I Hate the Way They Love

I Hate the Way They Love

Written by Sara Fergang

Art by Olivia Kardos

Pretty, pink, pastel paperbacks with swoopy, cursive lettering and simplistic doodles of a young man and woman standing apart to represent their tension propped up on a table display at Barnes and Noble. I make my way to the table, enticed by the illustrated covers and embossed text. But I know I won’t buy any of them. I hate romance books. 

Okay, I know that sounds harsh. I don’t hate love and I don’t mind a cliché rom-com, but romance books have never been my thing. As an avid reader, I consume books instead of movies or television. I would much rather binge-read a book series than binge-watch a TV series. So when I turn to fictional worlds to escape reality, I gravitate toward the pages of a book and get sucked into the magnitude of worlds they contain. I know I can’t be the only one who has a distaste for this literary genre. Celeste Sanchez ‘25, a Business of Creative Enterprises major, comments, “Romance books tend to follow the same cliché tropes and have predictable endings, which wouldn’t be too bad of a thing if the writing was better or if the story was more creative and inclusive. Some popular romance books tend to perpetuate and romanticize toxic and harmful relationships, which is incredibly harmful and something I’d rather not read.” 

While romance books are fiction, I wanted to reflect upon why I can’t read them if I like reading so much, and it’s a bit personal. I think I’m just jealous. I’ve never been in a real relationship before, and I’m not a hopeless romantic. I cherish my friendships and support my friends’ romantic endeavors. But when it comes to myself, I can’t make it past the talking stage. The last love story I read was Beach Read by Emily Henry. I discovered this book on TikTok, where #BookTok has amassed 121.4 billion views. This story focuses on two authors, January and August, with more than just emotional tension as they strike a deal with one another to get out of their writer’s block. Throughout the novel, January and August go from despising one another to having intimate moments and becoming more than just colleagues. By the end, I began to feel envious of January and August. Getting to live vicariously through January’s newfound love wasn’t entirely satisfying for me. It’s not like I wasn’t rooting for her; however, I realized I haven’t been rooting for myself. Instead of pushing myself to meet people and make the first move, I would go back to reading, awaiting a relationship that can’t happen if I don’t put myself out there. But these books are fiction, and as I mark another book as “read” on Goodreads, I have to remind myself that these stories aren’t real. I must be the author of my own love story. 

Maura Cowan, ‘23, a Journalism major, has a more nuanced take on her feelings about romance books:

“There was a time in my life that I really enjoyed a simple, young adult teen romance. Most of these were early installations into the queer YA literary canon, and at that time, discovering the existence of romance novels that weren’t centered around cis straight people (or that even allowed for the possibility of queerness) was powerful for me. I was desperate to consume any sort of representation I could find, but it wasn’t too long before I started growing frustrated that all romances—whether portraying a gay or straight relationship—fell into similar traps. When I steered away from romance,I grew more interested in reading about other kinds of relationships.”

In 2023, we don’t have enough queer love stories and the only one that has accumulated much success is Casey McQuiston’s Red, White & Royal Blue, which has over four stars from 704,852 ratings on Goodreads. While romance books are fictional, people like to see themselves in the books they read, so if all love stories perpetuate heteronormative relationships, they establish societal and cultural norms that some people are barred from being a part of. Books shouldn’t have the power to do this, but unfortunately, they do.

I don’t think I’ll ever truly enjoy romance books, and that’s okay. They aren’t for everyone. And I think that plays a huge role in the publication of that genre: they aren’t written for all readers. Even though I don’t like to read these stories, it doesn’t mean that others shouldn’t get the opportunity to enjoy them and see their own relationships reflected on the pages. And maybe one day I’ll be able to relate to them a bit more as I build up the courage to take on my own romantic endeavors.

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