Bridgerton: Why the Show is Better than the Book
We all got sucked into Bridgerton during the pandemic —full orchestra versions of popular music, the most dazzling gowns, and a plot full of scandal that also throws heavy shade at the patriarchal society.
Expect none of this from the first installment of the novels, which is about as bland as beans on toast. There’s a reason why no one had heard of Bridgerton until the show came out, and it’s not because of Julie Andrew’s voiceover or Regé-Jean Page’s ass. Even without classical renditions of “Material Girl” and “How Deep Is Your Love,” the novels lack the proper suspense to turn pages and they fail to protest patriarchal society on behalf of the readers — at least the first novel does, I have no desire to put myself through a subsequent installment.
But let’s get into it. Here’s why the books can’t compete with the show.
1. The Duke and I is written in limited omniscient point of view.
I suspect this is because novels set in similar settings of courting England by a certain Austen are also written in limited omniscient. (If you don’t know, this is when the reader has access to multiple characters’ thoughts at the same time.) But when your goal is to write a true romance rather than humorous social commentary, maybe don’t dispel the only tension you have going for you by letting the reader know what’s in the other person’s head.
A romance is suspenseful because you don’t know what the other person is thinking, and part of the experience is learning about the romantic interest alongside the protagonist. However, Quinn often jumps between Daphne and Simon’s perspectives in a single scene. And not only is this dizzying as a reader trying to get through tagless dialogue, it’s boring.
In the show, even though we get some of Simon’s perspective, we also don’t know if the two will really end up together. We don’t know exactly what Simon is thinking. We don’t know why he shows up drunk to Promenade. We don’t know why he doesn’t want to marry Daphne. And even though we get the same bits of Simon’s backstory, they come later in the show than in the books.
2. The show does a better job at creating tension.
In the show, we see Daphne come out into society and we are told that her success will determine the entire future of their family. She’s declared the diamond by the Queen of England, but Anthony takes an active roll in thwarting any matchmaking and we see her status tank until no one except Nigel Burbrooke is interested.
In the novels, however, Daphne is on her third season already, and her family is no worse off because of it. There is no active hierarchy since the Queen isn’t a character, and her brothers are large and generally intimidating, but they do nothing specific to any potential suitors. (Show, don’t tell — amirite?) Oh, and Daphne knocking out Nigel Burbrooke happens at the first ball, before the audience can really appreciate just how unsavory a match with him would be. In the novels, he’s merely portrayed as over-eager, and Daphne good-naturedly feels sorry for him after he tries to rape her. (More on this later.)
The show also handles the conflict between Simon and Daphne better because they create immediate stakes — Simon declares that if Daphne is pregnant then he will stick around and they will be miserable together and if she is not pregnant they will live separately.
Get Sim Sawyers’s stories in your inbox
Join Medium for free to get updates from this writer.
We get a glimpse into the life Daphne may lead if she doesn’t fix her relationship with Simon when she joins Lady Danbury’s gambling den and mingles with the other married women. We also have the last ball as a tension builder, because Simon and Daphne will be going their separate ways if they don’t make up at the ball.
In The Duke and I, Daphne and Simon live apart indefinitely with no imposed deadlines, and this situation does nothing to turn pages.
The novel also lacks a frantic Marina checking her sheets for blood, no mention of the Featheringtons going under, and no emphasis on Whistledown and the sway she has on the ton. Quotes from her society papers are posted at the beginning of every chapter, but they have no real effect on the course of the book. There’s no real pressure to keep things out of Whistledown and no real social backlash for anything she prints.
3. The novels are surprisingly okay with the patriarchy.
Whereas the show has Eloise practically heading up a Women’s Rights group and busting down university doors, The Duke and I mentions Eloise in the context of Simon not being able to tell her apart from Francesca. In the series, the Featheringtons continually fail to thrive under male leadership and then struggle to exist as a family without a male head because of inheritance laws, but their struggles are left out of the books.
Then there’s the line, “Legally, I own you” said by Simon to Daphne right after he threatens to break down her door when she doesn’t want to come to bed with him. There’s no pushback, either from Daphne or in the presentation. It’s just there, as a part of this so-called romance, as if he hadn’t said anything atrocious. And while it’s fine to include this type of sentiments when writing a period piece, it’s unrealistic to gloss over what it was like for women who were legally owned by their husbands. Lady Danbury’s marriage in the Queen Charlotte spin off does a great job of this.
4. Penelope’s Choice
The best invention of the show is this wonderful triangle between Marina, Colin, and Penelope that works in so many ways. You have a ticking time bomb of tension with a pregnant Marina who is taking a huge gamble to pursue Colin instead of some gross old guy who’s willing to marry her. This risky decision highlights how vulnerable women are in this time— have sex one time and you may have to marry someone who’s old enough to be your grandfather.
Colin and Marina’s romance is sweet and innocent on the surface but also built on societal issues and treachery. We get to really fall in love with Colin’s character as he falls for Marina and is the only guy on this show to say “no” to sex when offered. A chaste suitor if there ever was one.
But buckle up, now Penelope has her first chance to really change lives with Whistledown, and she weighs Marina being thrown out of society with Colin being led to believe that Marina’s child is his, not to mention she loves Colin as well. As viewers, we aren’t sure if Penelope acts out of true friendship or if she saw outing Marina’s pregnancy as an easy opportunity to sabotage his relationship and keep him single for herself.
Bridgerton is a great example of how editing makes or breaks a story. The book and the show features the same plot and the same characters in the same setting with practically the same dialogue, but upping the stakes makes all the difference between becoming a cultural phenomenon and publishing a book that goes unheard of.
Sim Sawyers is a fiction editor living in Amsterdam. If you’d like to work with her, please email simsawyersediting@gmail.com for inquiries.
