Down with love
November 30th 2006 03:55
Having just ranted for some time about how much I love reading and how I will read practically every genre with equal enjoyment, there is one kind of book I will never, ever, in a million years read. Love stories.
I have nothing against love, don’t get me wrong. I am all for love, I think there should be more love, it makes the world go around and all that. My problem in, every love story is the same.
The thing with love, as far as I can tell, is that it is a universal experience. I love my man – and millions of women love their man too. There are things about him that make me gush with affection – same as with every other woman and their man. I love my family – and that experience is the same as everyone else’s. I love my dog, too. Who doesn’t love their dog?
So when I am reading a story about a woman who meets a man and starts to feel things for him I’m reading a story I have read a million times before. Sure, you can change the setting, you can change the characters, but it is fundemantally the same. And I don’t want to read the same story over.
Mind you, others could argue that the same could be said about other genres too. Murder mysteries for example, which I adore, are generally the same – someone dies, someone investigates, clues are dropped, and eventually someone gets busted.
The difference is, I would argue, that it is only the structure that is the same. And I don’t have a problem with structure. Within a structure you can have many and varied emotions, characters and even plots. Books can have the same structure but be as different as a book can be.
But not love stories. I know millions of women around the globe would disagree, but until someone enlightens me, I will remain down with love.
I have nothing against love, don’t get me wrong. I am all for love, I think there should be more love, it makes the world go around and all that. My problem in, every love story is the same.
The thing with love, as far as I can tell, is that it is a universal experience. I love my man – and millions of women love their man too. There are things about him that make me gush with affection – same as with every other woman and their man. I love my family – and that experience is the same as everyone else’s. I love my dog, too. Who doesn’t love their dog?
So when I am reading a story about a woman who meets a man and starts to feel things for him I’m reading a story I have read a million times before. Sure, you can change the setting, you can change the characters, but it is fundemantally the same. And I don’t want to read the same story over.
Mind you, others could argue that the same could be said about other genres too. Murder mysteries for example, which I adore, are generally the same – someone dies, someone investigates, clues are dropped, and eventually someone gets busted.
The difference is, I would argue, that it is only the structure that is the same. And I don’t have a problem with structure. Within a structure you can have many and varied emotions, characters and even plots. Books can have the same structure but be as different as a book can be.
But not love stories. I know millions of women around the globe would disagree, but until someone enlightens me, I will remain down with love.
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