lying for a living

Sharon Kendrick, a regular commenter on this blog, continues her run as Britain’s most articulate — and funniest — advocate for romance writing. Last night, BBC TV’s The One Show had a feature on the 100th anniversary of her publisher, Mills and Boon. With her usual panache, Sharon described the key ingredients in a successful romance novel, beginning with “A powerful, passionate, autocratic, and filthy rich hero.”

Of course the feature included the usual “Who admits to reading these books?” bit, along with some unsurprising cultural commentary. Romance novels are… unrealistic. (No kidding.) Escapist. (That’s the point of romance novels.) Slight. (Duh — by definition, frothy entertainment shouldn’t be heavy.)

Are they my thing? No. But whenever a feature on romance writing develops a sneer, or quotes a woman (as the BBC did) who says, “We don’t believe in romantic fantasy. We’re liberal feminists,” I roll my eyes. Stop sounding so stale. What is this, 1971? Quit acting like a Ms. magazine cliche and come up with a fresh critique of the genre. (It harms sheikhs and Greek tycoons, who face pressure to live up to unrealistic expectations about their romantic prowess. Or it monopolizes the world’s supply of adverbs.) Besides: frowning, ideological condescension makes me want to take to the barricades in defense of frothy entertainment. Romance novels aren’t going to undermine women’s rights, any more than Barbie is going to destroy the revolution in Iran.

But the Mills and Boon segment was merely the prelude to a glorious display of idiocy. Another guest on the show was Geri Halliwell, alias Ginger Spice. She looked great, with her red curls and frothy miniskirt, and was obviously delighted to be in the studio, judging from the manic, hedgehog-in-the-headlights gleam in her eyes. After the feature she was asked whether she read romance novels. The next minute went like this.

• Geri admits that she loves romance novels. (When she was eleven, she discovered Jackie Collins.) At this point, she crosses her legs and her filmy skirt whisks into the air, wriggling higher and higher up her thighs, until the host finally asks her to pull it down. And tack it to her knees.
• She explains that her mom has the novels in Spanish. And so she “nicked” a title and used it “when she was writing” one of her songs: “Donde esta el hombre con fuego en la sangre?” ( “Where is the man with fire in the blood?”)
• After watching a montage of (hilarious) Mills and Boon covers, she gets an intense look in her eyes and says, “Are they still going, then?” Keeping their faces heroically straight, the hosts tell her, yes — it’s Mills and Boon’s 100th anniversary. Unsaid: Yes, you twit — that’s why we’ve been talking about them here on national TV for the PAST FIVE MINUTES.

Flashing, a confession to plagiarism, and a display of ignorance that would shame a moldy head of cauliflower, all in the space of 45 seconds. You can’t beat live television.

(If you’re in the UK, you can watch the episode until May 8 here.)