It’s February, and the ads for love–that is, the tangible and purchasable expressions of love–are unavoidable. I can’t help thinking how little Valentine’s Day (As Seen On TV) has to do with love and romance.
I’m not a cynic, I swear. I’m an idealist. I’m actually one of the most hopeless romantics you’ll find. I just happen to have some odd ideas about what is truly romantic.
Blame my addiction to science fiction and adventure movies. The stakes are high, and time is short. There’s no Zale’s jeweler or FTD florist in a moment of Great Peril. But who wouldn’t give it all up for Hawkeye in Last of the Mohicans when he tells Cathy: “Just stay alive, whatever you do. I will find you.”
Sigh.
But for me, it comes down to that scene in The Empire Strikes Back when Princess Leia tells Han Solo “I love you” and he says…
“I know.”
Just before he’s frozen in carbonite and taken away to his doom.
Why is this so perfect? For one thing, it’s dead on for the character. (And rumored to be Harrison Ford’s suggestion.) Dramatic protestations of love would have been out of character, not to mention cheeseball in the extreme under the circumstances. I mean, do you want to declare undying devotion with Darth Vader and Boba Fett looking on scornfully? I need no further evidence of this than the “romance” in the prequels-that-shall-not-be-named.
“I know,” was right in line with Han’s usual swagger, but it’s the look on his face that turns it from a cocky acknowledgement of her admission to an assurance that she doesn’t have to tell him anything–he knows her heart. Because of course he loves her, too.
Love scenes are my favorite to write, but some of the trickiest, because so much of what makes the connection between characters isn’t merely actions and words, but the subtext. Add to that the natural awkwardness of teen and young adult characters, and YA writers in particular are left trying to balance reality against a satisfying read. Hearts and flowers may be as out of character for a teenage boy as they are from Han Solo. And yet, we want our heroine (and our readers) to have no doubt of the depth of the hero’s feelings. An actor can wear that subtext on his face, but it’s up to us, as writers, to get into our characters hearts as well as their heads and show that subliminal emotion on the page.
It’s in working those unspoken feelings into the verbal picture–that is, showing them, not telling them–that a love scene strikes the balance between real and believable, yet slightly improved and utterly sigh-worthy.
So, fess up romantics out there. What is the most unexpectedly romantic seen you’ve read, seen, or written? There’s a scene that takes place in a bathroom in The Splendor Falls that I’m particularly fond of, if I do say so myself.
