Please, Sir, I Don’t Want Any More
I’ve never been a fan of the Bad Boy in fiction, but lately I’ve become even more fed up with him. Mostly because he swaggers onto the page and expects me to find him sexy by virtue of the fact that he’s “bad”. Or something. Maybe “mysterious”?
What is it that’s so appealing about the Bad Boy that he now seems to be the default romantic hero? Tell me, because I would really like to know what it is that people love about him. Admittedly I’m not his type because if I ever fell for a boy in high school, it was the Class Clown. (But since I went to an all-girls prep school, the point is moot.) I like a man who can make me laugh.
I understand (I think) why the Bad Boy is appealing on an archetypal level. Danger is sexy. It is; I’m not gonna lie. Mystery is intriguing. I get that because I’m susceptible to those charms. I have an, um, inappropriate crush on Benjamin Linus (I’m…working on it.) Han Solo has my space-pirate-rogue-lovin’ heart forever. I adore Edward Fairfax Rochester and his manipulative, dickish, bigamist ways! So why do most Bad Boys turn me off?









