Tuesday, July 11, 2023

Complaint: The Right to Love is Not a Right

The people who love to create rules about everything have added another one: The right to love!

The phrase, unfortunately, does not refer to the right to love others--but to the right to BE loved ("love" as a noun, not a verb). 

My problem here goes beyond the ethical issue, but I'll attend to the ethical issue first. Any right that insists on other people's compliance--rather than the right-holder's liberty to pursue an end--is suspect. Defending someone in doing something is not the same as defending someone who will make other people do something.
 
There is a world of difference between the right "to work, speak my mind, and marry" and the tyranny of "other people ought to give me that job, other people ought to listen to me, and other people ought to want to marry me."
 
Love in relationships involves at least one other person. It's not a right.
 
The bigger problem, here, is the lecturing tone that creeps into romance stories.
 
The beauty of romance is the "falling off a cliff" quality, the unexpectedness, the marvel of soulmates discovering each other, of a relationship growing and working. Demanding it as some kind of "I was born--now the next part of life must occur" not only creates constantly dissatisfied people, it creates stories that true romantics would rather not read.
 
Suppose Jane Eyre goes to work for Mr. Rochester and when he declares his affection, she responds, "Well, of course. Based on everything I've been through, I deserve to earn someone's affection."
 
Or suppose that instead of being disappointed at Elizabeth's initial refusal--and learning something about himself as a result--Darcy responds, "But my suffering must be alleviated. I'm owed the love of a good woman."
 
Sounds pretty awful, doesn't it? 
 
So why is it being advocated?
 
I doubt the reviewers and writers who argue for "the right to be loved" are thinking about the characters themselves. The characters should doubt, then act relieved and happy and elated when their love is returned, when they find someone who speaks on their wavelength. 
 
Except the reviewers and writers then declare: Let that be a lesson to all of us! The characters got what everyone should get.

Inevitably, the latter attitude will creep into the writing. Characters begin to lose their sense of personal responsibility. They act put out when things don't go their way. After awhile, they begin to resemble spoiled brats who mustn't be challenged by life or by others. Giveme giveme giveme. 
 
One reason I read manga and resort to Asian BL as much as I do is because the sense of "wow--a relationship actually happened to me--isn't it wonderful?!" is still present. As well as a sense of personal responsibility. In comparison, on occasion, Western romance is a little too...
 
Self-satisfied. 
 
Where's my romance? Hasn't it arrived yet? Here are all the reasons I deserve one!
 
(There are good Western romances out there--just a whole lot of chaff to get out of the way.) 
 
It is impossible to invest in characters with the above mental framework--not outside of "here's a good little story where all the approved-of people are rewarded and all the disapproved-of people suffer" moralistic tale-telling.
 
I often feel that these particular romance writers are about two seconds away from lecturing readers, non-ironically, on HOW and HOW NOT to court real life people, especially those writers who produce non-humorous trigger warnings. Here's the list. Now, obey. 
 
Romance is big and human and random and risky enough to withstand this lessening of its fundamental power. But I make the protest anyway: 
 
Leave the magic of romance alone! Stop shoveling rules and tut-tutting on top of potentially good stories!