Long before I read Romance, the “alpha male,” was something I associated more with pack animals than human men. So you would think that reading the genre that has an enduring love affair with the alpha hero would sharpen my understanding of the human variety. Surprisingly, though, it has not. In fact, I would say that I am now even more confused about who the alpha hero is and how he differs from the beta or even gamma guy. For a species of character that seems so ubiquitous in the genre, he remains frustratingly elusive to me.
Oh, I have lists of authors and books that the alpha supposedly inhabits, from Linda Howard and Anne Stuart to Suzanne Brockmann and every Harlequin Presents author. I know he’s supposed to be strong; I know he’s supposed to be powerful and protective and ready to defend women and children. But what Romance hero who didn’t have these qualities would be deemed “heroic” in genre terms?
What if I take my cues from the books that feature these alleged alphas? I get everything from a jaded and emotionally bottomed out assassin (Bastien from Stuart’s Black Ice) to a bully-and-force-her-for-her-own-good duke (Claymore from Anna Campbell’s Claiming the Courtesan). I get quasi-Neanderthal cops (pick a Linda Howard hero, almost any Linda Howard hero). Then I get these guys like Roarke, from JD Robb’s In Death series, who are titans of industry and can be very controlling and domineering, but who also worship at the feet of their women. In Roarke’s case, he often appears more the wife, especially as he makes time for the workaholic Eve, feeding her, getting her to relax, tempting her with coffee and food and accompanying her on cases. And at the very end of that spectrum are heroes like some of those in Lori Foster’s books, who embody an almost hermaphroditic quality, as they virtually ooze testosterone while cooking for the heroine, drawing her a bath, pushing for commitment and saying “I love you” first. Domestic gods, I imagine they might be called.
So who is the alpha and where can I find the paradigmatic example of his type?
According to Suzanne Brockmann,
…a true leader (ie true Alpha) can fight the battle, nurse the wounded, cook dinner for the troops and wash up afterwards. He can negotiate peace treaties as well as go to war… alpha males [are] strong, tough, stubborn and complicated in ways that mystify the more logical female brain.
Harlequin Presents author Kate Walker insists that
He has to be successful- a man of achievement. Independent. A ruler – a man of power. Strong, handsome, vigorous. A leader. In human societies, the signs of success are wealth and power – and so the Alpha hero has to have the outward trappings – those visible signs of success that the world values – money, houses, cars, businesses . . .
She goes on to quote Jayne Anne Krentz’s definition, as well:
These males are the tough, hard-edged, tormented heroes that are at the heart of the vast majority of bestselling romance novels . . . They are the heroes who carry off the heroines in historical romances. These are the heroes feminist critics despise. [Robin’s note: feminist critics get as frustrated as Romance readers at being inaccurately and negatively stereotyped]
And Amy Wilkins, of the I Heart Presents blog, says that as an author she likes to imagine the alpha hero at home, because of “the insight it can give into a person’s true character.” From the reader’s perspective, she offers, “I don’t think I’ll ever tire of scenes in which a hero’s home reveals something that alters the heroine’s perception of him, makes her realise he has a heart, makes her wish she had the key…”
So…the alpha hero is successful, tough, handsome, powerful, domestically adept, sexy – what else? But what about the working cops in Linda Howard’s books? Hasn’t Shannon McKenna written some heroes who are closer to blue collar than white? Mick Tremore, from Judith Ivory’s The Proposition, fits a lot of these characteristics, although he’s decidedly working class and, well, definitely not tormented (how could a man who loves his ferret so devotedly be tortured?). And Ransom from Laura Kinsale’s Midsummer Moon is incredibly commanding and controlling, but he’s absolutely, knock-kneed terrified of heights. Does that exclude him as alpha material?
As many note, the concept of the alpha is derived from the natural sciences, especially study of wolf packs: he’s the head wolf, the one who keeps the pack in line and in safety, keeps them fed and secure, and has his pick of the female wolves for mating. And yet, as David Mech notes, the concept of the alpha male may not even be scientifically sound. Mech, whose own research helped popularize the term, indicates that in the vast majority of wolf packs, a male becomes a leader by breeding with a female and creating the pack through their offspring. Mech points out that alpha is more appropriate when used to describe an uncommon, “artificial pack” of unrelated wolves who might form a “pecking order” through competition, something that meshes more directly with the artificial world of the Romance novel.
Quite honestly, I sometimes believe that the beta hero is Romance code for nice guy or well-adjusted guy, while alpha is code for anything from rapist to dark-hearted to bully with a cause (i.e. the heroine’s safety and happiness, or the fated mate syndrome). He seems to be associated with a guarantee of masculinity, a psychological and physical hardness to contrast with the heroine’s feminine softness. And there often seems to be an unfinished quality about the heroes who superficially fit in the alpha category, a deficiency that must be cured or healed by love.
Still, all of this seems somewhat general, especially in a genre that celebrates love as a healing and redeeming force, and that has a tendency to idealize masculinity and femininity in ways that encompass the fully reactionary to the rebelliously progressive, often within the same book. What Romance hero isn’t in need of something? And if the primary characteristic of the alpha is strength, than do we limit that to the physical? What about the suffering component — is it the guys who suffer terribly who we want to hold up as leaders?
So you tell me: who’s your perfect specimen of the alpha hero and what makes him so? How can we best distinguish his type from other types of heroes in the genre?
No related posts.
Love the true Alpha Male, but, really, they’re crawling all over the place and I’m sick of them. This girl likes a little variety. Plus, I’m into Science Fiction Romance. I don’t know about you, but if my spaceship is spinning out of control in some D-Class planet’s atmosphere I don’t want a freakin’ neanderthal in my engine room!
I want Geordi.
I don’t like labels (and reading your examples, it would appear there’s a huge range of what makes an alpha, so one reader might not think the hero in Book A is alpha at all.)
I like the layered hero. Roarke, most definitely. I want them able to know when to turn up the heat and I want to see a little marshmallow fluff inside as well.
At least I like them well enough to write them, and I haven’t had any complaints.
The romance alpha is VERY different from real life alphas. I’m an alpha female married to an alpha male (and most of my closest buds are alphas ’cause contrary to popular belief we LIKE to hang together) and I had to learn what a romance alpha was to write romance.
For example: Real life alphas are natural leaders (and yes, most alphas are alphas from birth, I’m mentoring a 9 yr old alpha right now). Leading means communicating well. Yet romance alphas are moody loners with serious communication problems. WTH? How does THAT work?
A great book on real life alphas written by one of our own is Christopher V. Flett’s What Men Don’t Tell Women About Business – Opening Up The Heavily Guarded Alpha Male Playbook.
I DO love the romance alpha (I LOVE the Beast stories) but they shouldn’t be mixed up with the real thing. Sometimes I wish they were given another name.
I’m not overly-drawn to the alpha hero, but I wonder if there doesn’t have to be something larger-than-real-life about them to keep them from seeming too realistically brutish. If we don’t really think we’ll ever encounter them in real life, then it’s safe (and fun!) to imagine we could be the one to awaken the alpha hero to a more complete emotional life.
Does this also explain the prevalence of werewolves and vampires qua hero recently? As we rationally know they don’t exist (and I apologize to anyone who believes to the contrary), they are safe to imagine as romantic hero.
By contrast, I re-read Glenda Sanders’ A Human Touch recently. Her hero is a rather pushy, obnoxious lawyer who grudgingly agrees to represent the heroine in a child support case. Because obnoxious lawyers are not uncommon (present company excepted, of course), Kyle seemed almost unpleasant at times. Watching him soften and open to love was nice — but might it have been nicer if he’d been larger-than-life and thus not reminiscent of actual lawyers? You might want a bulldog representing you in court, but it may seem too skeevy to have him fall in love with you…
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This post was mentioned on Twitter by eromance: In Search of the Alpha Hero http://bit.ly/4ErpVO…
I don’t know if I agree with most of the Alpha requirements listed.
For me, it’s much simpler. An alpha is someone to whom other men naturally defer.
It could be physical strength, strength of character, intellect, expertise… But for me, it simply means other MEN recognize the appropriateness of this particular man’s ability to lead.
Sure there are certain characteristics that tend to describe those types of personalities, but they do not always apply.
For me, it’s someone who is confident and a bit arrogant. Who expects others to follow his lead and does not naturally submit to following the lead of others.
Amber, I like this definition–that’s my perception, too.
Amber, I whole heartily agree with you. All things considered, the alhpa male is the one in which all other men defer. Love that!
I like to read (and write) all different types of men – I demand an extensive variety to choose from when the mood hits.
G.
As much as I would like to take credit for the thoughtful post about alpha hero’s home, the post was actually written by Harlequin Presents author Sabrina Philips.
~Amy
Thank you for your clarification, Amy, and I’m sorry I goofed the authorial credit.
I always find the Jayne Anne Krentz description of alphas amusing because she has said she writes them, yet most of her heroes seem to me to be such nice, well-adjusted guys.
Great post. I write military romance, but not suspense, and to me, the perfect alpha male is my master sergeant. He’s strong on the battlefield, he’s a loving dad at home. He’s able to balance mission accomplishment with the needs of the person.
Being the alpha male is being able to take charge when the mission dictates and letting others lead when you can to grow them into future leaders. In romance, it means if there is a new situation for the heroine, the alpha male will provide guidance at first but then trust her to make the right choice
I’m drawn to characters who excel, so naturally I tend to write them – and I’ve written a few alpha men (natural leaders.) But to me, being an alpha is not inconsistent with a tender, caring side, so I don’t see a problem. Thuggish, overly macho males aren’t alphas to me – they’re just arseholes.
I’ve heard Anne Stuart’s heroes referred to as ‘gamma’. Morally ambiguous men who only promise to do well by their heroine, and the rest of the word can go to hell.
Alpha – the word has been stretched and used and appropriated so much that I’m not surprised you don’t quite know what alpha is. I’ve had many arguments with people about what qualities define alpha, and my understanding of the term vastly differs from theirs. (I was right, of course *wink*)
As for betas, I see them as the good guys. The _normal_ good guys. The alpha will wreck your house while defending you from the bad guy. Then chase him into the dark and make sure he’s suitably punished. The beta will stick around, help clean it up, and nurse any wounds you sustained.
IMHO, that is.