February 4, 2008
Friends & Lovers
Posted by Tracy Grant under Baroness Orczy, Beneath a Silent Moon, Dorothy Sayers, Harriet Vane, Laurie King, Marguerite St. Just, Mary Russell, Mulder & Scully, Mélanie and Charles Fraser, Percy Blakeney, Peter Wimsey, Scarlet Pimpernel, Secrets of a Lady, Sherlock Holmes, The X-Files, Tracy GrantLast week’s discussion about friendship in novels segued into a discussion of romantic relationships rooted in friendship. Perla said, “As for my favorite friendship, it’s between Claire and Jamie from Outlander. I love the friendship they shared at the beginning of their amazing love story.” Cate brought up Anne and Gilbert in the Anne of Avonlea books and television series. Dorthe and Sarah talked about how Percy and Marguerite’s relationship evolves from Percy worshipping Margot on a pedestal and Margot feeling an almost desperate, possessive love for Percy to, as Dorthe said, “an understanding where she accepts his choices and he accepts the pain he causes her. In a way that kind of love is the most beautiful kind of friendship, I think, because it honours the freedom and the separateness of the two people involved although it also recognizes the deep bond.”
That wonderful description made me think of Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane, who spend four books struggling to find this balance. Toward the end of Gaudy Night, when Harriet is still struggling to trust enough to accept Peter, they go to a concert together at Oxford. Harriet says “…what did you mena whne you said than anybody could have the harmony if they would leave us the counterpoint?” After a metaphorical exchange about polyphonic music, Peter says, “I admit that Bach isn’t a matter of an autocratic virtuoso and a meek accompanist. But do you want to be either?”
In Busman’s Honeymoon, Peter and Harriet are still finding the balance between what it means to be married and still be individuals (leading to a wonderful ending scene which was the inspiration for the ending scene in Beneath a Silent Moon). Laurie King explores these same themes in her Mary Russell series (King talked about Sayers as an influence on her work and both Sayers and King are definitely influences on me as a writer). One of the joys of The Beekeeper’s Apprentice is the way it captures the wonder of finding a friend and soul mate. I love the watching the marriage between the protagonists develop as the series progresses (while they cope with the reality of two very independent individuals who has chosen to share their lives). While they were dealing with a number of difficult issues in Locked Rooms, the latest entry in the series, I thought their marriage seemed more “settled” somehow. Holmes frequently referred to Russell as “my wife” whereas in The Moor he could barely acknowledge having a wife.
In my favorite love stories, the romance is rooted in friendship. (I thought it was very telling in the last season of Sex & the City when Alexander told Carries “you’re not friend, you’re my lover.” The image of Carrie and Big laughing together on the floor of hotel corridor–just after she’s tripped him up–showed they were definitely friends). Which brings me to one of my favorite pairs friends turned lovers–Mulder & Scully.
I discovered The X-Files fairly late. I went on several trips with a friend who liked the show. We’d watch syndicated reruns in our hotel room (a couple of times pushing back dinner reservations to finish the episodes). I saw the episodes wildly out of order, but pretty soon I was hooked and was watching the show love (mid-season six) as well as catching up on reruns. I’ve never particularly liked paranormal stories, but I was fascinated by the complicated, unraveling conspiracy. And I loved the relationship between Scully and Mulder. The complicated layers, the deepening bond, the slowly (maddeningly slow at times 
developing romance that was all the more powerful for being expressed in subtext. The developing relationship between investigative partners and the unraveling conspiracy are themes I love to write about myself. The X-Files is another big influence on my writing (I’ll confess that in my mind Charles bears a more than passing resemblance to David Duchovny).
Do you like love stories ground in friendship? Why or why not? Any thoughts on the examples above or suggestions of other examples? By the way both Secrets of a Lady and Beneath a Silent Moon contain a few X-Files references/in jokes (what are sometimes called Easter Eggs). Bonus points if anyone can spot them!
This week’s addition to the Fraser Correspondence is a letter Mélanie writes to Raoul when she first visits England (she’s just been to a fête at Carlton House in honor of Wellingon). Mélanie and Raoul have a complicated relationship to say the least, but in their own way they are also friends and lovers.
February 4, 2008 at 9:49 am
Great topic! I have added Sayers’ books to my ever-increasing To Read list - her style and characters sound a lot like the Rex Stout ‘Nero Wolfe’ series I also adore. In fact, one of the detectives in Stout’s books, Archie Goodwin, has a ‘permanent other’ who is very much a ‘modern woman’ of the pre-war years like Harriet (Stout started writing in the 1930s, only his characters never aged in ‘real time’
- Lily and Archie are both too independent to marry, preferring to enjoy each other’s company when it suits them but maintaining their own lifestyles. With Stout, it’s very much a device, as Archie has to remain single and living as Wolfe’s assistant for the books to go on, but he also presents a friendship that is strong without becoming possessive. In some ways, I wish they could have made that commitment, but in others, I respect Lily as an individual and a perfect match for Archie’s temperament; it’s like the archetypal example, ‘Moonlighting’, where the two sparring business partners finally resolved the sexual tension - and that was the end of the series!
February 4, 2008 at 5:54 pm
My mom loved the Nero Wolfe books, Sarah, but for some reason I never read them myself. Sounds like they should go in my TBR. Dealing with whether or not characters age in “real time” is one of the challenges of writing a contemporary series I think (one of the reasons I like writing historicals :-). Elizabeth George also writes her books in the pres
The “Moonlighting” example is interesting. Resolving the sexual tension can hurt the dynamic of a series. On the other hand, maintaining the status quo can make a series seem stagnant. I actually thought The X-Files did a brilliant job of advancing Mulder and Scully’s relationshp subtly and believably (though I had major issues with the last season). They didn’t fall into each others arms quickly (quite the reverse) but neither did their relationship stay the same. And I loved the way the Joyce/Frank relationship developed in “Hill Street Blues” from secret lovers to a comfortable married couple (who still had to work out the occasional issue).
February 4, 2008 at 7:10 pm
I gave up on the X-Files long before any hint of a romance, though I was obsessed with it in the early days! Mulder and Scully definitely established a firm foundation for something more than a friendship, however, and I would agree that there was only one natural conclusion for the duo.
I find I am influenced by the strength of the two characters in a budding relationship, as to whether or not I support a romantic development or find it a hindrance to the story/series. If an established character is introduced to a secondary or ‘flat’ figure, I tend to feel defensive of the status quo, and resent what can feel like a ‘forced’ pairing; however, if, like Mulder and Scully, the two leads are strong personalities in their own right, and the progression from one stage to another is natural and active, then I’m eager for them to get together! I hate when I can spot the potential ‘Love Interest’ from a mile off, and the author intends that I care about this interloper!
February 4, 2008 at 7:23 pm
That’s a great way of putting it, Sarah. I don’t like romances in general (whether or not one of the pair has been part of an ongoing series) when both characters aren’t interesting, vibrant characters on their own (that actually goes to Dorote’s original comment about the balance between being autonomous individuals and being part of a couple).
February 5, 2008 at 4:23 am
Like any other story, “friends into lovers” can be great or terrible, depending upon how the author approaches it. Sometimes it seems to be used to “squash” the hero/heroine’s ambitions and plans for new experiences; keeping him/her down on the farm, small town, ranch, etc with the “childhood sweetheart”.
As for TV series… Why even watch, when you know the two lovebirds are not going to get together until the *very last* episode? (If it happens at all)
How many “almost kisses” can we watch? How many soulful looks?
How many aborted weddings (to the Wrong Man/Woman) do we have to watch? What’s worse is that I often *liked* the Other Man/Woman more than the heroine/hero… at least they weren’t pining silently. And here is hero/heroine breaking this nice person’s heart - and still not going for it with their one true love!
February 5, 2008 at 4:41 am
That’s why I liked “Hill Street Blues,” JMM. Because Joyce and Frank are having a secret affair when the show starts, but then their relationship becomes public knowledge, then they get married (sort of in the middle of the show’s seven seasons). Their marriage had some rocky patches (they separated at one point), but it continued to evolve. I hate it when the character seem stuck at a certain phase in their relationship because of the needs of the tv show. I wish they would realize there are still plenty of issues to explore after the characters get together. It doesn’t have to be boring.
February 5, 2008 at 8:45 am
Oh, I hate when the stable, dependable ‘fallback’ partner is hurt because their intended loves somebody else (usually somebody ‘dangerous’
- I always feel sorry for the ’safe’ option, who has picked up the pieces in the past and really loves/cares for their rebound romance now, but who will lose out in the end. For instance, I’m in the Victor camp when it comes to ‘Casablanca’, and not just because I’ve never been keen on Humphrey Bogart - Ilsa needs him, and their marriage is a real, substantial kind of love, not a nostalgic longing for the past.
Tracy - if you would like to dip into Rex Stout, I recommend ‘Some Buried Caesar’, which is also the first book in which Archie meets Lily (to compare with Peter and Harriet in ‘Strong Poison’!)
February 5, 2008 at 5:04 pm
I like Victor, too, Sarah. And I like Rick and Ilsa and feel for all of them, which is why I find the movie so powerful and such a heart tug. (I remember when I was quite young and first watched “Casablanca” with my parents asking my mom if it had a happy ending, and she said “it depends on which guy you like.”
Even Rick recognizes that Ilsa and Victor’a marriage is real and substantial. I love the scene where Victor tells Rick “I happen to be in love with the same woman”, and it’s pretty clear his emotions run stronger than he generally allows to show.
Thanks for the tip on where to start with the Nero Wolfe books!
February 5, 2008 at 7:16 pm
‘Casablanca’ is actually one example of a love triangle that I can understand and even support - I’m usually on the side of the ‘established’ couple, and consider the extra component a villain! - and it’s because, as I mentioned before, Rick, Ilsa and Victor are all intriguing and strong characters in their own right; nobody is defined by the relationship (either relationship), and all are sympathetic figures. But I do tend to plump for Victor (he’s a little like Sir Percy, in that duty comes first but he still loves and needs his wife)
February 5, 2008 at 11:30 pm
I like interesting triangles and which hero/heroine–I’ll sometimes root for the established couple, sometimes for the other person depending on the characters involved. Your comment made me realize there’s actually something in common between “Casablanca” and TSP–not the books, but the adaptations with the love triangle. Hero with a cause who loves his wife but puts duty first, wife who may not realize how much he loves her, former lover who is morally ambiguous. Interesting how differently a similar set up can play out and how who you root for can potentially change :-).
February 6, 2008 at 5:03 am
Well, Rick is very different from love-triange Chauvelin!
As for Friends and Lovers; IMHO, it depends entirely upon the type of friendship.
Look at Honoria and Charles. It could be said that they are “friends” of a sort - they grew up together, in the same household. They shared the same experiences as children. Would they be good together?
No. But everyone in Charles’ world believes they’re a match made in heaven - “So much in common!”
February 6, 2008 at 6:41 am
Rick indeed *very* different from any interpretation of Chauvelin! That’s what I was was getting at–who I root for in a love triangle has more to do with the specific characters than with the role they play in the triangle (established spouse, ex-lover, etc…). Not that I precisely root for Rick to end up with Ilsa, but a part of me wishes they would, whereas no part of me wants Marguerite to run off with Chauvelin in any interpretation. And I can imagine a story in which I’d want a heroine to leave her stable husband for her former lover (I’m trying to think of such a story; the closest I can come is wanting Tracy Lord to leave her all-too stable fiancé George Kittredge for her ex-husband C.K. Dexter Haven in “The Philadelphia Story”).
And in some ways Honoria could be called the safer, “established” option for Charles in contrast to the more dangerous (far more dangerous than most people realize actually) Mélanie. They are friends, they did share the same experiences. But they really aren’t alike at all, and they don’t really understand each other or think in the same way. Charles and Mélanie are much more real friends. Their minds click, they accept each other, they respect each other as individuals. They’re actually much more friends. Which is what I was trying to get at with the “friends and lovers” topic. It doesn’t necessarily have to mean childhood friends or even characters who are friends before they fall in love. Peter Wimsey proposes to Harriet Vane at their first meeting. Harriet is far too armored against Peter to properly be called a friend for some time. But somewhere along the way to falling in love they also become friends.
February 6, 2008 at 11:15 am
‘The Philadelphia Story’ - or ‘High Society’, as I prefer - is a good example, although is it more of a quadrangle (Tracy - Dexter - George - Mike)? George doesn’t even figure - Tracy only needed to sort herself out before she could love Dexter again. Although … I wasn’t wholly against the fling with Mike, either!
I think I’m starting to understand what you meant by ‘friends’, now!
February 6, 2008 at 1:43 pm
Me, too. I guess I’ve been reading too many books in which the “childhood sweethearts” theme has been jammmed down the readers’ throats. “You MUST love the first girl/boy you ever talked to or had a crush on” - whether or not the two have anything in common any more other than shared experiences as children.
Of course, it’s related to the “you MUST give up your ambitions and move back to the small town you grew up in” to be happy theme that permeates romantic books and movies these days. (Odd how Hollywood pays high-powered actresses millions to make movies with the message that high-powered careers are bad things for women to have.)
*Slaps self* another soapbox.
As is clear in Beneath a Silent Moon, Melanie is much more of a friend to Charles in many ways. She understands him in a way that Honoria never could. Honoria seems unable or unwilling to see that Charles is not part of the… “establishment” is the only word I can think of at this time in the morning.
I have a confession to make that may shock many - I *hated* Dexter. And I hated Grant’s character in “The Front Page”, too.
February 6, 2008 at 3:31 pm
Bing Crosby was much better - I wasn’t convinced that he loved Grace’s Tracy with anything more passionate than avuncular regard, but he had great screen presence! And Grace Kelly was a better Tracy, too, in my opinion - even though the role was written for Katharine Hepburn; Kelly was that privileged, glacial goddess.
And now I’m completely off topic!
February 6, 2008 at 4:31 pm
I think I should have spent more time defining what I meant by “friends” in blog. I was really getting at that quote I mentioned from Dorthe : “an understanding where she accepts his choices and he accepts the pain he causes her. In a way that kind of love is the most beautiful kind of friendship, I think, because it honours the freedom and the separateness of the two people involved although it also recognizes the deep bond.”
(JMM, I too tend to truly dislike stories where heroines gives up high-powered careers to move to small towns :-).
“The Philadelphia Story”/”High Society” isn’t really offtopic at all, as Tracy and Dexter are childhood friends and more important for this blog, I’ve always thought Dexter understand Tracy more than the other men in her life. =It’s fascinating how people react differently to different stories and different versions. I love “The Philadelphia Story” version, I love Katharine Hepburn as Tracy and Cary Grant as Dexter. it’s been one of my favorite movies since I first saw it at the age of ten. (Though I don’t like the whole subplot with her father). Watching again now that I’m older and a writer, I can really appreciate the subtle ways you can see Dexter is in still in love with Tracy (and vice versa actually) though they never directly talk about it.
JMM, saying that Honoria couldn’t see that Charles would never be part of the “establishment” is the perfect way to put it. Mélanie on the other hand understands Charles so well that he sometimes wants to pull away from her, because it’s a little frightening ot have someone know you that well. And Charles understands Mel remarkably well, despite the many secrets still between them at that point. It was really interesting writing about that stage in their relationship.
February 6, 2008 at 6:49 pm
To return to Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane. I really enjoyed the series with Edward Petherbridge and Harriet Walter. Especially Strong Poison and Have his Carcase (not so much Gaudy Night - too much plot and too little interaction between Harriet and Peter - no chessmen, no dogcollar!). I think that the friendship/love relationship between the two was so subtly developed. In Strong Poison where you see the sparring and intellectual bond between the two (when they develop her next crime story) and the little scene where he tries to hold her hand. In Have his Carcase where they work excellently together as detectives and then, when they have tea, and they just look at each other, realizing that something different is also going on.
In this way those dramatizations of the two books showed the counterpoint theme that Tracy mentioned in connection with Gaudy Night - friends and lovers, being separate (with all the pain that they both felt) and yearning for union.
February 6, 2008 at 11:21 pm
Totally agree about the Petherbridge/Walter series, Dorthe. I loved those moments in “Strong Poison” and “Have His Carcase” too. Also the moment at the end of “Have His Carcase” where she stumbles and he catches her arm and they look at each other as though he desperately wants to kiss her. “Gaudy Night” was way too truncated as you say–I loved the actors but was so sad not see so many of the great scenes from the book (including the end, which wasn’t precisely like the book and didn’t have the Latin). I wish they’d done “Busman’s Honeymoon” too. Still, the series captured a lot of the wonderful texture of their relationship.
February 8, 2008 at 10:16 pm
Dear Tracy,
While I love stories in which lovers are the best of friends, I feel it more fascinating and challenging reading about former lovers who remain friends, as in the case of Mélanie & Raoul. Ever since I started visiting your blog, I’ve always felt ambivalent reading the correspondence between Mélanie & Raoul: on the one hand I want to know more about their connection, and the way it changed every step of the way in Mélanie’s marriage to Charles, yet at the same time I also feel I don’t want to know much more about them. It’s somewhat unsettling.
Sharon
February 9, 2008 at 7:03 am
Thanks so much for posting, Sharon! I completely agree that relationships between former lovers can make for fascinating reading, and it’s particularly interesting when the former lovers manage to remain friends and obviously still care about each other. I confess that exploring the relationship between Mélanie and Raoul in the early years is one of the things I find particularly interesting in the writing Fraser Correspondence, though it’s also challenging to get the tone right. It’s interesting that you feel ambivalent about reading it. Is that because it serves as a reminder that Mélanie had a connection to another man during the early years of her marriage? (Definitely an unsettling topic, though part of the reality of Charles & Mélanie’s story). I’d love to hear more of your thoughts on the subject!
love
February 10, 2008 at 1:43 am
It’s not so much as a reminder, as I don’t think I would ever need to be reminded that Mélanie had a connection to another man. It’s more so as proof that their connection was real and solid, not just something that could be glossed over and mentioned in passing. I could remember two other romances in which the friendships of former lovers seem more like that of friendly acquaintants than that of true friends. It doesn’t seem so with Mélanie and Raoul.
In addition, the more I read of their correspondence, the more it seems their connection would be a lasting one, perhaps weakened somewhat in time after “Secrets of a Lady,” but it would never be severed. Therefore, in a way, I feel Raoul was as much a principal in every state of the Fraser’s marriage as Mélanie and Charles were, perhaps even extending beyond the earlier years.
This strong and lasting connection between Mélanie and Raoul makes me feel that there might have been a “Mélanie & Raoul” instead of a “Mélanie & Charles”. As a reader, I absolutely love Charles in “Secrets of a Lady,” (I haven’t read “Beneath a Silent Moon”) so feeling the possibility that Raoul might emerge from my reading of the Fraser Correspondence as the tragic romantic hero who gave up love for duty/ideals is also unsettling to me.
February 10, 2008 at 2:17 am
I intensely dislike Raoul. And not because of Melanie, but because of what Raoul did.
February 10, 2008 at 2:21 am
Thanks so much for elucidating your thoughts, Sharon! You’re right, Mélanie and Raoul’s connection is a lasting one, which I don’t think will ever be completely severed. I wouldn’t call Raoul a principal in the Frasers’ marriage, but they’re definitely more than friendly acquaintances. He was too important to her, not so much romantically (though that was part of it but perhaps the easiest part to get past) but in helping shape her ideals and goals and giving her a sense of purpose at a key time in her life. He was important to Charles too, when Charles was much younger, in ways Charles is only beginning to grapple with at the end of “Secrets of a Lady.” Actually, one of the themes in “The Mask of Night” is both Mélanie and Charles coping with their ongoing ties to Raoul. (Raoul doesn’t appear in “Beneath a Silent Moon”).
There *could* have been a Mélanie & Raoul just as there could have been a Charles & Kitty. Raoul alludes to it in his scene with Mélanie near the end of “Secrets of a Lady” when he talks about considering running off to South America with her when he learned she was pregnant. In the end they all made different choices and Charles and Mélanie found each other, which I think is a very good thing :-).
I love Charles, and I’m thrilled to hear you do so as well. He and Mélanie share something special and unique, and I don’t think anything they share or might have shared with anyone else can weaken or detract from that. But life is complicated, and loving and being committed to a person doesn’t weaken all one’s ties to people from one’s past. FWIW, I have a great idea for a love story for Raoul in a later book, which I really hope I get to write…
February 10, 2008 at 2:23 am
That’s a good point, Perla. He did something distinctly questionable things–which to me as a writer makes him a fascinating character to explore :-).
February 10, 2008 at 3:45 am
I don’t suppose principal is a good choice of word at all, but I don’t know what else to call him. It seems so much of Mélanie is his creation that his presence in the Frasers’ marriage has to be felt. I don’t dislike him, but I don’t want to like him, either. He gave me the impression of the revolutionist who would sacrifice everything and everyone for his ideals, thus better avoided. That’s another reason of my ambivalence toward his correspondence with Mélanie. I’m surprised to know of your plan for him, because I wouldn’t have thought of him finding love at all. Now I’m intrigued. You must write it, please.
There are so many things about Charles that I love. One of those is the subtle reversal of gender roles. I couldn’t pin down exactly where I get it, but I have the sense that in their relationship, Charles is more the nurturing one and Mélanie is the one who takes charge. It is very special and refreshing, and yes, it is very, very good that the two of them found each other.
February 10, 2008 at 4:21 am
Raoul has definitely tended to put his cause before all else. But by “Secrets of a Lady,” he’s already beginning to have some regrets. As he tells Charles and Mélanie “I rarely play a hand the same way twice.” I originally hadn’t thought at all about giving him a love interest. But it suddenly occurred to me that a character I had been going to pair romantically with someone else would be a great match for him. You’re right that the man he was wouldn’t have been capable of finding love or of seizing it if he did find it (he did love Mélanie as Charles is quick to recognize). But the events of “Secrets of a Lady” and beyond change Raoul as well as the Frasers.
I love your comments about Charles! There’s definitely a subtle reversal of gender roles in his and Mélanie’s relationship I think. As Lady Frances says, “Charles is more nurturing than most men, though one wouldn’t think it to look at him.” He actually spends a lot of “Secrets of a Lady” nurturing Mélanie (after she’s attacked, when she has nightmare) angry as he is at her. Though Mélanie also does her share of looking after him. I like to think the complement each other very well, and I’m delighted you agree :-).