Adrie’s Hot Take: The Comstock Act & Clinch Covers
In the 1870s, Anthony Comstock got such a splintered stick up his rear end about even the most remote possibility of “obscenity” that he made it his life’s mission to stop everyone else from having fun. The Comstock Act, passed in 1873, made it illegal to mail “obscene” material including books, art, pharmaceuticals, and even medical information through the US Postal Service (USPS). What does obscene mean? No one knows, that’s the best part. Comstock didn’t have a real definition for obscenity, he just knew he didn’t like it.
When I say “clinch” cover, for anyone of a certain age, this calls to mind a very specific image. Two lovers, usually white, and usually hetero, locked in a passionate embrace that almost looks painful if you squint. A heavily muscled hero, linen lawn shirt gaping open to his navel, or waistband, and a delicate waif of a heroine, probably blonde, with a heaving, gravity-defying bosom stuffed into a corseted gown of some indeterminate historical origin clasp each other tightly. Authors like Beverly Jenkins, Johanna Lindsey, Lisa Kleypas, and Margo Maguire truly embodied the stereotype of these so-called “bodice rippers.”
Fun fact, bodice rippers got their name from the romance novels of the 70s and 80s where the dashing hero would literally rip the heroine’s clothing from her body.
From the 1940s to the 1970s, romance novel covers were a relatively tame, demure, and usually illustrated affair. Dashing gentlemen with pencil thin moustaches and tailored tuxedos protected the virtue of their heroines clad in frothy, usually virginal white, lace monstrosities. In the early 70s, however, Avon Publishing burst onto the scene with explicit, on-page descriptions of sex acts that mentioned quivering, throbbing, heaving, and…thrusting. Avon’s covers soon followed suit and began to reflect the descriptions within, featuring long flowing locks, chiselled abs, and miles of bare flesh.
Everyone say, “Thank you, Fabio.”
For all that these covers were considered “trashy” and “lowbrow,” clinch covers were incredibly popular throughout the 80s and 90s. Some authors even took it a step further with “naked” covers, where the models’ most important bits were covered by strategically placed design flourishes and text. In the 90s, covers began to reflect the changing, or just more visible, demographics of romance readers – specifically, women of colour. While clinch covers fell out of favour in traditional romance publishing in the late 90s and early aughts, paranormal authors like Kerrelyn Sparks, Lara Adrian, JR Ward, and Lynsey Sands doubled down, using familiarity to market something new to sceptical audiences.
In the present day, cartoon covers have become de rigueur. What used to signal a wholly cosy and/or wholesome experience, suitable for any teen or young adult looking to experience those butterflies in their tummy for the first time, can now hide the raunchiest of romps. Despite this shift, some authors, like Courtney Milan, Alisha Rai, Alyssa Cole, and EE Ottoman, have brought traditional clinch covers into the modern era with characters of colour and trans/queer couples. Others still, like CM Nascosta, Katee Robert, Lillian Lark, and Heather Guerre have turned convention on its head with clinch covers that feature monstrous heroes and their human heroines.
Despite my best, optimistic efforts, I do wonder if the move towards discreet and cartoon romance novel covers doesn’t signal a deeper fear, on the part of publishers, that the current supreme court will attempt to curtail the sale of these books through the weaponization of the Comstock Act. I know a lot of people just like cartoon covers – I’ve been known to call them cute once or twice myself – but I am nothing more than a thought daughter at heart. (I’m also little more than a history nerd and a hopeless romantic who just really loves a good clinch cover.) We are seeing (not really) unprecedented attacks on the autonomy and freedom of young, especially single, women including what they eat, wear, adopt as pets, and yes, even what they read.
Given the reputation that clinch covers have, and had historically, for being little more than written pornography, I do have concerns. And those concerns are only heightened when I hear young people in their 20s attack those who create, and consume, erotic media in any form.
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Related Recommendation: Spell of the Highlander by Karen Marie Moning
Jessi St. James has got to get a life. Too many hours studying ancient artifacts has given the hardworking archaeology student a bad case of sex on the brain. So she figures she must be dreaming when she spies a gorgeous half-naked man staring out at her from inside the silvery glass of an ancient mirror. But when a split-second decision saves her from a terrifying attempt on her life, Jessi suddenly finds herself confronting six and a half feet of smoldering, insatiable alpha male.
Heir to the arcane magic of his Druid ancestors, eleven centuries ago Cian MacKeltar was trapped inside the Dark Glass, one of four coveted Unseelie Hallows, objects of unspeakable power. When the Dark Glass is stolen, an ancient enemy will stop at nothing to reclaim it, destroying everything in his path–including the one woman who may just hold the key to breaking the ninth-century Highlander’s dark spell. For Jessi, the muscle-bound sex god in the mirror is not only tantalizingly real, he’s offering his protection–from exactly what, Jessi doesn’t know. And all he wants in exchange is the exquisite pleasure of sharing her bed.
Yet even as Cian’s insatiable hunger begins to work its dark magic on Jessi, his ancient enemy is about to obtain the final and most dangerous of the Unseelie Hallows–and the ninth-century Highlander must stop him from getting it. Nothing less than the very fabric of the universe and two passionately entwined lives are at stake–as Cian and Jessi fight to claim the kind of love that comes along but once in an ice age. . . .
Stitch’s Episode Aftermath: Tempering Expectations… And Having Some In the First Place
I’ve decided to dust off my old YouTube channel to do a little bit of vlogging on the side. In my aftermath series, I’ll be looking at some aspect of something we talked about in the episode and digging into it a little more. This week, it’s about tempering your expectations – or having any at all – when it comes to starting a piece of media… and how to react when a piece of media doesn’t match your expectations or other people’s reviews.
Related Recommendation: Kiss Me at the Stroke of Midnight by Rin Mikimoto
A sardonic rom-com manga, Kiss Me at the Stroke of Midnight is perfect for fans of edgier shojo like My Little Monster and Kare Kano.
At school, Hinana is an honors student, respected by all her classmates. She’s totally above things as juvenile as crushes and dating. Secretly, though, she has but one wish: to have a fairy-tale romance. One day, a super-hot celebrity named Kaede shows up at Hinana’s high school to shoot a movie, and it becomes difficult to keep up her act. By pure chance—or y’know, fate!—Kaede reveals his own ridiculous personality to Hinana, and her ordinary life turns breathtakingly romantic! Or just really, really… weird?!
Stitch's Media Mix 