“Nothing on earth is as strong as a woman who’s good and fed up.”
p. 10
The Bromance Book Club
Lyssa Kay Adams
I have been screaming about this book since about page 5 to any one of my bookish friends who I can get to listen to me. It is pure escapist fluff, and does what all good romance novels do, introduce you to two characters that find themselves in relationship purgatory. It is also satisfactorily meta that the references it makes to the genre are earnest without being cheesy, and tap into the aforementioned escapism — because in what world do hunky straight men get together to talk about their feelings, interpersonal relationships, and work on dismantling the patriarchy through the lenses provided by reading romance novels in order to become better romantic partners?
In Adams’s version of Nashville is “what world”, apparently.
Gavin is a major league baseball player, and has just discovered his wife has been faking her O’s for the entirety of their 3 year marriage so far. Exiled from home, he is reluctantly ambushed into joining the men’s reading group with a cast of characters intent on helping him repair his relationship thanks to the self-awareness granted from reading romance novels. Obviously, there’s a lot more going wrong in his relationship than sex, and his wife Thea tells him as much.
There is something so appealing about a woman who doesn’t feel the need to control her tongue anymore, and something so validating in reading a woman’s reclamation of herself. I truly hope that more women don’t see themselves in that facet of Thea, but given the circumstances of life, I think it’s one of her biggest points of appeal. It’s so easy to get caught up in self-righteousness and indignation, but both Thea and Gavin have work to do in their lives and in their relationship, and Adams does an amazing job at bringing compelling nuance to what could be a slice of hum-drum life.
As I read, I often found myself thinking to “if the men find out we can shape shift, they’re going to tell the church” by Sailor J (embedded left). The vibe is the same; because it is startling to hear such evocative psychoanalysis of why women read romance, taken as creed and applied, even in a humorous meta-context. So while Sailor J applies make-up with riveting and pointed social commentary, there is a glaring je ne sais quoi which overtook me in the scene of the men who indeed, seem to have found out we can shape shift, but using it for good instead of ill purposes.
I cannot speak to the authenticity of parenthood portrayed here as I am still child-free by choice, but as a reader I wasn’t as turned off as I thought I would be reading a book from their perspective. For those who do not want children in their romance novels, fair. There is not an insignificant amount of time dedicated to the family aspect of their relationship in The Bromance Book Club, however I think it might prove to be a worth while exception to the “child-less romance” rule because their identities outside of being a parent are well developed, and have an impact on the story.
In terms of steam, while there is certainly some great chemistry on the page, I was really more enamored with the relationship, and the sex is fairly tame. So while it’s steamy, there’s very little spice. Take from that what you will, but it really was the characters who entranced me.
It’s easy to love Gavin as the hero of the story, as he comes off as a bit of a himbo in the beginning, and it was refreshing to read a romance about repairing a relationship rather than starting off with characters who are new to the other. Yes, there are the classic elements I have come to know and love about romance — the beautiful bodies, the witty flirting, the internal doubt and conflict, grand gestures, everything. But there’s something truly fulfilling reading about a man doing the work, even if Thea is in denial about it due to her own baggage and biases.
I don’t know if this is the book I’d hand to a (straight, cis) man to read as an entrance to the genre; it might be easy for them to interpret it as a little on the nose. However, most great escapist literature is on the nose at times, as real world subtext and conversations don’t sink in the way in the same way as a good book. It might be too meta for them to handle straight out of the gate, but it does pose the question — of books written by women for women (primarily), is there one out there that speaks to a wider audience? Should there need to be one? Maybe, just let us have this without needing to make space for your opinion here.
If you run a book club, this will make an excellent romance genre contender, as it does foster asking bigger questions like this for people to talk about — especially men. I don’t want to say we are in some kind of a romance renaissance, but it’s certainly become more commonplace to discuss reading and enjoying romance novels in my life. Maybe that comes with age (and hopefully less fucks to give), but seeing healthy relationships and repair/maintenance of those loves doesn’t have to be relegated to drama; romance isn’t all about heat and passion…though yes, I love that stuff too. This is really why I enjoyed The Bromance Book Club, because it shows how the hard work of a relationship doesn’t have to spell the end, but the work is still necessary to thrive together.
The Little Book Witch 