This is particularly jarring because of the way the show completely glosses over this moment, even going so far as to frame Daphne as the victim of Simon’s denial of her wish to have children. In “Bridgerton,” Daphne’s refusal to let Simon pull out and forcing him to finish while still inside her against his will is equally troubling. This leaves her understandably shaken and upset, especially as she comes to terms with the fact that “stealthing” is in fact sexual assault. In “I May Destroy You,” the protagonist sleeps with a man who pulls off his condom during intercourse.
Having recently watched “I May Destroy You,” the BBC’s critically acclaimed drama about a woman’s life after sexual assault, I was left with many questions about the way Bridgerton handled what was essentially nonconsensual sex. Rather than having an actual conversation with her husband about his perceived deception, Daphne decides to take matters into her own hands. Eventually, Daphne figures out that Simon is pulling out to avoid getting her pregnant and fulfilling her lifelong dream of having children. By telling his new wife - who has not received any sexual education other than whatever he has explained to her - that he cannot have children, he misleads her into thinking he is physically unable to procreate. This complicates his relationship with Daphne. As the audience is made aware early in the season, Simon’s lack of a relationship with his cold father and the death of his mother during childbirth left him traumatized, causing him to vow to his dying father that he would be the end of the family line. The duke has clear qualms about fatherhood from the start of the show. Unfortunately, I simply felt that “Bridgerton” only got away with its sloppy storyline here because of, well, the amount of salacious scenes that distracted us from actual plot development.Ĭommunication is also lacking between the two main characters. Don’t get me wrong - there’s nothing I love more than a good old enemies-to-lovers trope, but it only works when executed smoothly. I was left confused by the jerky progression of their relationship arc, going from mutually antagonistic in one moment to passionate lovers in the next. As far as relationships go, it’s safe to say the one between Daphne and Simon is not the best model for a healthy marriage. Titillating though they were, there is certainly much to be unpacked in the sexual dynamics and relationships in the show, particularly between Daphne and the duke. To me, the biggest thing that sets “Bridgerton” apart from period dramas of old - think “Pride and Prejudice” or “Jane Eyre” - was its sheer quantity of steamy scenes. Set in 1813 London, “Bridgerton” follows the “coming out,” or social debut, of a young aristocrat named Daphne Bridgerton and her rather complicated - and initially unwilling - romance with Simon Bassett, the duke of Hastings, beginning with their deceptive courtship and culminating in a turbulent new marriage.
I began watching the show with my parents, and it only took a few episodes for me to regret making it a family event. Over winter break, as screen time increasingly filled my days, “Bridgerton” appeared on my radar, and I began watching what is perhaps the sauciest period drama to grace Netflix. Jane never writes within the pages of her novel it is crucial to her success that Rochester fall in love with a silent listener, a woman he believes has no story of her own.Contains spoilers for the first season of “Bridgerton.” I argue against a correlation between Jane's acquisition of speech and her development as the writer of her story. Unlike Bertha's terrifying ineptitude, Jane's revenge works because it is controlled, sustained, articulate, and above all disguised. Jane actively and consciously uses Bertha to draw attention away from her own act of revenge. Brontë has not written a conventional marriage plot but rather a revenge novel in which Jane reveals secrets that the blinded Rochester cannot read. Jane's retrospectively informed narration must be seen as working against her naive, romantic plot. This essay argues that Jane Eyre (1847) is an elaborate confidence game in which Rochester takes Jane into his confidence in order to lie to her and that Jane responds by first masquerading as his confidante and then taking the reader into her confidence to lie to her as well.