Sophie ponders the romantic hero in the light of recent events
Has the 21st century romantic hero passed his sell-by date?
We have talked a lot about romantic heroes here at Libertà Books over the last 10 years. (Ouch!) Predictably we looked to our reading for our favourites. Joanna adores Freddy in Cotillion, as do all right-thinking people. I couldn’t identify an archetypal hero, but definitely fell for Eva Ibbotson’s Marek in a Song of Summer, based in part on a man she’d known.
A turbulent start to the year in the wider world has set me off wondering how much our expectations of heroes has changed since we first encountered Mr Darcy. Looks are probably more important. Style, too. I don’t remember that Jane Austen ever said what her hero was wearing or what he looked like. Except that he certainly wouldn’t have been a) casual or b) bearded.
So are there any defining qualities of these 21st century hot properties? Well how much money he has seems to be one.
Billionaire Romance
Yes, there’s a whole sub section devoted to billionaires in the romance list at online bookstores and they are usually the heroes. The Barnes and Noble Page Billionaire Romance website appears to offer 50 pages of them. With 20 books a page, I stopped looking at 5.
And, yes they’ve gathered up other genres in there, including historical. One of Julia Quinn’s orginal Bridgerton titles was on that page when I looked at it. Now, whatever liberties romantic authors might take with the early 19th century, none of them would endow a Regency hero with billions. Ten thousand a year was Mr Darcy’s income and it was a fortune!
But a clever bookseller wouldn’t misallocate a title to an unpopular page. So those 50 pages say that “billionaire” is a popular label for your romantic hero. Or has been so far. Will it continue?
The billionaires crawling out of the Epstein files and into the Who Funds the Parties? (not to mention Who Benefits from Tariffs?) lists aren’t likely to enhance the brand. For one thing, so far they are tending to show up as both grubby and greedy and extremely keen to stay both.
Meet Cute and the Billionaire
Now this one’s really going to be a problem with billionaires. I calculate there are four ways to meet your hero: at home, at work, by accident, probably extreme, or socially (included if you deliberately go after him.).
At home is a non-starter unless you’re already in the Billionaire circuit. That’s certainly possible, but not very compelling unless you have a really ghastly billionaire family. In which case why would you want another one?
At work is by far the most popular. Your billionaire, occasionally also labelled The Tycoon (smooth hair and cuff links) or even The Boss (untidy hair and a stetson). Like the great god Zeus, he knocks Ms Nobody off her stilettos and whisks her away on his yacht or to his penthouse under the stars. Um, yes. But would you really want to be alone with this guy? I mean you’d want to know where he’d – er – been.
After what we now know about the Epstein menage, you’d need to find out, wouldn’t you? And even if your heroine isn’t letting that cross her mind, it sure as hell is going to be there for the reader.
And as for socially…. well, 21st century society is a minefield, isn’t it?
Social Opportunities
In previous centuries there were rules, or at least a code of behaviour, that unattached woman could generally rely on. In some societies there still are.
The historical novelist is on reasonably safe ground. Among the wealthy and/or respectable, young ladies have chaperones, older women paid companions – see Georgette Heyer. Innocence and foolishness are both a risk. But the romantic hero does NOT exploit either. Indeed in The Foundling the disinterested hero goes to considerable lengths to rescue a prime target from the consequences of her actions. Thereby he gains several points in hero status over gorgeous cousin Gideon. (Be still my beating heart. I’ve ALWAYS wanted to write the reform of glorious Gideon.) Knowing the rules of decent behaviour is the key.
But expansion in travel and education over the last 50 years or so has dropped us into such a melting pot that commonly agreed rules are out. Even guidelines aren’t clear. The independent heroine — and let’s face it, nobody’s going to have much time for a heroine who’s a wimp — has to decide her own standards of conduct, which is interesting and fun for a writer.
So what about the hero? In the classic meet cute, the heroine, approaches him from the outside. She learns about him from his behaviour first and then, crucially, from the behaviour of his peer group. And that’s where, like gorgeous Gideon, but far far worse, the billionaire loses out.
Peer Group Problems
We know too much about that billionaire peer group these days, I fear.
Consider. The most powerful man in the world is a Billionaire, at least theoretically. If he isn’t, he wants to be. Anyway, he is the Billionaires’ Best Friend and Advocate.
This guy constantly talks about women with contempt, demeaning them face to face on camera and in his social media posts. And cheerfully grabs any bits of one he fancies in passing, And lies a lot. Possibly without even realising that there is such a thing as objective fact. And gives instructions that cause untold misery.
Positive qualities? Wit? Kindness? Builds a mean tree house? Patron of the Arts? Hmm. Still looking.
His closest billionaire ally acts the very same way. Neither of them seems to have any guiding principle except their own self interest. Neither of them, frankly, seems quite sane, at least to me.
Indeed, there is a sort of club of billionaires gathered round him, so wealthy that they cannot help their wealth increasing, every day. What do they actually DO? It looks like they move fast and break things. Proudly. And go get more.
And then out come the files of a disgraced person who played host to the society of rich and powerful. Lots of names are redacted but what is clear is the sort of fun and games that these people revelled in. And it’s really, really toe-curlingly horrible.
So what’s left to like? Much less fall in love with.
Invite a half way literate woman to a party at a billionaire’s luxury pad today? Forget it. Long weekend on his Caribbean island? I think she’d run screaming.
Conclusion?
Looks the billionaire hero of romantic fiction is, as they at the poker table, a busted flush. Gamblers, now …
Sophie
I’m with Joanna on Cotillion’s Freddie, Sophie. The billionaire as hero was never author driven, it was the publisher upping the title stakes from millionaire. I still shudder at some of mine and, when I get the rights back to those titles, the billionaires will be banished – possibly to the detriment of sales since a quick glance at the publishers website demonstrates they are still front and centre of the titles. Maybe they are like sheikhs. No one takes the idea of them seriously. They are a cypher. A romantic fantasy for a bad day.
I agree with you Liz, and also with Sophie. And I’m glad I’m writing historicals — where there were rules — and fantasy where I don’t have to deal with the horribleness (?) of the real world. Maybe it’s that horribleness that accounts for the rising popularity of romantasy and fairies and witchcraft and cosies, generally. Readers don’t want to engage with any “hero” who even vaguely resembles a real billionaire/sheikh/tycoon. So I’ll get back to my fantasy where my hero has a code of conduct and integrity.
I’ve noticed an increasing trend to call all kinds of genres “cosy”, Joanna, including romance. The billionaires are, however, a gift to the gorier end of the crime genre and thriller writers!
I suppose back then billionaire, and millionaire before it, were code for extremely rich and therefore what Brenda Macdougall, editor of Woman’s Weekly in the 80s, called “good provider potential”.
I suppose you can’t blame the publishers for the nasty associations that have been flying stick to to the concept since. Though they’ve been around long enough now for the term to start putting readers off in a big way.
I think sheikh is a different kettle of fish, probably because of the Arabian Nights, Omar Khayyam and E M Hull plus Rudolf Valentino. Reality doesn’t touch the character on the page.
Tycoon, though. Hmm. Of course it would be perfectly possible to make sure that your tycoon was an absolute model of every other romantic quality. It’s not a word with much traction at the moment. But after the last 18 months or so, I’d say billionaire was unsalvageable.
I’m in general agreement with you here, Sophy. Todays billionaires tend to be more like ghastly anti-heroes. But even though the setting is historical (just), I would say that Guy Farne, in Eva Ibbotson’s Magic Flutes would probably be close to a billionaire. I loved him as a hero — except for his willingness to create mines. But in all other respects he was a lovely man.