultures depilated, culture/society dictate what is more desirable and that changes. But what I meant, and perhaps I should’ve been more clear, is that the (possible) lack of grooming in conjunction with the (probable) lack of bathing leads to my mind going to bad places during, say, an oral sex scene. And yes, that goes for head hair too. A long, full head of hair is gross if it’s greasy and full of lice.
My comment regarding the nobility was a mistake, actually. It should read
I also added italics around “can”. Perhaps the nobility was not as plagued by idiocy and instability as royalty, because inbreeding may not have been as severe, but I would imagine that they were probably not a particularly intelligent or pretty bunch.
Thank you for pointing out the typo. I will try and edit.
Victoria–Thanks for the info. The ancients were quite a clean bunch over all.
February 7th, 2008 at 11:49 am
what I meant, and perhaps I should’ve been more clear, is that the (possible) lack of grooming in conjunction with the (probable) lack of bathing leads to my mind going to bad places during, say, an oral sex scene
OK, I see what you’re getting at. It’s just that initially it wasn’t clear to me that it was hair + lack of bathing that you found “gross”. So when you wrote that “super hairy parts” “gross you out,” I was interpreting that as meaning that you thought it’s disgusting/unhealthy/repellent for anyone to have hairy legs and armpits, and that seemed rather strong language to describe what I’d see as a personal choice and not a symptom of disease or a lack of proper hygiene (as is the case with the sores or rotting teeth). Which is not to say that people can’t have preferences regarding facial hair, body hair etc, e.g. some people don’t like to read about heroes with beards, but I’d not think of them in the same category as sores etc.
February 7th, 2008 at 4:49 pm
Like you, Devon, I’m quite happy for these issues to be ‘glossed over’ in the novels I read. I kind of assume in my own head that the characters aren’t as manicured as in 21st century society, but it’s not something that I actively tend to think about. However, whilst a description of dental rot, sores or pus would be off-putting to me, I really don’t think a description of a heroine’s leg or armpit hair would bother me at all. Done in the right way, I think it could be quite nice. Does that make me weird?
February 7th, 2008 at 7:00 pm
Nah. That could be pulled off. I’m starting to think I’m the weird one for thinking about smelly pubes. There. I said it. Smelly pubes.
But on the subject of body hair, Laura brought up beards. I know I’ve read somewhere (I think it was on Squawk Radio ages ago), that authors don’t always include the most accurate sartorial details (hairstyles, facial hair etc.) because of the lack of appeal to contemporary readers. How would you feel about a hero with a luxurious moustache and muttonchops? [Am I getting that right? I'm pretty brain dead 'bout now. Sick kiddies.] I think it’s another thing a good author could pull off as part of the vividness of the setting, but in a weaker author, I’d be distracted.
February 8th, 2008 at 7:00 am
I really don’t think a description of a heroine’s leg or armpit hair would bother me at all. Done in the right way, I think it could be quite nice. Does that make me weird?
I think it’s another thing a good author could pull off as part of the vividness of the setting, but in a weaker author, I’d be distracted.
A while ago, at Lust Bites, Nikki Magennis wrote that “No one can stay beautiful and make love. I mean, have you ever seen yourself in the act? Face screwed up and sweating and mouth hanging open and hanging upside down off the edge of the bed is not a flattering pose.” And I think she’s got a good point, which is that real sex involves real bodies, and body fluid, and people don’t stay clean and perfect-looking throughout, even if they started off that way (and how many people have perfect bodies anyway?).
I suspect that to make something erotic, rather than like sex between beautiful but somewhat plastic people, the author’s probably got to make the real, the wrinkly, the hairy, the ugly into something seductive, she’s got to make that messy, smelly, ugly stuff seem arousing and oddly beautiful, and I imagine it’s more difficult to write that and much easier to write about beautiful people with beautiful bodies having amazing and utterly clean sex (other than the damp panties the heroines have), and that’ll not make anyone have a “eugh! that’s gross!” reaction. But at the same time, it also won’t feel real.
February 8th, 2008 at 7:52 am
I don’t think I was very clear in my last comment. I was trying to say is that I think it takes a lot more skill for a writer to make the reader understand and feel the passion between two people whom the reader might not herself find automatically attractive. If the author writes about a tall, dark, handsome man meeting a slim, beautiful woman and they have perfect sex, that’s not as much of a challenge as making the reader experience the passion between, say, a short, freckled, bearded man and an overweight, hairy middle-aged woman.
February 8th, 2008 at 4:59 pm
Great review, devon.
And laura, I got what you meant, and I totally agree with the ugly/seductive thing - I think there is a balance to be struck, because if things are TOO sanitized in contemporary or historical fiction, then it doesn’t feel genuine. And I think real details can be touched in to make the world feel closer, even if those details are imperfections or unpleasant, even. But not too unpleasant I guess!
I would be grossed out by smell. All those rotting teeth and festering wounds, etc, and the poor diet would make for a stinky lover, and I would hate that.
I remember when I used to work at this one restaurant/bar, and a regular there was the most handsome guy you ever saw, and everybody swooned to see him, but his breath was so awful, it completely reversed the effect. It was really sad.
Maybe they had nasal fatigue in the olden days.
February 8th, 2008 at 5:08 pm
I understand what you said Laura, and I think that your second comment (#8) was very well-put. I’m very impressed by authors who can pull off truly flawed characters (not just faux angst). I like flawed heroes and heroines (either physically or emotionally). I think it draws you in more, and makes the HEA more satisfying. When it’s a matter of physical attractiveness, I guess it’s a fine line between unusual and interesting and disturbing. I wonder where that line for me is.
February 8th, 2008 at 5:09 pm
CJ–Bad breath is such a turnoff. What a shame. I hope he went to a doctor.
February 10th, 2008 at 4:04 pm
LOL! Devon: I am soooooooo the wrong person to be asking about heroes with facial hair!!