In Defense of the Chick-Lit

Photo by Mia DiGiorgio

My most embarrassing secret as a Writing, Literature & Publishing major with a literary concentration? I’m a romance reader. Well, maybe reader isn’t the most accurate term–I’m a romance devourer. I read at least three romance novels a week, taking every break between classes and essay writing to dive into a new enemies-to-lovers plot filled with copious amounts of angst and endless banter. But with fluffy dialogue, happy endings, endless banter, and seemingly meaningless prose, what do chick-lits have to offer our contemporary world?

I’d argue several things, mainly a feminine lens on contemporary problems including body image, consent, and exploration of intimacy. I think it’s important to recognize that the romance genre is the only literary genre primarily written by and for women. So, before we allow film bros and male literary professors to bash us for reading romance, remember the context the genre holds in our patriarchal society and the value the genre holds for women in the publishing industry. Reading romance could even be considered a form of resistance to patriarchal values and an intentional embracing of our femme culture. It’s important to embrace what we love regardless of society’s misogynistic values. So, the next time a film bro or your uptight literature professor asks you why you read romance, you can show them this article.

My first argument for romance novels: healthy conversations about consent. Many romance novels contain sexual content between the two protagonists. While impromptu acts of passion can be butterfly-inducing, I’ve noticed positive patterns of both protagonists asking for consent before they touch the other. For example, I’m reading a new hockey romance this week–Consider Me in the Playing for Keeps Series by Becka Mack. I don’t understand sports but I have a soft spot for hockey love stories. In Consider Me, the male protagonist, Carter, asks to hold the female protagonist, Olivia’s, hand when they’re on their first date at a movie theater. Small gestures like this might seem like fluff or rising action pummeling toward their happy ending, but they’re actually concrete examples of consent. Consent isn’t a strictly sexual topic–it appears in all areas of our lives and in different relationships. In every romance novel I’ve read, there are varying examples of consent within sexual intimacy, platonic relationships, and smaller physical touches, like hand-holding. 

Another topic that romance novels cover heavily, especially with the rise of authors of color (i.e. Ana Huang and Lauren Asher), is body image. As a woman of color, trying to accept my own body while only seeing white body ideals in the media has been difficult. So, when I read about women of color’s struggles with body image in my romance novels I feel instantly connected to the protagonist. For example, in The Fine Print by Lauren Asher, a recent hit on “BookTok”, the main character Zahra struggles to come to terms with her cellulite, stretch marks, and thicker thighs that come with her Armenian heritage. Her love interest, Rowan Kane, makes an active point of loving heavily on Zahra’s body, specifically the parts she’s insecure about. Asher also explores sex from Rowan’s perspective and we get to read how he worships Zarah’s body, her cellulite and stretch marks not even a thought in his mind.

Lastly, positive representation of intimacy centered around pleasure rather than solely male gratification. Many of us receive our unofficial sexual education from pornography and have unrealistic expectations of what sex is and what it could be. That’s why reading intimacy scenes written by women is so significant–it’s an accurate representation of pleasure, intimacy, and what an equal exchange in the bedroom should look like. If I was able to go back in time and receive my sexual education from my romance novels rather than a porn website, I would. Young people deserve to know how to have sex in a healthy, enjoyable, and consensual way–all of these things are represented in your run-of-the-mill romance novel.

So the next time someone tries to make you feel bad for reading a book with a shirtless man on the cover, remind them that 1) it’s none of their business and 2) romance novels contain so much more than just fluffy writing and meet-cutes. The substance within my favorite books has taught me so much about myself, intimacy, and femininity that I wouldn’t have learned without them. So, go pick up a sappy book and get reading!