I’m going to do something I never do. I’m going to talk about something I hate.

(TW Rape)

I really like period pieces. I have a lot of affection for them. I also love older books and I love smutty books, there’s no prudishness here. I recently read The Duke and I, the first book of the Bridgerton series which is the subject of the first season of the Netflix show. It uh. See. Ya see. I was trying to give this a chance.

I have a disease, I will consume almost any media if a friend recommends it. I have watched multiple seasons of a show before because someone has complained to me that they don’t have anyone to talk about it with. And I enjoy doing that for people. I am an insomniac, I have the free time working from home. That’s no problem whatever. And a lot of the time it helps me to find new, interesting things that I wouldn’t have sought out for myself. And sometimes it means I have to watch Cats.

I had watched both seasons of Bridgerton, the first based on The Duke and I and the second based on The Viscount Who Loved Me. The first season had some really heavy, really problematic topics, and the second season I liked. I was confused by the people around me who then complained that the second season wasn’t as steamy enough—and I had a real issue with that because the main difference between season 1 and season 2 is consent.

We live in a patriarchy. It is not a post-patriarchy world. It’s not a post capitalist world. There are still positions of power and struggle, and The Duke and I leans into that. There is a lot of very aggressive, very closed off, very pervasive themes of poor communication, and The Duke gets raped.

The time laspe between the two seasons made me give the second one a chance. I didn’t quite remember the show and someone said ‘oo’ and I said sure. And I liked the second season. It was better written, better put together, everyone consented, the conflict was based on real interpersonal struggles rooted in childhood trauma, it would be a good show to read through and show some of those couples counseling chops, breaking it down to inner child work. I liked it.

The first season ain’t like that. But as I said, time had passed and has passed and I got the offer to read The Duke and I for free and what the hell, sure, why not. Free is always the right price for me.

So I gave the book a shot. Maybe it was really steamy or well written. And it was those things.

It was also much worse.

When we hit the scene where the rape takes place in the show, the rape doesn’t happen in the book. I said to myself ‘So Netflix decided that?’ Then I kept reading. Then the rape did take place and it was worse.

Overall The Duke and I presented a lot of really concerning themes for me. Men are always aggressive; someone yelling at you or pinning to you the ground when you’re fighting makes it sexy and okay; a man’s childhood trauma can and should be fixed by his wife; never talk anything out; it’s okay to sneak around behind your partner’s back and find out things about him from other people since, of course, you shouldn’t talk anything out with him directly; and, somehow, raping men is not the same as raping women.

There’s Lancelot vibes except this Lancelot isn’t as endearing.

I’m not even sure how to break each of these down. The Bridgerton brothers are a gaggle of underdeveloped meatheads who just want to punch things; the first response to everything is violence. Women are frivolous and just out to marry for money and that is presented as universal and not the aspirations of this social climbing ton. The servants, who rarely have names, get a quick ‘fuck yeah’ moment from Daphne where she discourages her brother from waking them up after midnight to warm up some milk for them. End discussion of treating servants well. Poor people are furniture or plot devices and portrayed exclusively as spies. No one feels fleshed out.

And you can rape your husband better from his childhood trauma and into loving you.

It’s hard to imagine, but Netflix actually made this better.

The rape scene in the show features Daphne realizing that Simon is lying to her about how to consummate the marriage and then changing positions, refusing to get off of him—this because she believes he is impotent and disappointed that she cannot have children, only to learn that he took advantage of her virginity and ignorance and that he actively is choosing not to have children because he doesn’t want the family name to be carried on. His father is portrayed as extremely abusive and cruel and Simon has vowed to let the family line die. Daphne refuses to get off of Simon, causing him to cum in her rather than on the bed as he had been. She then uses his panic to confront him. A lot of what she does in the show could be, (still rape, but could be) blamed on her ignorance.

In the book, it’s somehow worse.

Daphne confronts him after he cums on the bed, referencing something she had heard about conception from one of the servants. He then explains to her that he had warned her, multiple times, that he would not have children and she married him anyway with this knowledge. This turns into a back and forth ‘won’t versus can’t’ argument and she moves into another bedroom, denying sex. He becomes drunk, she has to take care of him, and then while he is semi conscious and talking in his sleep, she rapes him. And he later reflects on how he did enjoy it, and he was saying encouraging things, and it might be his fault for being drunk.

No.

Just no.

There’s more I could say, but in the end, just fucking no.

He leaves her, she returns to town. She sends him a letter that she’s pregnant. He goes through all the trauma of not wanting the pregnancy. He finally comes back because he just loves her so much, swoon, and finds out she was never pregnant. But he forgives her and they bone and they have four or five kids in the end because she cured his childhood trauma through rape.

This is one of the most misandrist books I have ever read.