first published in the Brisbane Courier-Mail 21 April 2007
Has the use of the word ‘hero’ to describe the main character of a romance novel led to some close-mindedness about who or what he can be? There’s no denying his importance. Jayne Ann Krentz nailed it in an essay in her Dangerous Men and Adventurous Women anthology, stating: ‘A romance can survive a bad heroine, but never a bad hero.’
But what makes a hero heroic? Historicals introduced the concept of the protector hero, the man able to care for the heroine and see to all her needs. Military romances took it a step further with the alpha hero, he of the strong jaw, rigid control, and type-A personality. Finally, paranormals brought in the ultra-alpha, able to get away with high-handedness to rival a dictator because he is not human and because he has the heroine’s best interests at heart. Is it any wonder that we’d see a backlash of anti-heroes?
Unfortunately for writers bucking the trend, however, it looks as if a certain number of publishers and readers are not ready yet for heroes lacking a clefted chin and noble brow. Elizabeth Hoyt, who made a splash last year with The Raven Prince, was rejected by almost every major publishing house because her hero was unheroic, scarred from small pox and bad-tempered. A writer friend received the same criticism because her hero swears and compares the soaked-through heroine to a drowned rodent. And local writer Anna Campbell has seen some very heated commentary on the actions of her damaged hero.
Defining heroism is akin to nailing jelly to the wall. Much like beauty, heroism is in the eye of the beholder. It shifts and changes not only from person to person, but culture to culture, moment to moment. Some of the most compelling current cultural currency revolves around anti-heroes. Prison Break features a group of cons escaped from jail. Sure they’re all criminals, but no one is barracking for the cops. George Clooney and Brad Pitt made theft glamorous in Ocean’s 11 and 12. The Dexter series, both the books by Jeff Lindsay and the television series, have been wildly successful.
I don’t want to resort to calling a hero the protagonist. There’s an affection, a rich past associated with our romance hero, one I’m not keen to give up. However, I’m equally unwilling to only accept one type of character in my reading. One of the things I love best about romance is the vastness of the genre, the breadth of the storylines. When it comes to heroes, let’s make room enough for both the super- and the mere hu-man.
