the ask@AAR: Do You Read Across the Aisle?
A love story is rarely just about desire. Often, it is also about power—who holds it, who is denied it, and what it takes for two people to meet as equals. Some romances bring that struggle to the surface, making politics part of the story rather than background noise. Perhaps, in this time of siloed and adamant perspectives, there’s a case to be made that picking up a novel about characters we assume we’ll dislike—because of their beliefs, their status, or their politics—might open us to empathy. And maybe, just maybe, that practice on the page makes it easier to connect, even a little, with those we find unlikable off the page.
One could argue Evie Dunmore has built an entire series on that premise. In Bringing Down the Duke, Annabelle is a suffragette, Sebastian a duke invested in keeping things just as they are. Their romance works not because the politics disappear but because each learns to see the other without caricature. Alyssa Cole’s An Extraordinary Union goes further: Elle, a free Black woman spying for the Union, falls for Malcolm, a white agent masquerading among Confederates. The tension between them is inseparable from the politics of the war, and makes the reader live her leads’ differences.
Other novels do this around issues that resonate today. In Sarah MacLean’s Knockout, Imogen’s radical reforms—and her willingness to blow sh*t up to pursue them—bring her up against Detective Peck, who believes in law and order. Neither is wrong, neither is wholly right, and the romance thrives in the uneasy space between their truths. In Abby Jimenez’s Part of Your World, the divide is clear: Alexis is an urban doctor from a legacy family, Daniel, a carpenter rooted in his rural town. Their conflict is the shorthand of our own red-and-blue America, softened only when each sees the other as more than a stereotype. And in the classic Kleypas Smooth Talking Stranger, we have Ella, a liberal, vegan, intellectual heroine falling for Jack Travis, a wealthy conservative businessman. Their sparring over guns, parenting, and privilege makes their very different values almost impossible to ignore.
These novels don’t suggest that politics vanish once love takes hold. What they show, instead, is that political (and social, racial, and economic) differences don’t inherently cancel intimacy. In these love stories, two people can disagree deeply and still find their HEA.
So here’s the ask: do you turn to romances where politics sharpen the conflict, or do you prefer the reassurance of love stories that affirm the values you already hold? And if you enjoy the first kind, which political opposites-attract romances have stayed with you?
I’m going to close the comments for this. Thanks to all who weighed in.
Strange Bedpersons, by Jennifer Crusie. From the blurb: “Tess Newhart knows her ex-boyfriend Nick Jamieson isn’t the right guy for her. He’s caviar and champagne; she’s take-out Chinese pot stickers. He’s an uptight Republican lawyer; she was raised in a commune. He wants to get ahead in business; she just wants…him. But there’s no way Tess will play second fiddle to his job.”
And yet, she does the “fake relationship” thing with him to help him land a client. Hijinks ensue.
This was my first Crusie.
I was just reflecting recently on the fact that all the contemporary romances I read lately are set in blue states (Oregon, Minnesota, Colorado) and I can’t remember when I’ve read anything set in a red state. But I guess that’s because my favourite authors write about queer or diverse characters, and maybe it’s hard to imagine them happy in Idaho or Texas these days. I suppose there must be a whole parallel romance universe where the books are all inspies set in small town America but I have no desire to visit those values in fiction right now. And I’m half a world away from the US.
On a happier note, the best political differences novel I’ve ever read is KJ Charles’ A Seditious Affair, in which Silas the radical bookseller and Dominic the conservative government official debate and find some common ground even while they know they’ll never convert each other. The meeting of minds is a glorious as the meeting of hearts.
I don’t think that kind of story can be written as an American contemporary anymore.
…the best political differences novel I’ve ever read is KJ Charles’ A Seditious Affair, in which Silas the radical bookseller and Dominic the conservative government official debate and find some common ground even while they know they’ll never convert each other. The meeting of minds is a glorious as the meeting of hearts.
Agreed.
I enjoy class, caste, religious and political conflict as a plot point in general. And I enjoy books that have underlying politics or beliefs that I strongly disagree with. To me, the story can transcend the author’s POV and agenda, as long as they let it.
One of the best I’ve read recently was Impossible Saints by Clarissa Harwood. She’s a sufragette and he’s a vicar. My Dearest Enemy is also about the disconnect in his and her beliefs about marriage.
I also really enjoyed Cecilia Rabess’s “Everything’s Fine,” which was directly about political conflict between a Trump supporter and a Black, liberal woman. I found it to be incredibly well written. Though I would argue it’s really more fiction than true romance. The “happily ever after” at the end really isn’t happy, it fills you with a quiet dread. That said, I read it during the Biden administration. The stakes felt lower.
But I don’t think I could get through that same story in 2025.
Maybe a political conflict in a foreign country I know little about. But here? No way.
Most historical romances that have political division between the characters either have the setting so distant that the reader is committed to neither side (Cavaliers and Round Heads, for example) or the romance avoids real political division, for example, in the Civil War. I can’t think of one romance where one side was racist (pro-slavery, for example, with its inherent belief in the inferiority of black people) or had serious issues that commonly divide families and countries. We don’t have romances with serious religious issues because America’s population’s declining identification with one religion or another. I can’t imagine, for example, a romance, set today, between a Palestinian and an Israeli.
I read romances for lots of reasons, but see them as adult fairy tales (and I’ve always loved fairy tales). Saying that is no insult to such romances–most of our movies and TV programs are fairy tales.
i was in a bookstore today which had a table of banned books. Most were in the US, but there was a book about a romance between an Israeli woman and Palestinian man, “All the Rivers”, which had been banned in Israel. It is a somewhat older book; I don’t think it could be written today.
In the same way, a romance between a Hindu and a Muslim would not happen in fiction as well as in real life. In real life, their lives would be seriously threatened and if somebody wrote a romance pairing a Hindu and Muslim, the author’s life would be threatened and the book would never see the light of day. That is the reality in India today. The same applies to caste based romances too. Some divisions are too bitter to be overcome with romance and love.
I’ve been friends with people from different political perspectives my entire life, including members of my own family. Our country has change so much in the last 8 months to make it impossible for me to stay in communication with some people. When someones beliefs depends on the repression of others, I’m not interested in listening to them. Two people I’ve been close to for years openly assert that my LGBTQ children should not have the same rights as their children in things like not being discriminated against for jobs or housing, or marriage rights. Their lives are centered around their very conservative churches and we have absolutely nothing in common anymore. I won’t apologize for prioitizing my time and emotional energy on things and people that are positive and healing.
I also spend at least three days a week volunteering at an equine therapy center that serves disabled children and adults. I lead for lessons, train horses, do chores, and work events like retreats for children who have lost a sibling, or suffer from type 2 diabetes. I have an Equine Specialist certification and work with a therapist during Equine Partnered Play Therapy as the horse “expert.” In these capacities I work with and serve people from all backgrounds and political spectrums. I’m fully capable of loving and serving all kinds people. I just choose whom I want to sit down and talk politics with.
I do not seek out books with political themes. I read fiction to be entertained and at times to escape. If I want to read about a difficult subject or to learn more about what’s going on politically, I’ll read a nonfiction book or reliable news source.
Oh, my goodness! How do you even breathe, with such a busy, useful and admirable schedule! When you die, I want to grab onto your skirt and sneak into heaven with you.
I’m no saint! But thanks. I love what I do. Selfishly, the time I spend with the horses is therapy for me, as well. When I’m at the therapy center I am like the horses, completely in the present moment, and that lets my overactive nervous system get a real rest. I’ve seen some amazing things while working with these horses. The way they interact with the riders or therapy clients, their intuitiveness, the way they are drawn to people, standing close, nuzzling. It brings all the staff and volunteers to tears sometimes. Horses have slower respirations and heart rates, so being within 3-4 ft of a horse can lower your heart and breathing rate, and calm you. Our bodies try to match their rate (We do that with people to, which is why long hugs, 30 sec or more, are so theraputic and calming.)
This work also keeps me in better shape. I walk for miles at the barn some days, and I have to carry water buckets, lift saddles, move bales of hay, groom horses, etc. I’m no good at making myself exercise regularly, so this is how I keep fit! :-)
(Different sides)enemies-to-lovers is my favourite trope Aral and Cordelia, Annique and Grey, Mara and Kevin (ten points for anyone who knows of that one).
I am STRONGLY heroine centric and the Duke of Montgomery in that book with the lying bastard of a cover, Bringing Down the Duke (NOT a light romp), or as I call him, “the man on whose shoulders the British Empire comfortably rests” is one of the few memorable heroes in the romance books I have read, ready willing and able to prioritise love when the possibility occurs despite his vast responsibilities.
I chuckled at “that book with the lying bastard of a cover”
I might have done so in the past but couldn’t now. Jax Calder – an NZ author whose work I normally like – recently published a romance where the leads were MPs – one Labour, one Conservative. After 14 years of ‘government’ by a group of dishonourable scumbag conmen the like of which has never been seen before (in the UK), the idea of a Tory MP as a love interest turned my stomach.
I really liked that book (The Unlikely Pair)! I suspect part of this is that I’m American so I’m not immersed in UK politics and part is that I am willing to let things slide when reading fiction. But that’s just me!
I hear you. I guess, though, it’s my hope that all romance readers, including Tories, are seen as worthy of love. This is a site where people of all political persuasions come and it’s important that they all feel accepted. I get that you don’t want to read love stories whose leads are creating governance you think is flat out wrong. That’s different to me, though, than saying “I’d never read a romance featuring leads whose beliefs were different than mine.”
I can’t read a (contemp) romance where one partner holds beliefs associated with the RW. I just can’t see someone who aligns themself with people who espouse cruelty towards people who are not white, straight, able-bodied, housed etc. as a love interest I can like and believe in. And if I can’t do that, the romance is dead in the water.
Again, I think the dismissal of a huge swath of humanity is problematic. I’d also argue that each side believes the other holds far more extreme views than they do. This is called affective polarization and creates a world where we believe our fellow citizens aren’t just wrong but evil. Democracy, however, is founded on the faith that we can find ways to compromise on the vast majority of issues. I believe passionately in democracy and in listening–these are the values, I hope, that undergird AAR and make all who come here feel accepted.
Thank you, Dabney, for saying this. I find bringing dismissive political views of any persuasion to AAR is off-putting, hostile and even sometimes hurtful. This is a site to discuss romantic fiction and not politics – or so I have believed since I first discovered it in 1999. If anyone feels that it is needful to discuss politics then perhaps this should be directed to the Agora. This site caters for readers from round the world and not everyone who comes here has knowledge of the politics of countries in which they do not live so that means that venting by someone in Country A may mean nothing to someone from Country B though they are bound to pick up on overt hostility and wonder why it has seeped into this site.
Well, I’d like to think that, within the context of reading romance, we can discuss politics. It’s hard for me to understand why we can’t disagree with ideas and still accept and be kind to those whose are different than our own.
I continue to hope there are ways we can discuss our own beliefs without being hurtful to others. That’s the dream for me.
To be fair to Dabney (which I can be, gasp), this is clearly marked and advertised as a political thread.
I wasn’t being dismissive, I was saying that I, personally, can’t feel empathy towards a character who supports a political party that hates minorities.
Again, I do not believe that all in the UK who vote Tory hate minorities and actively work to demonise them. Nor do I believe that all who, in my nation, vote Republican do so because they are evil.
There is a very real difference between saying “I hate these policies.” and “I hate these people.” Here at AAR, we have readers from both sides of aisle and all need to feel welcome here.
Since I rarely read contemporary romance and most of my reading is historical (romance or mystery), the politics is at something of a remove and it is easier to look at dispassionately. I’ve read some of the historical romance books you mentioned and the politics were just part of what made those stories interesting. The political situation in the U.S. today is just one more reason to avoid reading contemporary romance. I’m of the opinion that politics (whichever way the political wind blows) is 98% BS and do not want to drown myself in that cesspool. Maybe in another 30 or more years, I would be able to read a romance set in the current time period and enjoy the conflict between two people on opposite sides of the political spectrum. There are real life marriages, for example, James Carville and Mary Matalin, that show that being on opposite political sides is not a barrier to a strong and long lasting romance. So there is hope.
I find the distaste for people who don’t share your specific politics to be personally depressing. I have friends on both sides of the aisle and have never ended a relationship because someone’s beliefs aren’t mine. In fact, in my many discussions with others about politics, I’ve had my mind changed about some issues and I’ve changed others’ minds.
All anger and disdain does is make people less likely to work together. In a democracy, we have to work together. That doesn’t mean you can’t be critical of the leaders you disagree with. That’s your right. But I believe it bodes poorly for my children’s future if everyone believes there’s no point in even listening to the other side.
I like that meme I’ve seen about the right wing and the left wing being part of the same bird. There is so much demonizing going on (from both sides) that people are forgetting that there are decent people on all sides of the political aisles. Unfortunately, there are a lot of loud mouthed clowns too.
I worry about false equivalences but I do think that whether you’re on the right or the left, if your impulse is to say the other side is evil and you’d like to see them permanently silenced, you are not making the world a better place.
Meet You in the Middle by Devon Daniels is an opposites attract story between Republican and Democratic staffers in Washington with fun banter. Untie My Heart by Judith Ivory has Emma, a sheep farmer and Stuart, a young lord who cross paths when his carriage accidentally runs over one of her sheep. The Last Hellion by Loretta Chase has Lydia , a newspaper journalist and Ainswood, a Duke, who collide when she is trying to prevent an abduction of a young woman.
I think Emma Barry might have had something similar, about Washington politicos. But I can’t remember if they were on opposite sides of the aisle.
Yes! It was called Party Lines, but now it’s been revised and retitled as The One You Hate. Barry writes on that page: “To me, politics are a metaphor for differences in the personality and experience of the characters. The books aren’t liberal or conservative; they reflect my own weird mix of cynicism and idealism and are about, at some level, the political development of my fellow Millennials.”
I enjoyed Meet You in the Middle too!
I had to re-read your post a few times, Dabney, and take time to think it over and to reflect on my own reading tastes. It’s a provocative subject and, in view of the current emotion and conflict in the US, it’s not exactly going to resonate quite so well outside of the US (I am in the UK). So excuse the length of my response but this is one the best Asks in quite a while. It really made me think.
I did my degrees in History and Politics, a milieu with which I am familiar. And my reading tastes do lean towards HR. My conclusion with respect to your final question is that for romance (not all of my reading), I prefer re-affirming values stories to those with significant conflict of values, morals, politics, power, religion, etc. This certainly applies to CR for me. Perhaps it’s because the stories referred in your essay to tend to be (not always) set in the USA, not, say, Pakistan or Saudi Arabia or Spain or Poland or Canada, etc. I can see where religious differences can work well in stories set in countries where that sort of conflict is part of that society’s history – for example India where there is a history of conflict between Hindus and Muslims. But such a story would have to be written by someone who either has done really serious research or who lives with these issues in their daily life and understands them.
In HR, political or other differences can work far better and this, I think, is because with the benefit of hindsight or knowledge of the historical past from the perspective of research or study, we do know the outcome and though there may be interpretive differences, generally, the past is a known thing and so we go into HR with fore-knowledge and the fight, generally, is over and we can read about how the resolution was worked out with reasonable certainty and, hence, comfort.
I read widely in history and politics – past and present – but prefer in my romantic fiction reading that they are mainly in the past, e.g. HR. We know the outcome, there is no difficult conflict to perhaps deflect from real enjoyment of the story. But in CR, when there is conflict, not every reader will relish this in their reading. I don’t want to dwell on the Charlie Kirk tragedy but personally this seems to me to represent unresolved political, moral, religious conflict where differences can make such a vast, uncrossable void that reasonable people lose perspective, stop talking to each other and become monstrous.
So, in answer to your question, once more, I would rather my romance reading has resolved or easily resolved conflict and I prefer it to stay in the knowable past. Otherwise, a CR writer is, to a degree, speculating on resolution and making it fit into their own values which readers may or may not share.
It’s interesting–I think most romance has conflict in it. So, maybe what you’re saying is that this is a specific kind of conflict that doesn’t appeal to you. And I get that.
You are right. Conflict and angst are fine and I like that but not when it comes down to politics and serious moral values where one MC will have to make what amounts to a supreme sacrifice in order to make a relationship work. Someone will then lose their sense of identity. Not for me. Differences of opinion can be part of a good relationship when both parties have the goodness of heart to deal with them in a kind and open way. Mature people agree to disagree and move on. Otherwise, I sense doom and gloom down the line.
To me, this is an aspirational sentiment, but I question how common it really is in today’s publishing landscape. I haven’t read most of the specific books you mention, but a formula I often see is: A is very progressive/radical, B is more moderate/conservative, but in the end B comes around to A’s point of view. So B doesn’t get to *keep* being more moderate/conservative; he/she has to accept A’s politics to be worthy of love. It’s a dynamic I find frustrating, so I tend to avoid romances where politics (whether historical or contemporary) is central to the story.
I feel like this is a new thing–in many older romances both people had to compromise. In fact, that was often posited as what love means. I dislike romances where one person gives up everything or completely changes for the other person. This may be why many modern romances aren’t working for me.
Except in My Dearest Enemy. She’s against marriage because it removes a woman’s rights to her children in Victorian England. But she still gets married and has a kid (several) with the protagonist.
I know of several historical romances with that plot.