Reality bites - that's one of the reasons we need fiction

Reading a more-than-usual trashy Regency Romance and watching "Consuming Passion" - a drama about the founding the publishing company Mills and Boon and how its output affects the lives of two women, in the seventies and the noughties respectively - reminded me about the debate that raged this summer about the potential harmfulness of romantic fiction. Some responsible body or other had primly pointed out that the couples in Mills and Boon novels rarely use condoms, and their passion-ridden romances gave the reader the notion that there is no need to "work at" a relationship. This led to 1) unwanted pregnancies 2) women giving up on relationships far too early. Fiction - that is popular, wish-fulfilment fiction - is bad for you.

Yes, really. Again. This kind of argument has gone on at least since "Don Quijote", and I don't believe the wake-up-and-smell-the-coffee-lobby has gained an inch of ground in all that time. Some readers and writers rise to the bait - as they did this time - and defend the novels under attack with a great deal of indignation. Others just ignore the furore and get along with reading exactly what they like, not caring what anyone thinks. And so wish-fulfilment fiction survives quite comfortably.

It's interesting that it is mostly "trashy" fiction that is targeted whenever the "books aren't like real life" debate gets going. It's not as if classic quality fiction is always that big on hard-headed reality. If anyone's fiction has given me unrealistic expectations of life, it's that of Dickens rather than Regency Romance authors (whose heroes I can do without - honestly, what's with the growling?). Which brings me to one of the reasons for the defensive stance of those (like me) who get upset every time someone trots out the old "fiction is bad for you because it distorts your view on reality" line. It's because, in a way, it's perfectly true. I have yet to meet a Dickensian lawyer, but to say I'd given up hope of ever encountering one would be telling a lie. Of course I'm not going to be pleased when someone says: "You're never ever going to meet the kind of man you think you fancy because he only exists in books. In fact, nice but boring chaps are the real princes, so stop being such a goose and grab one, if you can."

Feeling stung is not the only reason to resist the killjoys, though. I believe that they have honestly mixed up cause and effect. Wish-fulfilment wouldn't stop if all fiction except the most dreary were banned. Whoppingly high expectations are part of life in any case. People buy lottery tickets although they are unlikely to win; they book seaside holidays although it's unlikely to be warm and sunny; they send their manuscripts to publishers although they're unlikely to be read; they embark on a career of acting although they're unlikely to make any money worth speaking of, let alone make Hollywood or the Royal Shakespeare Company. Fiction may encourage rose-tinted daydreams, and make them feel more real, but it is not the root cause of them. Human nature is.

And isn't this just as well? One question the critics of wish-fulfilment fantasies don't seem to have thought much about is: and the alternative would be...? "Consuming passion" was nicely even-handed about the effect of high-blown romance on everyday life. In one plot strand, we see how a poor woman makes a fool of herself because she can't separate her fantasies about a dishy but, as it turns out, thoroughly boorish doctor from the real thing. She does become a succesful author for Mills and Boon, though. In another plot strand, a sophicticated Eng.Lit. lecturer giving a course at a university initially resists her attraction for one of her students because it too Mills-and-Boony for words - only to give in eventually because, what the heck, this is what she wants, Mills-and-Boony or not. The scenes between the Eng.Lit. lecturer and her toxically boring partner were almost scary. Whether her romance with the student had a future or not, surely she was right to ditch this plonker? If getting carried away by your dreams can be a recipe for unhappiness, I'd say "making do" with something or someone you don't really want is even more so.