The Trouble With The Ton: Anthony's Version

My feelings about the Bridgerton universe are a perfect example of how I feel about the romance genre in general, and what has driven me to start this blog. I feel very conflicted about this topic, and I hope to make you feel conflicted too, through my work at Pure Honey.

First, the joyous celebration. Women flock to voice their excitement about Bridgerton online. They talk to their friends about it, their families. They publicly acknowledge their lust, and while not unwelcoming, it is not a space for men, particularly straight men.

I’m not interested in writing about the show here, but I want the reader to know that I’ve watched all seasons that are available (which will stay true long after this post is published.) What I’m really focusing on here is books. I have read every Bridgerton book, in its complete entirety, multiple times.

I say this because I want the reader to know that I am not here to dunk on romance. I am here to, if anything, flesh out my feelings in a public space. I think there is a real disconnect between most non-fiction writings and the way humans actually work. Both in the academic sphere and in the public (internet comments) we act as though every feeling or thought we have is uncomplicated, and we are one hundred percent sure that it is true. I have no such misconceptions; I am not solid in my beliefs. They are wishy-washy at best, and they are still valid.

Before I dive into the analysis, let me share one more thing I will not be doing: I will not be critiquing the literary worth of books. If there is such a thing as a “bad” book I am not qualified to label it. Instead, I will be focusing on in what ways a book positively or negatively handles complex or heavy topics.

I do not have the space here to write-up every single Bridgerton book, so here is an analysis of just one: The Viscount Who Loved Me.

For anyone living under a rock, the Bridgerton books follow the seven Bridgerton siblings as they fall in love (and get married) in regency England. The Viscount Who Loved Me was released in 2000. It follows the eldest Bridgerton sibling, Anthony, as he falls in love with Kate.

I have stacked the decks against the Bridgerton series by picking this book first, but it really only makes explicit the underlying issues present throughout the series. For one thing, Anthony doesn’t seem to like Kate very much. Yes, it’s an enemies to lovers storyline, but those only work when both characters are on equal footing. Anthony often thinks to himself that Kate is not as pretty as her sister Edwina. Even when they are betrothed and kissing, his inner monologue is as follows:

“...in that moment he would have sworn that Kate Sheffield was every bit as beautiful as her sister.”

Oh, how romantic. Catch me while I swoon.

Anthony is also extremely cruel at times. About 100 pages into the story, Kate sneaks into his study after he slips away with his mistress. (Anthony is trying to marry her sister, and Kate has some concerns with him sleeping with another woman.) He seduces Kate, kissing her. She is a lady, and when he says it’s fine that he kissed her, and he won’t be marrying her, she questions his honor. He grabs her by the chin, hurting her. Kate asks him to let her go, and he does.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he added softly.

“Didn’t you?”

He gave his head a small shake. “No. To scare you, perhaps. But not to hurt you.”

Kate stepped back on shaky legs.

Here is, I think, my biggest issue with the book. Kate is marketed as a quick witted rival of Anthony’s, but she’s not. Throughout the course of the book she is often terrified of him and completely helpless to his charms.

I’m going to pause here for a peak behind the curtain moment. This completely outraged me. Each time I’ve gone back to the book (twice of my own accord and once for this post) I have found myself seeing red. Reading The Viscount Who Loved Me in particular, I can’t help but feel worried for the young people reading it. If romance is a place for women to explore their own sexuality, what does it mean for the romantic heroes to be somewhat abusive? In these books, Anthony and Kate’s romance ends happily ever after. But in real life, being romantically linked with a man displaying Anthony’s tendencies seems like it would end very differently.

So the real question is, does the romance people read affect the romance that they seek out? And if it doesn’t, is it feminist to provide literature for women fantasizing about angry, irrational, and sometimes cruel men, who think they aren’t as pretty as their sisters? (I’m sorry, I truly liked the other books but this one stokes a fire of rage within me. Dear reader, this author is not impartial.)

I can’t answer these big questions in this post, but I can dive further into this particular book than maybe anyone wants me too. On Kate and Anthony’s wedding night, she asks for a week to prepare herself for sleeping with him. He pushed back, leading to this exchange:

“I don’t enjoy being condescended to,” Kate said stiffly.

His eyes flashed. “And I don’t like being denied my rights,” he returned, his voice cold and his face a harsh rendition of aristocratic power.

The context of this scene is that during Kate’s discussion with her mother about the relations between a man and his wife, Kate got the impression that a man could find pleasure with any woman so long as he was picturing himself with a woman he was actually attracted to. As Kate finds herself falling in love with Anthony, she worries that as she sleeps with him he will be picturing her sister.

She confronts him with this while they are having sex and he proclaims her beauty. (He just won’t fall in love with her, because he believes he will die young like his father.) Of course, by the end of the book, he is madly in love with her and they are riotously happy.

From what I can tell, the story of this book is really one of insecurity. The ton sees Kate as unattractive. She is known as witty, but most of her remarks fall flat. Even her husband, as he is falling in love with her, can only see her as “almost as pretty” as her sister.

Kate is the opposite of a Mary Sue- she is a Jane Doe. There is nothing remarkable about her. Her big “happy ending” is that an attractive man is nice enough to think she’s just as pretty as anyone else.

Which leads me to think that this is a romance for women and girls who are insecure. If Anthony believed from the start that she was beautiful, or if she said anything truly funny, the reader would not be able to see herself in Kate. The book functions as a half-fantasy for those who even in the context of fiction can’t see themselves doing any better.

Perhaps this is a harsh reading, and you are welcome to challenge it. But even in the most generous reading, the issues of consent can’t be denied, and neither can the myriad of outright misogynistic comments Anthony makes. Perhaps my explanation as to why the book is widely enjoyed is not the right one. But there has to be some explanation, because on the merits the book’s reception does not make sense.

The book has recently had a huge spike in popularity since the release of Bridgerton on Netflix. The show is surely the reason the book is prominently placed at your local Barnes and Noble, and also the only reason I ever heard of the book to read it in the first place. What this means is that a romance published in 2000 is being compared to books released in 2024. I’ll be very interested to look at recent romances and the trend of booktok- will these books be better on the big things like consent and misogyny? We’ll see!

I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments or you could write me an email at purehoneyxoxo@gmail.com. As always, let me know which books I should review next!

Angrily and forever yours,

Pure