Bridgerton: The only thing better than a handsome Duke is a feminist one 21/01/21

 As an English Literature student with a particular affinity for the romantic period, in particular the likes of Elizabeth Barret Browning and Jane Austen, surely then it will come as a surprise to no one to learn that I, much millions of other Netflix users, have recently become obsessed with the newest Shondaland production: ‘Bridgerton’.

The Regency Era period drama depicts families of London’s high society during courting season, in which debutante Daphne Bridgerton (Phoebe Dynevor) becomes acquainted with the Duke of Hastings (Regé-Jean Page) in a relationship that blossoms from rouse to romance, leaving viewers dreaming of Dukes of their own and resenting the fact that the only 'burn'ing anyone is doing for them is of their toast in a morning.

Gracing our screens we’re witness to lavish ball gowns (of which there are almost too many to count), witty scene prolepsis, and enthralling encounters between characters remarkably pleasing to the eye. Narrated by Lady Whistledown (voiced by Julia Roberts), it’s hard to tell whether she provides us with a moral judgement of the goings-on of a fantastical 18th century ton, or if she’s merely offering an observation of the various scandals and soirees of this Austen-tacious society for our much appreciated entertainment.  

The questionable morality of the show, whilst boasting feminist narratives, a diverse cast and even the beginnings of an understanding of homosexuality in the regency period, has sparked controversy particularly in episode 6, in which we witness Daphne undeniably sexually assault the Duke by switching position whilst they’re having sex, so he’s forced to ejaculate inside of her, as she wants to become pregnant. Perhaps one of the reasons why this is so shocking is because not only is the duke represented as a stereotypical masculine archetype: a high status man with a notorious reputation as a 'rake', and a meticulously toned physique acquired through boxing, but it can almost be read as an exploitation on Daphne's part of the emphasis the Duke has placed on explicitly female sexual pleasure throughout their various sex scenes. 

If the mere sight of such a gorgeous Duke wasn't enough to make me fall off of my chair, seeing him encourage Daphne's sexual awakening and endorsing her own sexual agency in advising her on how she can pleasure herself almost did it. Or maybe the tipping point was his refusal of her dowry, describing it as a 'disgusting custom', or the fact that he doesn't try to conceal that it was Daphne who saved herself from Berbrooke's advances rather than portraying himself as the hero. As it transpires, the only thing better than a handsome Duke is a feminist one...what was that about 'the art of the swoon'? 

In articles around this particular episode, the producers of Bridgeton have been criticised for not overtly portraying it as a ‘rape scene’  when other shows depicting this era have done so in similar instances. This is perhaps especially prevalent given our constantly evolving understanding around issues like consent and gender equality, leading to more awareness (tragically) of men also being victims of sexual abuse and violation. Hence the onslaught of criticism towards the show’s production team for apparently dismissing this scene and continually portraying a repressed Duke. 

The first argument I would put to this is that the very point of the Duke as a character is that he, as far as I can understand, is intended to represent male emotional repression in this time period. Perhaps more so than any other men in the series, his stutter being a metaphor for said stifled emotions. Furthermore, much like the character of Lady Whistledown, surely it is not the job of the show’s producers to make the audience’s decisions and judgements for them, but to present the situation as morally subjective in order to create such controversy. Given the extensive material I’ve read around this one episode in particular, I’d say they absolutely nailed that. 

Additionally, the same article linked above suggests that “Simon (the Duke) seems totally fine afterward” which is just simply not true; In a later episode when the newlyweds are about to move from the stairs into the bedroom, it seems very apparent from the Duke’s refusal to go any further than performing oral sex, that he feels he can no longer trust Daphne. This obviously broken trust between the two central characters is even articulated through Daphne’s question “why will you not unfold yourself to me?” In a scene which is both heartbreaking, due to the incredible on-screen chemistry of Regé and Phoebe, and understandable on the Duke’s part. Thus not only does the Duke embody male emotional repression of his own childhood trauma, but also of his sexual desire for his wife, which the show executes excellently in my opinion. Furthermore, through the careful wording of Daphne’s plea, we also simultaneously see the sexual desire she has for him, as well as a desperation for him to ‘unfold’ himself to her emotionally. 

On the other hand, whilst two wrongs don’t make a right, certainly I would argue that there is a definite question of assumed consent from the Duke’s point of view. In fact Daphne brings it up when she’s accusing him of betraying her, emphasising the significant difference between ‘cannot’ and ‘will not’ ('sire an heir'). So technically, this whole time they’ve been having sex, Daphne thought there was no chance she could get pregnant because the Duke was barren, although that wasn’t the case and therefore he had all the sexual power by ‘pulling out’ (quite dramatically, practically launching himself across the room, so great is his aversion to impregnating his wife) only at his own discretion. Adversely, he does tell her in the aftermath of this incident that he assumed she knew how babies are made, which is probably true, in fact in episode 3 he even laughs surprisedly “at the absurdity of how little mothers tell their daughters”. 

Arguably, even despite the Duke's assumption (which in itself carries a whole host of issues around communication and sex education), his relatively vague expressions around the topic of his own fertility become also a breach of Daphne’s consent. These days we might equate it with a man removing the condom without telling the woman he's having sex with, thus exposing her to a higher risk of pregnancy. Even though Daphne would have been happy to be pregnant, the fact is that it would have come as a surprise which she didn’t necessarily explicitly give her consent to. In fact, symbolically it is the very undermining of this choice which characterises the role of woman in the period. Again, absolutely nailed that one Shondaland. 

Certainly what Daphne does in this episode isn’t right, or even excusable. However, we’re made aware that even Daphne herself realises the questionable morality of her actions, but does so in relation to the limitations imposed on a woman’s agency and free will, particularly during the 18th century. It really throws getting aired on dating apps into perspective when you see how little say women had on the man with whom they were meant to spend the rest of their lives, and the way in which they're paraded around balls wearing 'dance cards' on which men can scribe their possession over them for a dance. We may not be romantically swept off our feet at a ball, but at least we get to decide which way we swipe. 

In Lady Whistledown’s narration at the close of this episode she says ‘Desperate times may call for desperate measures, but I would wager many will think her actions beyond the pale. Perhaps she thought it her only option, or perhaps she knows no shame. But I ask you, can the ends ever justify such wretched means?’. This harrowing speculation is cleverly juxtaposed with Marina’s exploitation of Colin in order to secure a safe position in society given her socially unacceptable pregnancy, and one can’t help but feel a degree of sympathy for Marina and Daphne, both of whom are both so clearly desperate to be in control of their own lives, and yet unable to be so because of the bodies they were born into. 

So to summarise, basically, it all comes down to power and and communication (doesn't it always?). Daphne and the Duke should have communicated better without just making assumptions about the other (as they both do) and I would argue that the lesson the audience can take away is that sexual relations should be conducted with equal consideration for both parties (or all, maybe you’re more a fan of the orgies Benedict attends at the artist’s house, no judgement) so as to avoid any misunderstandings. Hence why the Duke’s bravery in exposing his vulnerabilities in the final episode results not only in better sex for them both, but a better understanding of one another. 

One last thing however, whilst I understand that it is fitting with the genre and don’t get me wrong, ya gal loves a romance, I think it’s important to recognise that, as the show suggests, had he not made the vow to his father, the Duke would have wanted to have children, in line with the internalised expectations of members of this society that young people must marry and start families of their own. Otherwise the decision becomes completely Daphne’s and the Duke is in a sense trapped into fatherhood just to appease his wife. In a truly sickening and disgusting way then, their child really is a sort of culmination of their love for one another, ‘a blessing’ as Daphne calls him. Simultaneously representing love without compromise, female agency and the acknowledgement that allowing yourself to be loved is not emasculating but rather empowering. A message I think we can all benefit from.