My friend and I were talking about desire, and desire unmet, and he said something along the lines of: "No one can be in a perpetual state of orgasm. It would take too much energy, and we'd never get anything else done." His words made me think about being in love (as opposed to loving), another state in which most human beings cannot remain, at least not for more than a few months or years. As researcher Helen Fisher points out in "The Drive to Love: The Neural Mechanism for Mate Selection," people in love "experience extreme energy, hyperactivity, sleeplessness, impulsivity, euphoria, and mood swings," which are associated with "elevated activities of central dopamine," a neurotransmitter associated with pleasure (88). Being in love is almost akin, chemically, to being insane, Fisher argues.
Such a heightened state of being is by its nature impermanent; neither the body nor the brain can sustain such high levels of chemically-induced euphoria for the long term. Though the high of falling in love usually lasts longer than an orgasm, both physical and emotional highs are ones that cannot be permanently sustained.
Thinking about these similarities then made me wonder whether porn and romance novels might both be functioning in a similar way. What I mean is, might both be a kind of compensation, or perhaps a proxy, for what we desire but cannot have or be, at least not all the time? Porn compensates for our desire to be perpetually sexually aroused; romance novels compensate for our desire to be perpetually in love. Neither porn nor romance fulfills our desires directly, or permanently, but for the time while we are watching/reading, we can pretend that they do, and are.
Do you think the two are comparable in this way? Or in other ways that may be of interest to those of us who like to think analytically about romance?
"romance novels compensate for our desire to be perpetually in love"
ReplyDeleteFirstly, I'm not sure that we all do "desire to be perpetually in love" in the sense that most romance protagonists are experiencing it. For most of a romance novel the protagonists are likely to unsure if their love is requited or not. That's a kind of painful state to be in. Even once they make mutual admissions of love, they can then find there are obstacles to their HEA. Again, that's not a particularly comfortable position to be in and it's not one I have any desire to be in. The readers, by contrast, know full well that the protagonists are in love with each other and that they will succeed in gaining an HEA. So our experience is not exactly the same emotional experience as that of the protagonists. Depending on how much the author torments their protagonists, it could possibly be more akin to reading a horror novel, because there are intense emotions generated by not knowing quite what horrible thing is going to happen next.
Secondly, there are different kinds of readers: some people identify with one or more of the protagonists whereas others read from the position of an observer. Again, this is likely to affect the text's ability to function as "a proxy, for what we desire but cannot have or be". For a more detached reader, the feeling evoked by reading some romances may be more akin to those of the wise matchmaking/sounding-board characters who also often appear in romances. In some ways, that's not so different from the person reading a fantasy novel who's wanting the protagonist to succeed in their quest.
Thirdly, romances vary a lot in terms of how intense the emotional response in the intended reader is intended to be and also in terms of which emotional responses they're trying to elicit. A romantic comedy such as Georgette Heyer's Cotillion is not going to have exactly the same effects as a steampunk adventure romance or most inspirational romance novels.
Lots of fascinating comments, here, Laura. Some thoughts back at you:
DeleteFirst: From what I've read about the neuroscience of love, that feeling that you don't have any desire to be in—that unsure, uncomfortable, obstacle-ridden before the "I love yous" have been exchanged state—is a big part of what makes the "in love" feeling appealing. So even if we know that our characters are going to get a happy ending, we get to re-experience the uncertainty whenever we pick up a new romance.
Second: I don't know if anyone has done much studying of reading strategies & genre, but I'd hazard a guess that romance readers are more likely to be "close" readers rather than "distant" readers. What I mean is, I'd guess that romance readers (in general) would be more prone to identifying with the protagonists than readers who read primarily in other genres.
Third: Yes, I completely agree that there are different levels of emotional intensity in different subgenres of romance. And between different writers, and even between different books written by the same writer. I wonder, though, if only romances on the more intense end of the emotional scale can temporarily satisfy the urge to be "perpetually in love"? A steampunk adventure romance can have many different effects than an inspie romance does on a reader, but both include a central romance...
Great topic--hits both my neuroscientist and romance author spots!
ReplyDeleteI love to read romance for two feelings...the ooooh feeling (the sexy parts) and the oooomhp feeling...the solar plexus whack when the characters really see each other's soft spots and heart. It's awesome that there's a scientific explanation, and I get that it's addicting!
I wonder--and here's another topic for you, and science--how characters (and real people) get from the addictively painful weird psycho in-love feeling to the "yeah, I think I can spend the rest of my life with this person" knowledge. Obviously a lot of people get married while they're still in the middle of the addiction...the endorphins and neurotransmitters are screwing things up completely...but some work, and some don't...how does that even itself out? I wonder if the more "in love" someone is at the beginning bodes well, or not necessarily so well for after the feelings wear off?
The quote about perpetual orgasm leading to getting nothing else done reminds me of puberty and the wasted year that is seventh grade.
ReplyDeleteAccording to the book, "The Good Marriage," which purported to carry out semi-scientific surveys of happily married couples, one successful pattern of marriage is where both people describe fond memories of their initial infatuation and desire, even as that moves far into the past. According to my interpretation of that book, although the hormones and endorphins may fade, a pattern or habit of attraction is established that lasts.
Or, arguably those who are happy with each other will remember their meetings fondly, while others may curse the day they first laid eyes on each other. You asked for science, and I'm giving you pseudo-science at best.
Books may substitute for the emotions (including sexual desire) that we do not have ready access to in our lives, but I do not think the emotions could be constant, even from a book. The reader would be emotionally exhausted. It's the path of buildup and rise and fall of emotion that seems most powerful. Building of tension, climax, and denouement in books. Building of tension, climax, and refractory period (also known as cuddling) in sex. Perhaps this is an overly male perspective.
Perhaps I may be more simplistic in thinking, but there is another similarity between the two that I think is quite fitting. Both can become very addicting and difficult to manage without. Some people get 'addicted' to porn in that they need it for solo/partner sessions. And personally I feel that now that I started reading romance novels in earnest, I can only branch out for a book or two before I MUST return to romantic stories.
ReplyDelete