Romance And Rights

Romance and Rights: The Politics of Interracial Intimacy, 1945–1954 studies the meaning of interracial romance, love, and sex in the ten years after World War II. How was interracial romance treated in popular culture by civil rights leaders, African American soldiers, and white segregationists? Previous studies focus on the period beginning in 1967 when the Supreme Court overturned the last state anti-miscegenation law (Loving v. Virginia). Lubin's study, however, suggests that we cannot fully understand contemporary debates about “hybridity,” or mixed-race identity, without first comprehending how WWII changed the terrain. The book focuses on the years immediately after the war, when ideologies of race, gender, and sexuality were being reformulated and solidified in both the academy and the public. Lubin shows that interracial romance, particularly between blacks and whites, was a testing ground for both the general American public and the American government. The government wanted interracial relationships to be treated primarily as private affairs to keep attention off contradictions between its outward aura of cultural freedom and the realities of Jim Crow politics and anti-miscegenation laws. Activists, however, wanted interracial intimacy treated as a public act, one that could be used symbolically to promote equal rights and expanded opportunities. These contradictory impulses helped shape our current perceptions about interracial romances and their broader significance in American culture. Romance and Rights ends in 1954, the year of the Brown v. Board of Education decision, before the civil rights movement became well organized. By closely examining postwar popular culture, African American literature, NAACP manuscripts, miscegenation laws, and segregationist protest letters, among other resources, the author analyzes postwar attitudes towards interracial romance, showing how complex and often contradictory those attitudes could be.

Two genders made by nature coexisted comfortably forever, till about a few hundred years ago when men and women started identifying themselves differently. These identities started hardening over time and today they appear to be a different species in many situations... Sometimes laugh-out-loud, at times, deeply poignant, and at other times, provoking and questioning, The End of Romance is a fantastic, one-of-its-kind take on patriarchy and feminism, rights and privileges, abuse and consent, and cultures and laws related to men-women conflicts. Peppered with anecdotes, real-life incidents and everyday stories, the book discusses the natural, cultural and religious influences on the man-woman relationship and how this has evolved over time. The author asks questions few would ever utter: Is our society increasingly becoming anti-men? If so, will this lead to any good? Are gender dynamics always tilted only to benefit one gender? Can we ever achieve equality? These are debated with an analysis of the privileges of women and the abuse of men, a discussion on the prevailing myths, followed by recommendations on how the relationship can be brought back to equal. Unabashed, hilarious, and at times caustic, The End of Romance signals what most of us miss: Oppressive societies do not survive, whoever it may benefit at the moment.

Should the choice to engage in a faculty-student romance be protected or precluded? An argument that the right to choose a romantic partner is a fundamental right of conscience, protected by the U.S Constitution. Allen Ginsberg once declared that “the best teaching is done in bed,” but most university administrators would presumably disagree. Many universities prohibit romantic relationships between faculty members and students, and professors who transgress are usually out of a job. In Romance in the Ivory Tower, Paul Abramson takes aim at university policies that forbid relationships between faculty members and students. He argues provocatively that the issue of faculty-student romances transcends the seemingly trivial matter of who sleeps with whom and engages our fundamental constitutional rights. By what authority, Abramson asks, did the university become the arbiter of romantic etiquette among consenting adults? Do we, as consenting adults, have a constitutional right to make intimate choices as long as they do not cause harm? Abramson contends that we do, and bases this claim on two arguments. He suggests that the Ninth Amendment (which states that the Constitution's enumeration of certain rights should not be construed to deny others) protects the “right to romance.” And, more provocatively, he argues that the “right to romance” is a fundamental right of conscience—as are freedom of speech and freedom of religion. Campus romances happen. The important question is not whether they should be encouraged or prohibited but whether the choice to engage in such a relationship should be protected or precluded. Abramson argues ringingly that our freedom to make choices—to worship, make a political speech, or fall in love—is fundamental. Rules forbidding faculty-student romances are not only unconstitutional but set dangerous precedents for further intrusion into rights of privacy and conscience.

Crossing disciplinary lines, Moran looks in depth at interracial intimacy in America from colonial times to the present. She traces the evolution of bans on intermarriage and explains why blacks and Asians faced harsh penalties while Native Americans and Latinos did not. She provides fresh insight into how these laws served complex purposes, why they remained on the books for so long, and what led to their eventual demise. As Moran demonstrates, the United States Supreme Court could not declare statutes barring intermarriage unconstitutional until the civil rights movement, coupled with the sexual revolution, had transformed prevailing views about race, sex, and marriage.

A Romance of the Republic, published in 1867, was Lydia Maria Child's fourth novel and the capstone of her remarkable literary career. Written shortly after the Civil War, it offered a progressive alternative to Uncle Tom's Cabin. Writer, magazine publisher and outspoken abolititionist, Child defied the norms of gender and class decorum in this novel by promoting interracial marriage as a way blacks and whites could come to view each other with sympathy and understanding. In constructing the tale of fair-skinned Rosa and Flora Royal—daughters of a slaveowner whose mother was also the daughter of a slaveowner—Child consciously attempted to counter two popular claims: that racial intermarriage was "unnatural" and that slavery was a benevolent institution. But Child's target was not merely racism. Her characters are forced both to reconsider their attitudes toward "white" and "black" and to question the very foundation of the patriarchal society in which they live.

We all live a life, which is full of colours. Some are vibrant, while some are dark. Some are white, while some are grey. Life needs all the shades for it's existence. The most vital phases of Romance are infatuation, love, revenge, break up, distress, etc. Everyone of us must have been through either of them once in our lives. Here is a book, authored by 30+ most amazing writers, who have beautifully penned down their write ups, telling about the different pieces of Romance.

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