liralen's review against another edition
4.0
When they [the author's friends] heard about my research, many would smirk and crack Amish-themed bedroom jokes ("Wouldst thou untie thy covering strings?") or offer title suggestions for the Amish novel they think someone should write (Amish Girls Gone Wild). (69)
I'm really sorry to have finished this book, because it made for an excellent conversation piece: 'So I'm reading this book about Amish romance novels...'
Better, though, it's just a really good book all round. Weaver-Zercher is not, by her own admission, normally a reader of Amish romance (though she read plenty as research), but she takes a very balanced view of both the books and their readers. Take this:
My friend Jenell is a white feminist academic who votes Democrat, reads books on spirituality by a Buddhist-informed Quaker, and knows how to choose the pitch-perfect swear word. She is also an evangelical Christian. Bishop T. D. Jakes is an evangelical Christian, too. Jakes, who is African American, is pastor of a thirty-thousand-member church based in Dallas, Texas. With an evident taste for designer suits, Jakes reigns over a media empire that includes a record label, feature films, plays, books, and a sitcom. Thousands of miles away from Jakes's congregation, in northwestern Ohio, my cousin Lois is homeschooling her children. She wears skirts, covers her head when she goes to church, and picks berries and apples to preserve for winter. Evangelical? Definitely. (57)
Weaver-Zercher is talking about religion there, not Amish romance (it's relevant; more on that in a moment), but it's a good illustration of the way she approaches the topic of Amish romance readers: that it's not a one-size-fits-all proposition.
On Amish romance and religion: it's an odd duck of a subgenre, because most Amish romance is not written by or for Amish readers; rather, it's written by and for an evangelical audience (one of the first—of the very few—Amish romances I've read featured a heroine who became a Mennonite by the end of the book; I understand that this is not uncommon in the subgenre). How can books that, on the one hand, sanctify the Amish also question whether the Amish are even Christian? asks Weaver-Zercher. How can a sectarian religious group be viewed as both model and mission field? Nonpareil but not necessarily going to heaven? Worthy of emulation but requiring of prayers for their salvation? (119) On the one hand the Amish are held up as models of simplicity and virtue and so on; on the other hand some Christian groups don't consider them 'saved' because they don't talk about religion in the same ways that those other groups do.
But oh, this book. Academic and enlightening and highly entertaining, all at once:
Several of the Amish people with whom I spoke dismissed the books on literary grounds. Sitting outside on a warm June evening, holding her son on her lap, a young Amish mother in Ohio who taught school for eight years is eager to chat about her favorite novels by Barbara Kingsolver and James Herriott. When I ask her about Amish romance novels, she talks first about the plot weaknesses of the ones she has read and then tells me her theory of why they're so popular: "They're light reading," she says, then raises her eyebrows significantly and leans forward. "You sure never have to go for the dictionary." (188)
When I ask [another interview subject] whether her friends and family read Amish novels, she says no. "They're big fans of Karen Kingsbury and Francine Rivers," she says. "My mother reads and reads and reads them. But they don't read Amish." And although she hasn't heard of anyone in her community who loves Amish fiction, she says that her mother and several other older women have begun passing around Danielle Steel novels—a revelation that makes her daughter, who is sipping tea, clap a hand over her mouth and slap the table in silent mirth. (189)
But Weaver-Zercher doesn't spend the book bashing Amish romance. She raises significant questions about the genre—questions about authenticity and accuracy and cultural appropriation—but she also argues that the value of particular kinds of literature is contextual. When readers are looking for a good story, how much do they care about its facticity? And what does it even mean to say that a novel is authentic or accurate? What measure of fact is required of fiction, and how beholden are makers of fictional worlds to the vagaries of the real one? (197) But not just in terms of fact and fiction. It's also a question of taste and what the readers are getting out of it and so on and so forth.
Also! Look: This is the same book as this, just repackaged (and retitled). There's an evolution of market for you. And now I'm terribly curious about [b:Almost Amish|12963151|Almost Amish|Kathryn Cushman|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1348816479s/12963151.jpg|18120895], for no good reason except that it seems so incongruous.
I'll leave you with this:
...a February 2011 article about Amish fiction in Publishers Weekly began with this "Recipe for an Amish Novel":
Take
One young woman (Sarah, Katie, or Rebecca).
One young man (Jacob, Daniel, Samuel).
Add one, or more, problems:
Someone is 21 and unmarried.
Someone has a family secret.
Someone is tempted by life outside the Amish community.
Someone's heart has been broken.
Mix together with one Daed, one Mamm, assorted siblings.
(Optional: add grossdawdi and/or grossmammi).
Bake together for 352 pages till resolved.
Garnish with Pennsylvania Dutch glossary or recipes or quilt pattern. (73–74)
I'm really sorry to have finished this book, because it made for an excellent conversation piece: 'So I'm reading this book about Amish romance novels...'
Better, though, it's just a really good book all round. Weaver-Zercher is not, by her own admission, normally a reader of Amish romance (though she read plenty as research), but she takes a very balanced view of both the books and their readers. Take this:
My friend Jenell is a white feminist academic who votes Democrat, reads books on spirituality by a Buddhist-informed Quaker, and knows how to choose the pitch-perfect swear word. She is also an evangelical Christian. Bishop T. D. Jakes is an evangelical Christian, too. Jakes, who is African American, is pastor of a thirty-thousand-member church based in Dallas, Texas. With an evident taste for designer suits, Jakes reigns over a media empire that includes a record label, feature films, plays, books, and a sitcom. Thousands of miles away from Jakes's congregation, in northwestern Ohio, my cousin Lois is homeschooling her children. She wears skirts, covers her head when she goes to church, and picks berries and apples to preserve for winter. Evangelical? Definitely. (57)
Weaver-Zercher is talking about religion there, not Amish romance (it's relevant; more on that in a moment), but it's a good illustration of the way she approaches the topic of Amish romance readers: that it's not a one-size-fits-all proposition.
On Amish romance and religion: it's an odd duck of a subgenre, because most Amish romance is not written by or for Amish readers; rather, it's written by and for an evangelical audience (one of the first—of the very few—Amish romances I've read featured a heroine who became a Mennonite by the end of the book; I understand that this is not uncommon in the subgenre). How can books that, on the one hand, sanctify the Amish also question whether the Amish are even Christian? asks Weaver-Zercher. How can a sectarian religious group be viewed as both model and mission field? Nonpareil but not necessarily going to heaven? Worthy of emulation but requiring of prayers for their salvation? (119) On the one hand the Amish are held up as models of simplicity and virtue and so on; on the other hand some Christian groups don't consider them 'saved' because they don't talk about religion in the same ways that those other groups do.
But oh, this book. Academic and enlightening and highly entertaining, all at once:
Several of the Amish people with whom I spoke dismissed the books on literary grounds. Sitting outside on a warm June evening, holding her son on her lap, a young Amish mother in Ohio who taught school for eight years is eager to chat about her favorite novels by Barbara Kingsolver and James Herriott. When I ask her about Amish romance novels, she talks first about the plot weaknesses of the ones she has read and then tells me her theory of why they're so popular: "They're light reading," she says, then raises her eyebrows significantly and leans forward. "You sure never have to go for the dictionary." (188)
When I ask [another interview subject] whether her friends and family read Amish novels, she says no. "They're big fans of Karen Kingsbury and Francine Rivers," she says. "My mother reads and reads and reads them. But they don't read Amish." And although she hasn't heard of anyone in her community who loves Amish fiction, she says that her mother and several other older women have begun passing around Danielle Steel novels—a revelation that makes her daughter, who is sipping tea, clap a hand over her mouth and slap the table in silent mirth. (189)
But Weaver-Zercher doesn't spend the book bashing Amish romance. She raises significant questions about the genre—questions about authenticity and accuracy and cultural appropriation—but she also argues that the value of particular kinds of literature is contextual. When readers are looking for a good story, how much do they care about its facticity? And what does it even mean to say that a novel is authentic or accurate? What measure of fact is required of fiction, and how beholden are makers of fictional worlds to the vagaries of the real one? (197) But not just in terms of fact and fiction. It's also a question of taste and what the readers are getting out of it and so on and so forth.
Also! Look: This is the same book as this, just repackaged (and retitled). There's an evolution of market for you. And now I'm terribly curious about [b:Almost Amish|12963151|Almost Amish|Kathryn Cushman|https://d.gr-assets.com/books/1348816479s/12963151.jpg|18120895], for no good reason except that it seems so incongruous.
I'll leave you with this:
...a February 2011 article about Amish fiction in Publishers Weekly began with this "Recipe for an Amish Novel":
Take
One young woman (Sarah, Katie, or Rebecca).
One young man (Jacob, Daniel, Samuel).
Add one, or more, problems:
Someone is 21 and unmarried.
Someone has a family secret.
Someone is tempted by life outside the Amish community.
Someone's heart has been broken.
Mix together with one Daed, one Mamm, assorted siblings.
(Optional: add grossdawdi and/or grossmammi).
Bake together for 352 pages till resolved.
Garnish with Pennsylvania Dutch glossary or recipes or quilt pattern. (73–74)
andipants's review against another edition
4.0
A very interesting and accessible discussion of Amish romance as a genre. The author does a good job of bringing up several angles of discussion; she doesn't draw many conclusions, but rather presents facts and possible arguments and lets readers decide where their own opinions fall. As such, the book is not overly critical or condemning of the genre, but it does bring up potentially problematic aspects such as inaccurate representations, cultural appropriation, and exploitation. Personally, I would have been interested to read a treatment that pushed a little harder and teased out a more thorough discussion of these issues, but this book sets out to be a broad overview rather than a thorough critique, so it's hard to find too much fault there.
One thing this book does very well is broaden the discussion around the quality of the genre. Amish romance, not unlike secular romance, is often derided as poorly written, sentimental schlock, but the author here does a good job of explaining several factors contributing to the final product, including the concept of taste publics, the cultural purposes served by particular tropes, and the religious motivation on both the authors' and readers' parts. I found particularly interesting the section comparing the Amish romance genre to religious iconography; it was a connection I hadn't made before, and it is an apt comparison.
One relatively minor but persistent complaint I had was that instead of ending each chapter with a brief conclusion or recap of the points made, the author instead spends a few paragraphs introducing and essentially "teasing" the next chapter. It felt like a novel putting in purposeful cliffhanger chapter endings to make you want to keep reading. I really dislike this in nonfiction; each chapter should be dedicated to a specific, distinct aspect of the topic, and I want time to thoroughly digest one topic before moving on to the next. Other than that, though, it was very well-written and enjoyable.
One thing this book does very well is broaden the discussion around the quality of the genre. Amish romance, not unlike secular romance, is often derided as poorly written, sentimental schlock, but the author here does a good job of explaining several factors contributing to the final product, including the concept of taste publics, the cultural purposes served by particular tropes, and the religious motivation on both the authors' and readers' parts. I found particularly interesting the section comparing the Amish romance genre to religious iconography; it was a connection I hadn't made before, and it is an apt comparison.
One relatively minor but persistent complaint I had was that instead of ending each chapter with a brief conclusion or recap of the points made, the author instead spends a few paragraphs introducing and essentially "teasing" the next chapter. It felt like a novel putting in purposeful cliffhanger chapter endings to make you want to keep reading. I really dislike this in nonfiction; each chapter should be dedicated to a specific, distinct aspect of the topic, and I want time to thoroughly digest one topic before moving on to the next. Other than that, though, it was very well-written and enjoyable.
eely225's review against another edition
5.0
"As a study of a subgenre of inspirational fiction about a people group that make up less that one-tenth of 1 percent of the U.S. population, this book has a very narrow purview." -The author, describing the book in the book.
Who needs 250 pages about the exponential growth in Amish-themed romantic fiction over the last decade? Most people are unaware of the trend. Any that are already have clear explanations (Christian women are repressed and want to read about other repressed women; it's nostalgia for a non-existent past; racially anxious readers can be sure that very few people of color will show up in Amish settlements). What the author does so well is moving beyond simple explanations of the trend by exploring in depth the history of the genre, who writes it, who it is written for, and its relationship with the real communities it attempts to portray.
I rarely consider media criticism to be page-turning material, but, like the novels it investigates, the book has a propulsive feel as layers of investigation build one upon the other. Now, since this is ultimately an academic work, there is no big reveal at the end. The author posits potential, defensible conclusions of varying degrees of cynicism. The real joy of the book is its pursuit of depth about a narrow subject. In doing so, the reader is able to reflect on how they too are tied to a trend that seemed foreign, that what is praised and indicted in the readership of Amish novels also likely connects to praises and indictments to be leveled at the reader.
Quite frankly, there is simply too much interesting material here for me to include in the review. Part of the delight of the book is the sense of exploring the subject in increasing depth with the author who makes the explicit choice to alternate between formal and personal writing to indicate her lack of omniscience and the personal nature of the investigation.
I've never read an Amish novel. It's entirely possible that I never will. But understanding how the trend became what it is and how it reflects the publishing industry and the wider culture is more than worth taking the time to delve into.
Who needs 250 pages about the exponential growth in Amish-themed romantic fiction over the last decade? Most people are unaware of the trend. Any that are already have clear explanations (Christian women are repressed and want to read about other repressed women; it's nostalgia for a non-existent past; racially anxious readers can be sure that very few people of color will show up in Amish settlements). What the author does so well is moving beyond simple explanations of the trend by exploring in depth the history of the genre, who writes it, who it is written for, and its relationship with the real communities it attempts to portray.
I rarely consider media criticism to be page-turning material, but, like the novels it investigates, the book has a propulsive feel as layers of investigation build one upon the other. Now, since this is ultimately an academic work, there is no big reveal at the end. The author posits potential, defensible conclusions of varying degrees of cynicism. The real joy of the book is its pursuit of depth about a narrow subject. In doing so, the reader is able to reflect on how they too are tied to a trend that seemed foreign, that what is praised and indicted in the readership of Amish novels also likely connects to praises and indictments to be leveled at the reader.
Quite frankly, there is simply too much interesting material here for me to include in the review. Part of the delight of the book is the sense of exploring the subject in increasing depth with the author who makes the explicit choice to alternate between formal and personal writing to indicate her lack of omniscience and the personal nature of the investigation.
I've never read an Amish novel. It's entirely possible that I never will. But understanding how the trend became what it is and how it reflects the publishing industry and the wider culture is more than worth taking the time to delve into.
erinmilmmil's review against another edition
5.0
Reading as background info for the podcast and this book was really interesting, well-researched, and informative. I will say that I skimmed over a lot of the literary theory stuff, and was far more drawn to her conversations around these books and gender roles, feminism, race, and evangelicalism. Hard to believe it's almost 10 years old and the amish romance phenomenon has just continued to grow. Would someday love a revised edition that gives an update.
nej's review against another edition
4.0
Fascinating and engaging deep dive into the popularity of Amish romance novels. I really learned a lot about the genre and was so interested in this entire book.
abbynaf's review against another edition
4.0
This is a well-written analysis of the growing Amish romance fiction genre that while lacking any clear answers, did provide me with a lot to think about.
I appreciated the author's use of the personal lens to view this and the intermingling of personal story with her more academic analysis.
If you are curious about this new genre, or its readers (both Amish and non-Amish), I highly recommend this book.
I appreciated the author's use of the personal lens to view this and the intermingling of personal story with her more academic analysis.
If you are curious about this new genre, or its readers (both Amish and non-Amish), I highly recommend this book.
honniker's review against another edition
4.0
This was a really interesting look at the history of Amish Romance Fiction, research on why it's become so popular and some opinions of Amish people on Amish fiction. A really fascinating read. Definitely recommend.