Waiting for Tea and Crumpets, Part 3
Thursday, January 26th, 2006
Please pardon my own over-use of euphemisms in this post–the filter on our system was going nuts, so to keep it happy, I had to take out some of the words it didn’t like.
I don’t like explicit “love” scenes, for a number of reasons.
IMHO, there really doesn’t seem to be a way to write such a scene without sounding clinical, crude, or just downright ridiculous (I’m sure I’ll get plenty of people telling me how wrong I am). The clinical and the crude turn me off enough that often I’ll stop reading the book. It has to be an extra-enthralling story for me to merely skip that scene and continue reading. (Though when I read John Jakes’ North and South trilogy way back in the eighth grade, I remember pointing out the worst scenes to my friends and we’d ick and ugh over how disgusting they were. Remember, most eighth-grade boys still had cooties, so the thought of such actions was doubly icky. )
And I can’t read the overly-euphemistic type with out laughing (the now infamous “manroot”), which not only ruins the mood of the scene, but also pulls me out of the characters, so that I can’t take the rest of the book seriously (if I even bother to finish it). For the best examples of this sort of book, visit Snarkling Clean. Robyn and Missie are especially good at picking out such over-the-top euphemisms. Their partial list here is an absolute hoot (and for good measure, go read their comments on romance novel covers. My husband and I ’bout died laughing).
Explicit scenes also make me feel like a Peeping Jane, especially if I’ve gotten attached to the characters. I feel like I should give them some privacy for their little tea party. Somebody once called such fully-described, down-and-dirty scenes “female porn.” I think that’s an extremely harsh statement, and one that’ll bring a load of angry nastygrams my way. I’m not saying I agree with the statement (remember that before you email me all up in arms and indignant), but it sometimes pops into my head when I come across such “love” scenes.
Which leads to yet another thing that bothers me–the phrase “making love.” Sex does not equal love. Many times it’s merely lust, plain and simple. They are in it only for the physical, not because they care about each other. So don’t call it a love scene merely because there are tea and crumpets involved. I think a love scene can have absolutely no sex, no kissing, not even touching. I read one story where the hero knew his new wife was terrified of intimacy because of a near-ravishing. He wanted her, but he was willing to hold in his own desires, to wait and allow her to go at her own pace, because he loved her. No sex, no kissing, yet I would call such a scene a true love scene.
Whew. Okay, I think I’ve done enough damage for one week {Nessili climbs slowly and gingerly off her soapbox and looks around nervously for flying tomatoes}. Next time I’ll try to post on a topic a wee bit less controversial.