Religious Beliefs: Nice Guys, Jerks, and the Romance Writer

By Anna C. Bowling

The topic of religious beliefs comes to Unusual Historicals at a very appropriate time. Right now, I am moderating an online workshop on writing the inspirational romance, and preparing to give the message (others might use the term "sermon" or "teaching") at house church this week. Faith is an important part of my life, and that carries over into my writing. Though I haven't written for the inspirational market before, who knows what the future will bring? For the moment, I'm having fun with general market historicals and dabbling in time travel.

A little personal information before we get into the topic proper. I consider myself nondenominational Christian. I prefer a more intuitive sort of worship, but the DH likes more structured prayers. Among our friends, we have those of the Jewish persuasion; secular, Reformed and Messianic sorts; others who would class themselves as some combination of Buddhist, Wiccan or different pagan paths; the not-really-spiritual; plus Catholic and various protestant and non-denoms. When I wore my Blackbeard t-shirt with the infamous pirate's flag on it into a local store this past autumn, the clerk commented that it was the "time for the scaries" celebrations back in his home in India, around the same time as we have Halloween here in the USA. I've learned a lot from all of them, even though we don't agree on everything. Some things, yes. Some things, maybe. And some, well, we have to agree to disagree, and carry on carrying on.

Today, we might call such a mix of friends normal and have, as I did, an interesting discussion with the clerk over different celebrations. Some of the best conversations can be among friends of differing outlooks, sharing why they walk the path they do. In that, I think I can safely say we're blessed (or lucky, if you prefer), but in previous times (and some parts of the world even today, sadly) where different faiths might make friendships difficult, not to mention love affairs and even--gasp--marriage. Families on either side might have something to say against such a relationship, and even take drastic measures to keep it from happening, while others might prefer to find common ground and respect differences.

Henry VIII broke from the Catholic church so he might divorce his barren first wife and seek a more fertile bride...and kept on seeking. Houses in England constructed during that time might have had priest holes--secret rooms, sometimes no more than a closet or the size of a coffin, where Catholics hid from those seeking to do them harm. Catholics and Puritans didn't mix well during the Protectorate of Oliver Cromwell, and yet both found themselves faced with losses during the English Civil War.

Merely being Jewish during the time between world wars in Europe meant incredibly high stakes, never knowing when the knock on the door would end life as they knew it. Even so, bonds of friendship, love and marriage have formed across faiths for centuries, with no signs of stopping. Similarly, ask any member of a congregation, meeting, synagogue, coven, etc, about the group dynamics, and you'll hear about annoyances, betrayals, pet peeves, and bad habits, as well as heartwarming stories of support, generosity and going the extra mile. At a given moment, that depends largely on the individuals involved. This is what I've found most important in exploring a character's spirituality: the individual.

Plainly put, there are nice guys and jerks in all belief systems. While it's easy to rely on stock figures--the wise, mystic Easterner who sounds like he moonlights as a fortune cookie writer; the dour Puritan who never smiles, hates everything, and probably has never read his Bible because he's too busy smacking people with it; and so on--a writer can get far more mileage by showing the individual rather than the stereotype. For example, what images come to mind when I say "the Pope"? For some, the leader of their faith. For others, someone they wouldn't invite to dinner unless something lethal were on the menu.


For me, the first thing that I think of is Pope John Paul II wearing Bono's sunglasses, with both men looking appropriately impressed. That picture touches on a side of the man many may not think of at first, but doesn't it make him all the more human?

Which, of course, is a great tool for writers, especially those of romance. One of my favorite uses of spirituality in romance is Laura Kinsale's SHADOWHEART, where Allegretto, the hero, believing himself to be damned already, finally gives in to the heroine's pleas to go to confession. She won't until he will, and he believes there's still hope for her. He won't put her soul in jeopardy, and so he changes. Annette Blair's Amish historical, THEE I LOVE, shows an Amish community making a difficult decision to place what is right above a circumstance that might force them to do otherwise. Francine Rivers' "Mark of the Lion" trilogy shows a wide spectrum of first-century spirituality and good, bad and ugly behavior among not only the early Christian Church, but Jewish, Roman and German communities of the period.

It's the variety of the individual that makes every relationship unique, and as romance writers, that's one of our biggest goals: to make our couples stand out as lovers, so that readers will long remember them and want to visit again and again. Religion may play a small, large or somewhere-in-between part in a particular character's life, and those around them may have a wide range of faiths, but all have the same needs: to love and be loved. Individuals read our stories, and that's a special relationship, one to nurture. No matter what a character's religious persuasion (or lack thereof), if we as writers can make a reader connect with their deepest feelings, cry with their losses and rejoice in their triumphs, then we've done our job.

Should rape be allowed in historical romance?

There's a topic stirring controversy in romance blogland. As I read through blogs this morning before work, I found myself asking this question.

Should rape be allowed in historical romance?

The controversy comes from Claiming the Courtesan, an Avon book written by debut author Anna Campbell. In the book, the hero rapes the heroine. Some opine that such actions harken back to the days of bodice ripper romances. Just to see what the public terms a "bodice ripper," I looked up the term on Wiki.

Bodice Ripper:

"A bodice ripper is a genre of romantic fiction, often historical fiction. In the 1970s and 1980s, the heroine of such a novel often lost her virginity by force. While the genre has turned away from the trope of forced seduction contemporary bodice rippers still feature unrestrained romantic passion, and a heroine who initially dislikes and actively resists the hero s seduction, only ultimately to be overcome by desire. These historical romances did not shy away from sensational topics such as rape, slavery, the loss of family members, and the effects of poverty and disease."

The period from 1970-1980 saw explosive growth in the sale of these books, and romance today accounts for more than 40% of all fiction commercially sold. Historical romances published by the largest presses (Avon, Warner, etc) are written to strictly enforced guidelines which shy away from the depravity found in older books. Those guidelines frequently mandate perfect fidelity between hero and heroine, no abduction, forced seduction or rape."

I guess whoever posted this at Wiki hasn't read Claiming the Courtesan yet.

The term "strictly enforced guidelines" makes me queasy. "Strictly enforced" and "guidelines" clash. Guidelines aren't rules. Are bodice ripper police out there, reading books, blowing the whistle and screaming if these guidelines are violated?

If we were to follow the Wiki entry and write to strictly enforced guidelines/rules, then we restrict ourselves as authors to NOT include any of the aforementioned elements. Not only rape, but poverty, disease, slavery and loss of family members. Yet history is crammed with these elements. Violence. Rape. Death. Should they be included in an historical romance? We write historicals and set them in a variety of time periods. Many of us include authentic history in our stories. Do we ignore what really happened?

We do, anyway. Historical fact: Medieval knights didn't bathe frequently. But no one wants to read about a hero who smells like a high school locker room in summer. It's not romantic.

What if the hero rapes the heroine and she falls in love with him? He violated her. Is it wrong to include such an element in an historical? Do we dare step off that springboard and dive into the murky waters to explore that question? Or do we stay in the shallow waters where it's safer and we can easily see what lies below?

I've written two historicals with rape in them, however, the hero did not rape the heroine. In The Cobra and the Concubine, Badra the heroine is raped as a little girl by her abductor. I based her character on restavek children in Haiti I've met in my travels who are domestic slaves, and frequently beaten and abused. To gain insight about psychological damage, I interviewed a psychologist who counsels child rape victims.

In Cobra, there's a character who bonds with Badra. He too, was raped as a child. I couldn't get Graham out of my mind. Something inside me screamed to write his story. That book became The Panther & the Pyramid. The book drew positive and negative reaction. Even my husband asked, "Why did you write it like that?"

My answer was simple, "I couldn't ignore his past. I had to do justice to his character."

I'm grateful my editor and publisher did not place restrictions on me when I wrote Graham's story. This freedom enabled me to draw deep inside myself as a writer.

Should rape be allowed in historical romance? My answer is yes, if it fits the story the author wants to tell. We owe it to readers to deliver the best story we can write. That's the ultimate pact an author makes to a reader. For me, Nora Roberts' comment summed it up best on Dear Author’s blog.

"Rules, for me, aren't meant to be broken just because they exist. That's ego. They should be broken if the story demands it. That’s writing."

Break the rules for the sake of writing. If the story calls for it, dive away into that pool. As historical authors, if we place restrictions on ourselves, we limit our ability to explore topics that challenge us as writers.

Do you think rape should be allowed in historical romance? What's your opinion?

Politically Correct with Karen Mercury

I specialize in novels set in colonial Africa. This poses its own set of problems. How do you portray racism with any degree of historical integrity, and still remain accessible and inoffensive? To what degree are you willing to put yourself on a limb and create a character who isn’t in step with the mores of our "modern times"? (Heh, heh. I love having historical characters talk about their "modern times.") Of course there's always the bad guy, or the colorful red shirt guy, who can effectively display all the characteristics we now find so heinous. The filthy slob who refuses to bathe, for instance. It's never the hero. The hero never even has facial hair. What if we were to give our heroes some of these odious features (and I don't mean a moustache)? Hmm, I doubt the book would even sell in the first place.

The answer for me, so far, is...You don’t. I suppose that’s why I'm asking now. I've managed to skirt these inflammatory issues by simply not addressing them. I've barely mentioned slavery in my books, because I feel it's such a huge issue unto itself that even to make it the topic of one scene would detract from the action of the entire book. By now, pretty much everyone knows that slavery is bad, and non-slavery is good. I've studied slavery for 40 years, but it's just not something I'm willing to address in fiction.

In my first novel, set in 1897 in what is now Nigeria, an early scene displayed the dynamics between the hero and his best friend, both from Alabama:

Evin couldn't speak but the most base of the Edo language, just enough to order things in the market. Brendan was proud of his own facility with languages. "I reckon my graphophone records got hung up in Casablanca, too. I'm waiting on that Il Trovatore."
Evin said, "I'm waiting on those coon songs myself. Bill Newcomb over in Albertville's sending me Hogan's new sheet music. 'All Coons Look Alike to Me.'"
Brendan smirked. "That's a mighty ironic title to be teaching these Edo folk."

Brendan, of course, is the hero. With no facial hair.

I got a bit of shit for that from my first editor. She wrote squiggly red question marks all over it. I explained that one of the first wax cylinder recordings was Ernest Hogan singing this popular ditty, and it was part of the rich tradition of "coon songs" that preceded ragtime. (I believe there's only one group extant who continues this great tradition -- the McIntosh County Shouters -- and they still call it "coon shouting." If you try to order a CD, you call up and talk to the lead singer, and if you send a check, eventually she might send you a CD, if she likes you.) Anyway, my editor seemed to buy it, because it's intact in the final book.

Much as we all know that non-slavery is good, we also know that non-child-abuse is good, but when and in what manner is it appropriate to address it in our books?

For my third pirate book, the H/H are arguing, and unbeknownst to them, in the doorway lurks a young cabin boy (who I modeled on that adorable towheaded kid from Master and Commander).

"Are you sure, Tomaj? Slushy and that Zaleski fellow give me the creeps oftentimes. How is it that Boneaux entrusted him with this message? I just feel that perhaps you shouldn’t be so free with your information—"
"Are you poking Charlie at my mates?" piped Bellingham, who had evidently been standing in the open doorway. He gave a stiff bow to Tomaj, but continued braying, "Zaleski’s been my sea daddy since I came up through the hawse pipe! He’d go through the hoop for Cap'n Balásházy!"
Dagny held her hands out toward the boy. "Oh, dear Bellingham. Don't misunderstand me. I'm sure they're fine, upright men, perhaps when in your company and in the capacity of teachers, or—"
"Aye, they may frig about on a time, but they'd never be in league with a bilgey like Boneaux!"
"All right, Bellingham!" Tomaj felt compelled to shout, standing betwixt the boy and woman. "To your quarters on the double! I’ll not have you eavesdropping or insulting my guests. You may apologize to Miss Ravenhurst."
"Sorry, Mademoiselle. But you'd best clear the yardarm in this instance. Zaleski and Slushy—"
Whap! Bellingham's delicate etiolated face instantly went red when Tomaj slapped it. "That’s enough, Bellingham!" Tomaj screamed with enough force to blow the boy into the hallway with his voice. He shoved the scrambling youth out of the room, slamming the door behind Bellingham's flapping limbs.
Dagny stood with her hand to her open mouth. "Tomaj!"
"I’m sorry, malala. He can be an annoying little powder-monkey, for one who has been so elevated in position. Why, when I found him at Saint Helena, he was just a ragamuffin—"
"No! I mean, how dare you strike him? Did you know that that poor boy doesn't even know his given name? You don't care for him as a father should, Tomaj! It's no small wonder he looks up to Slushy and Zaleski, when the man who should be standing father to him all but ignores him, except to slap and reprimand him!"

Here I'm probably treading into even worse waters. Who is this hero, if he runs around striking poor defenseless cabin boys? I tried to give enough of the mood of the scene to show that, within context, Bellingham was actually out of line, because a few Chinese pirates were about to crash through Tomaj's window. And of course, at the time, cabin boys, and pirates in general, were constantly being walloped about the head.

Has there been something inapropos to modern times that you've refrained from mentioning in a novel? I know we'd all like to think we’re completely 100% accurate historically, but sometimes "modern times" stand in our way.