Want to read a romance novel about pirates from 1959? "Absolutely" was my response when I saw this paperback on the shelf at a Salvation Army in an Arizona retirement community. The cover featured an extremely sexy and badass looking lady pirate, with what I assumed to be the protagonist in the background, looking standardly handsome but certainly second fiddle to this female heroine. I have never read a romance novel before because my literary tastes are far too stuck up for that, but recently some galpals and I had been discussing a possible future adventure to Madagascar, and after sending a pic to the group chat, I decided "what the hell. buying it. Who needs two gumballs or two handfuls of Mike and Ikes anyway." (jk I'm an adult and quarters are for parking meters and not breaking bigger bills)(side thought, people that eat Good-n-Plentys are about to go extinct because candy quality had evolved astronomically. Eating a Good-n-Plenty would be like using a rotary phone).
Diving into my first romance novel was a bit exciting. This was the book I carried with me while walking El Camino de Santiago across northern Spain, and I kept waiting impatiently for the part where they went to town. I mean this thing was written in 19 fricken 59, what does a male from 1959 have to say about the permeating lust over a sexy female pirate!? Well. He kept me waiting. I started to lose hope. I wondered why was I bothering to read this weird shitty paperback written in an expired time where misogynists reigned, and where so far the closest thing that came to sex was a scene where they're having a picnic in the (jungle?) and the hot badass chick (virgin, of course) decides to skinny dip in the picturesque pool by the waterfall, and the narrator has to decide whether or not he is going to RAPE her (this was written as nonchalantly as though he was deciding whether or not he felt like squashing an ant or tear some grass from the lawn) and the inner monologue was along the lines of "I knew I could take her, and she would not be able to stop me..." etc etc. Oh, but our noble hero decides NOT to, dear readers, so we better reward him with her hand in marriage later. And also, she's the daughter of the most feared pirate in all the land, who turns out to be an OK guy aside from the murder and pillaging, and so they inherit all sorts of wonderful riches and et ceteras and I recall the ending being a total mind game of "I don't want you to come to my private island!" which was really just a test, and he proves himself by coming to the private island. Or something. I don't know but they lived happily ever after and Frank Slaughter was too much of a prude in 1959 and didn't give any elicit details whatsoever about sexual intercourse so what was the point of this book anyway.
It sounds like I didn't like it but it certainly got my wheels turning and made me think if I was a college professor I would teach a class where we read a large variety of romance novels spanning several decades and comparing the changes in the roles women and men play as well as the difference between male and female writers and additionally who is the target and resulting audience of these books and this was my first (and quite possibly last) piece of data on the subject. And as I mentioned, the cover was really cool. Much cooler than the one Goodreads displays.