Culture Study Goes Full ACOTAR

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I first heard about ACOTAR — the acronym for A Court of Thorns and Roses, the massive best-selling fantasy/romance series from Sarah J. Maas — in a Tweet. The author, whose name is long lost to me now, had seen a woman in a coffee shop reading the first book in the series, with its distinctive orange cover. “What I would give to be back in her shoes,” the tweet read. Maybe that wasn’t the exact tweet. Maybe that’s just how I remember the sentiment: that just seeing the cover makes you yearn for the experience that is reading them for the first time.

No matter what you think of the subject matter, or the genre, or the writing style — when a bunch of people feel so strongly not just about the book, but the experience of reading the book….it’s worth consideration. As in: even if you think you’re not into a series that’s been derisively dubbed “fairy porn,” maybe there’s something happening there.

Maybe you’ll like it (maybe you won’t!) Maybe it’ll make you interrogate why you like it (or don’t). Maybe you’ll get into a bunch of serious and trifling discussions about it with friends and strangers and start posting dream-casting images in your company’s Slack (a thing that absolutely happened to my friend and I’m sure many, many others).

Maybe, in our highly diffused and fragmented media environment, it feels special and generative to consume something a lot of other people are also consuming — and figure out your own relation to it.

That’s what finally prompted me to open the first book, after a year of demurring whenever friends asked if I’d started yet and reading conversations in the monthly “What Are You Reading” threads. Actually, I revise that statement: I agreed to tape an episode of the Culture Study podcast about them, in part because I knew it would prompt me to buy the book….and knowing myself, and my reading habits, and my previous relationship to series, that starting one book meant falling deep into the well of the entire series, and convincing all of my friends who hadn’t already read to start as well.

And so, four books and one novella later, we have a whole podcast for you, recorded with the brilliant Kathryn VanArendonk, whose extensive knowledge of both fantasy and historical “pulp” antecedents balances out my relatively shallow understanding (but eager curiosity!)

The ACOTAR Chokehold

We answer reader questions about genre fiction, about whether or not the writing is “bad” (and what’s at stake with that question), and talk about Feyre’s paintings (which, in my head, look like Thomas Kinkaid’s) and trauma-plots and who the next book is about. The conversation is neatly divided, so you can listen to the first half without spoilers or without any previous knowledge of the books, and the second half is more of an ACOTAR book club, where we work through specific questions about plotting, characterization, and Feyre’s aforementioned painting skills.

I talked to Kathryn for nearly 90 minutes, but even that didn’t feel like enough. So here are some additional themes, observations, and lingering questions, which I will try to organize the same way we organized the podcast: non-spoilery stuff up top, spoiler warning/divider, and then spoilery/detailed stuff below. And again: I am not an expert in fantasy or romance and am observing from that place — but I am very excited to hear the ways that those of you who are deeply versed in these genres will add to, argue with, or texture these thoughts.

And if you have no idea about the basic plot of these books: they’re set in a pre-industrial world inhabited by people (pretty medieval-seeming) and fairies, aka fae, (who have magic and near-immortality; some but not all have wings but all the other parts are the same; they live a lot like humans, just with cooler stuff and longer lives). One of these humans (Feyre) ends up getting turned into a fairy (for complicated reasons) which sets several big-picture plots in motion involving a group of fae who want to enslave all humans, various rival factions of fae, other humans being turned to fae, and Feyre figuring out who she is/what she wants/what dude member of the fae she wants to be with.

1.) These Books Are Hot When Most Media Is Not

Like: very explicit sex scenes that center female pleasure. I am not well-read in romance, and I know that this is not novel (lol), but part of these books’ allure — particularly for people who are not regular readers of romance — is how hot they are. And unlike, say, a movie, where you get one erotic build and a pay-off that’s primarily visual (and, increasingly, we don’t even get that) these books have figured out how to have MANY builds and MANY payoffs (yes I’m talking about many orgasms, but more than that too).

And again, unlike most contemporary film and media, the perspective is almost entirely the woman’s — when it’s (briefly) not, it’s usually because we’re getting insight into how the dude wants to figure out how to better (in every way) for a woman. And because sexual desire is positioned as a natural and essential part of everyone’s personality, the sex scenes don’t feel grafted on — the plot builds, and so, too, does the sexual tension. (Many people complain about the pacing in these books, but I personally love a solid, slow build for the first two-thirds of a book).

Unlike Twilight and 50 Shades — two books with a similar pull outside of their “traditional” genre audiences — these books are not obsessed with purity or abstinence (which, in hindsight, feels so incredibly late 2000s/early 2010s). Indeed, they treat the very notion of sexual purity as antiquated and backwards. ACOTAR sex is fun and revelatory and passionate; it is a means of both release and communication. (Some people are very concerned about teens reading these sex scenes, but as anyone who’s been a teen will tell you, they’re going seek out representations of sex somewhere — I’d much rather it look like this than 98% of other representations).

And truly, besides other romance novels: where are you getting this sort of build? Certainly nowhere on premium cable! I loved the build at the heart of Normal People, but that show was also sad as shit! I love rom-coms, but rom-coms are cute, not hot! The hunger for these books (and others like them, which is usually where people head after getting hooked) is indicative not of some spiking interest in faeries, but in very understandable desire for unrepressed hotness.

2) The Hotness is Rooted in Monogamous Fantasies

One of the reasons the male fae in ACOTAR are so good at sex is pretty straightforward: they are all 500+ years old, and have had a lot of sex. (The female characters are only a few decades old and are somehow also very skilled at sex, which feels more believable than you might think). For ACOTAR, Maas modifies the trope of the “soulmate” as a means of binding one character to another: two characters can love each other and still not be mates, two characters not know each other and the so-called “mating bond” clicks into place, two characters can fall in love and develop a mating bond over time. (It can function, in other words, as love at first sight, “I knew I loved you before I met you,” "I fell in love with you after we were married”)

Importantly, the bond has to be accepted — it is not the same as an arranged marriage. And once that acceptance is given (on both ends), then things get primal: the mated pair is overcome with the desire to constantly have sex, the male fae gets very territorial, etc. etc.

I’m not the only person who’s icked out by this device, and I’m still thinking about why. There’s a lot of sex that happens out of “matehood” but most of that sex nonetheless culminates in it. Matehood legitimizes sex (and its depiction) by rooting it in forever-love. I don’t think Maas is trying to slut-shame; I do think she understands eternal monogamy as very sexy.

3) There’s Still Something Interesting Going On With First Loves

When Kathryn and I first started messaging about ACOTAR, she mentioned a strain I hadn’t fully thought through: that the series grapples quite seriously with the trauma of thinking someone was your perfect match — and then realizing, through their actions or your own growth, that you were wrong.

I won’t say more here, but I think that’s where the idea of mates can and is complicated. Your mate isn’t the first person you sleep with, and they’re not even necessarily the first person you fall in love with. I know that, you know that, but it’s nonetheless very rare to see that reality depicted.

4) Fantasy Spaces Give Us Space to Act Out Alternative Ways Ways of Being (Duh)

Obvious but not always obvious! Like, why am I into reading about a world that’s trying to figure out how to, like, fund the arts, and rectify past misogyny, and work towards equality, and no one hung up on weird sexual mores and the planet isn’t dying? Weird that that’s a pleasant place for my mind to hang out for several hours every day!

5) The More Popular a Genre Writer, The Less Editing They Seem to Receive

I first noticed this when it came to Tana French, others have noted it with the entire Harry Potter series, and there are myriad others. A writer breaks on the scene, goes huge, maybe their second book was already in production, that comes out and is great — and then each book gets longer and looser and, well, worse.

Talking to editor friends, my understanding is that this is a symptom of two things: the writer becomes more powerful (and can refuse any/all edits) and the demand for the next book accelerates the editorial calendar, which means much less time for editing. The end result: saggy books, or, in the case of Book 4 (which is really a novella), books that probably shouldn’t have been published.

Kathryn and I talk a lot more about the subject of “is the writing bad” on the pod. But what those later books really need is a lot less.

6) How We Talk About These Books Matters

I recently sat down on the beach next to my friend and avid reader Laurel Braitman and asked what she had loaded up on her Kindle. She scowled a little and shook her head and started to say that “it’s about fairies? But also kinda porny?” I cut her off and shouted ACOTAR!!!! And then our conversation shifted. Significantly.

Fast forward a month, and I was sitting with another friend, who asked what I was reading on my Kindle — the answer was the fifth book of ACOTAR, and I, too, felt the need to frame it. “It’s about faeries, and I don’t usually read fairy stuff, but it’s really immersive???” Like I could feel myself trying to defend and/or naturalize the choice. I don’t believe in crappy taste hierarchies! But I nonetheless find myself doing a lot of work to justify reading these books, especially with people who do ascribe to crappy taste hierarchies, but even with people who I know do not. [When I recorded the podcast, I told Kathryn that I kinda liked watching how people I knew reacted when I said that I was reading faerie smut, but I still have plenty of those interactions I describe above].

Clearly I have internalized some of this thinking and still need to do some personal work on that front, and part of that is 1) talking about it here and 2) refiguring how I talk about it with other people. When I gave my copy of the first book to my friend earlier this month, I simply said: it’s good, but you kinda have to get to the second book for it to REALLY good, and it’s really hot.

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OKAY NOW WE ARE GOING TO GET A LITTLE SPOILERY…..PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK  

7) Most Dream Casting is Bad but I Found the Solution

I’ve seen various boards of dream casting for the series, mostly using established actors and celebrities — and I find all of it underwhelming. Stars are beautiful, but they’re not fae beautiful (the way we’re meant to understand fae beauty/skill/power = it’s like every human attribute, amped up to, oh, 12).

And you know what’s GREAT at amping things up to 12? AI. The most compelling Cassian image I’ve seen (sent to me by my best friend Alaina, who begrudgingly agreed to read the books and suddenly was texting me about finishing book 5) is from an artist who uses various AI technologies (Midjourney with some help from Photoshop and Procreate) to fine-tune their creations. Thus:

A rendering of Cassian from an artist who works with AI technologies

There’s a long-gestating adaptation of the series in the works at Hulu, but the problem, as is so often the problem, is that the actors who looks like AI are generally bad at acting. I could be wrong! Parts of Game of Thrones and Outlander suggest this is possible! But I remain skeptical.

Sidenote: I find these renderings of two of the main characters’ homes (Tamlin’s and Rhys’s, both narratively framed as very desirable, in their own ways) fascinating. To explain a little: the main fae in the story are all “high fae” and also the rulers of their fae kingdoms, which also means they are very rich (as with most monarchies, the source of their wealth is circumspect at best).

And yet: the opulent ease of these palaces is absolutely part of the larger fantasy. You get great sex and great bedding! (And, interestingly, an understanding of “amazing food” that is a meat, a bunch of potatoes cooked in an alluring way, and side vegetables). I had murky yet sumptuous visions in my head of these spaces, but these TikToks tell a more specific story. Namely: the hold that West Elm has on our understanding of wealth! These people don’t have working plumbing (despite the inexplicable appearance of a toilet for Feyre to barf in, bygones) but they have deep navy velour couches out of Joanna Gaines’ last remodel? Does Tamlin’s manor indeed feature Martha Stewart-esque hydrangea topiaries? What an exquisite time capsule of extremely 2024 (2023?) visions of luxury.

8) Feyre’s painting is so hilarious

I’m not mad about a protagonist with a hobby that isn’t caregiving. And yet: I know it’s bad, I know it, I know it in my bones.

@crying_but_tryingReplying to @ksmythe26 I’m DONE 😂 #feyre #tamlin #acotar #booktok #sarahjmaas #fyp

Tiktok failed to load.

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9) Cassian > Rhys, Nessa > Feyre

I find this fascinating: Maas allows us to leave the perspective of our protagonist entirely to identify and empathize with her heretofore unlikeable sister….and then that sister is a VALKYRIE who also WINS THE BLOOD RITE and has a way hotter relationship with her mate? How do Rhys and Feyre come back from this? They feel so vanilla and boring, and as Kathryn and I discuss in the second half of the podcast, the “benching Feyre with a pregnancy” is deeply fucked up but not as fucked up as the fact that these fae can recover from basically any injury but DON’T KNOW HOW TO DO A C-SECTION. Preposterous. If the next book is indeed about Elain and Azriel, does Nesta get pregnant next (as teased at the end of Book 5)? Thanks, I hate it.

10) I Want More Than The Marriage-to-Immediate Pregnancy Progression

There is SO MUCH TALK about how difficult it is for fae to have children and yet Feyre has one almost immediately. I also find the bulletin-boarding about how each of these women wants to figure out who they are and what they want and their place in the relationship before having kids to ring false when/if they become pregnant in less than a year.

I don’t have anything against fae babies (although maybe I do, who needs a fae baby); I just yearn for a protagonist’s narrative trajectory that doesn’t hew to the “grow up, find love, heal from trauma, have baby” formula that pervades the vast majority of media we consume.

For all the rest of my thoughts (and some very good ACOTAR toks), head over to the podcast — which includes Kathyrn and Melody’s very good recs on what to read next.

And as for today’s comments — we can go in whatever direction you’d like, but I will not hesitate to delete comments that dismiss these books or these genres out of hand. We can talk about adjective use, we can talk about “watery bowels” and “speck of lint,” we can talk about how we talk about all of these things — but I’m not at all interested in talking about how the popularity of these books is a sign of the downfall of civilization. So let’s talk about everything else.

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