Thursday, May 27, 2010
I have watched the development of academics specialising or dabbling in the study of romance fiction and as a person who is mostly an academic (I have been off the reservation a bit in the last few years) I kind of expected to be really interested in it. I spent some time trying to convince myself that I was interested in it. But I'm just not, and that's fine. Genre fiction has the glorious capacity to be as serious or as frivolous as you want it to be. But if I ever have to sit through two days of contemplative deconstruction of the gender dynamics of shapeshifter orgies or discourse analysis of the coy protestations of gothic ingenues it will be like I have lost my last refuge against a rising miasma of seriousity and self-importance.
And this really is not a criticism of Romance academia. I think every topic needs to have a serious side and a silly side and some people happily traverse both. But I am staying on the silly side and unapologetically and unironically enjoying erotic romance as a participant, not an observer.