The Romance We Were Taught to Want
Bibliophile’s Bite | A review and analysis of themes from Natasha Solomons’ Fair Rosaline
“The fair Rosaline, whom thou so lovest, / With all my heart, I thank thee for this.”
Fair Rosaline, by Natasha Solomons, offers a fascinating take on a mainstay feature in curricula throughout high schools near and far - one that millions of impressionable teenagers encounter. Solomons’ reinterpretation of Romeo and Juliet is unexpectedly relevant considering the themes woven throughout her reimagining of the iconic tale of supposed star-crossed lovers. Fair Rosaline follows Rosaline Capulet, cousin to the more famous Juliet, as she embarks on a quest to seize life’s passions and pleasures before her fate is sealed within the walls of a convent. As any young woman determined to savor life's thrills would agree, sneaking out to a party - or, in the case of a Renaissance teen, a grand masquerade - ranks high on the bucket list. Of course, as with all classic tales of rebellion, this daring escape sets the stage for a series of unexpected twists and revelations that tempt the fates of both Rosaline and Juliet. Rosaline encounters Romeo Montague in her midnight escapades to the masquerade hosted at the Montague estate, and the story begins to build as the reader examines Rosaline’s psyche, witnesses her juvenile inability to appreciate the forces of good in her life (read: her cousin, Tybalt), and her heart-wrenching journey through the pseudo-romance Romeo crafts for his own malicious gain. While predominantly focused on Rosaline’s experiences, there comes a twist of fate (dare I suggest) when Romeo tires of his escapades with Rosaline and turns his dangerous attentions on her younger cousin, Juliet. The overarching story gives voice to a character relegated to the sidelines in Shakespeare’s original work, provides a lens through which we can contemplate what it means to discern between young lust versus young love, and exposes the perils of navigating male aggression that is all too often romanticized in the period pieces and pop culture products that young women readily consume. Fair Rosaline employs a youthful tone and straightforward prose to guide readers through the narrative while expertly revealing the predatory nature of core characters, Romeo and Friar Laurence. Fair Rosaline challenges the reader to reevaluate the connotations associated with men of the Romeo archetype - tragic hero, romantic lover. Rosaline’s story is an incredibly important one - while a work of fiction in the context of this novel, her experience is devastatingly applicable to what many women experience today. Solomons explores many of these reflections in the epilogue of her book, which evoked a visceral response from a corner of my psyche that I felt compelled to explore. As Rosaline discovers, there is power in knowing how to identify and defend against the Romeos (and the roles they’ve played, past and present) in our lives.
In Shakespeare’s original 24-scene, five-act tragedy, Romeo’s role as the devilishly handsome, persuasive, suave teenage lover devoted to winning Juliet’s heart - which, for Juliet comes with an added bonus of escaping her predetermined marital arrangements fashioned by out-of-touch adults. Centuries after Romeo and Juliet’s initial publishing, the countless existing adaptations of its tragic story fall woefully short of considering one of the most compelling perspectives of the play - that of the earnest, impressionable female, whose susceptibility to the charms of Romeo hinges on her [pick your adjective - naivety… desperation… yearning for male acceptance? None of the above?]. Growing up as a voracious consumer of historical fiction content, I became accustomed to the recurring tropes of power, lust, intrigue, betrayal, uncertainty, conflict, and desperation, which shaped my early idea that these attributes can culminate in a passion that a Romeo would simply describe as love. I used to swoon over Juliet's Act 3, Scene 2 request in Shakespeare’s original play (which Solomons also leverages in Fair Rosaline): "Give me my Romeo; and when I shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine that all the world will be in love with night, and pay no worship to the garish sun." Romantic, right? Upon reflection, it’s fair to question whether these aspirations reflect a young woman’s longing for a pure eternal love, or, if this same young woman is blinded by her intense, idealized, unrealistic perspective of what it means to bask in the warm glow of Romeo’s gaze.
The most tragic - and yet perhaps the most brilliant - element of Fair Rosaline is that, in reading Solomons’ interpretation, the audience comes to realize how the original play inadvertently reinforces the harmful idea that young girls, like Rosaline and Juliet, should be drawn to the pursuits of Romeo. You don’t have to be a lover of historical fiction to recognize that young women perceive it to be a right of passage - nay, an honor - to fall prey to a Romeo, who, as seen in Fair Rosaline, shape shifts into the form of an older, handsome male that relies on beguiling surface-level qualities to worm his way in between the legs of the unsuspecting young woman. Through this new perspective, we see that Romeo, far from being a charming lover, embodies the behavior of a predator, a realization that deepens as we reconsider Shakespeare’s play through this lens. Solomons’ retelling forces us to confront the uncomfortable truth that the romanticized actions of Romeo are, in fact, a troubling reflection of toxic behavior. His overwhelming, borderline uncontrollable, passion manifests as possessiveness and aggression, which Rosaline initially perceives to be intriguing, even seductive. She’s forced to come to terms with the fact that the Romeo who worked tirelessly to court her, professing his deep feelings of love and devotion, was only after one thing - and it certainly wasn’t her personality.
But, what does all of this say about Rosaline? Which adjective did you gravitate toward earlier on the musings of this blog? In the original version of Romeo and Juliet, Rosaline is a silent, almost invisible character - she has no voice, neither literally nor figuratively. She is only discussed by Romeo and Benvolio, spoken of as an object of Romeo’s unrequited love. Though her presence is mostly implied rather than actively depicted, her impact on Romeo is significant, setting the stage for his passionate and impulsive relationship with Juliet. Rosaline personifies the obedient, protective oldest daughter (and, indirectly, older sister) archetype once Juliet’s role in the overarching story is established, and especially once she becomes the object of Romeo’s slippery affections. Yet in Solomons’ retelling, it is profoundly significant that Rosaline is suddenly brought to the forefront, becoming the heroine of the story. We know she’s young, but we’re not sure how young. What’s more, Romeo eventually finds a new femme on which to prey - Rosaline’s younger cousin, Juliet. Readers likely assume that Romeo is Rosaline and Juliet’s peer - or is he? I’ll let you do the math, but when it comes to Rosaline’s willingness to engage with Romeo and her lengthy process of coming to terms with his character, can we really chalk this up to age? Desperation? Daddy issues? In my opinion, not quite. It’s about the deeply ingrained female urge to please, to be cherished, to be seen as valuable. These are attributes that are supposed to be credits to our nature, but are actually fatal flaws in our training, shaping our expectations of love and validation. Perhaps it comes down to growing up in a loving, supportive family that showers you with attention as the cherished only daughter, offering every opportunity. Yet, despite all this love, there’s still a hunger for something more - sexual validation, a love that parents and siblings can’t fulfill. Or maybe it’s the case of being popular among friends, well-established within peer groups, admired for your accomplishments, and yet the opposite sex seems repelled by your intelligence and self-assurance, even though you tick every other societal box. For the young woman who seemingly has it all, there’s still that moment, staring at her reflection in the mirror, wondering why she hasn’t been chosen, why she hasn't yet captured the attention of the male gaze. In her quiet moments, she curls up in bed, opens her next historical fiction novel, and escapes into a world where a strong, well-rounded female character, who also has everything except the elusive star-crossed lover, finds herself the object of a powerful, mysterious man’s fleeting attention. The kind of Romeo who, like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, sweeps into her life at a grand event, bringing with him the promise of passion and intrigue, no matter how fleeting. It's a seductive fantasy - a world where love, power, and desire are in cahoots to appear aligned.
Regardless of your willingness to entertain the themes I’ve discussed and argued for or against, Fair Rosaline weaves a compelling narrative that breathes life into a previously-unseen figure, who morphs into a fully realized heroine who refuses to accept her fate, and successfully orchestrates her escape from villainous Romeo. Rosaline’s story serves as a stark contrast between how women were portrayed in Shakespeare’s original play and how they can be reimagined with agency, depth, and voice in a modern context. Essentially, Rosaline walked so Juliet could run… thankfully, Solomons’ novel protects Juliet given Rosaline’s experiences, and the two are able to vanquish (or, shall I say, outrun) their Romeo. Fair Rosaline serves as a powerful commentary on reclaiming women's stories that were once silenced or overlooked.
