Why Sophie Baek of ‘Bridgerton’ could lead a sexual revolution

When I watched the scene, it definitely stood out to me. Mainly because the Bridgerton women—meaning the members of the show’s eponymous family—are woefully uneducated when it comes to anything to do with sexuality (will Francesca ever reach a pinnacle?). But with Sophie, we have a woman not only feeling urges, but actually giving into those urges, and doing something about it. To me it was revolutionary within the Bridgerton universe in that an unmarried woman knew what to do with her body. This probably has to do with the fact that Sophie is a maid, and as we’ve previously seen on the show, maids actually know a thing or two about sex and reproduction.

As a romance reader, seeing a woman—Asian or otherwise—take control of her own pleasure is par for the course. A woman enjoying sex is normalized in the genre. As it should be, because it is normal. It’s normal to have desires, to want to touch and be touched.

When Bridgerton premiered on Netflix on Christmas in 2020, the world was shocked by the explicit sex scenes in the middle of a Regency-era romance—which is based on the historical romance series of the same name by Julia Quinn. Surely, people in the 1800s weren’t that horny? While some folks continued to gasp with each new season of the show, those of us who read romance novels on the regular just smirked and thought, “You have no idea.”

Welcome to the world of romance

That’s because romances tend to not shy away from this type of intimacy. Call it smut, call it spice, or whatever you want, sex in literature is nothing new, and romance isn’t the only genre that features explicit scenes. But what sets these stories apart is that with them historically being written by women, for women, the sex prioritizes female pleasure. Obviously, there are all sorts of romances, some with explicit sex on the page, others with no sex at all. But one of the things they have in common (besides the required happily ever after) is that the focus is on female desire, and happiness (of course, I’m talking about just the stories that feature female main characters here).

Perhaps this is why for decades, people (read: men) have dismissed romance as a literary genre. Historically, almost anything with a female focus has been seen as silly, frivolous, easy, and not worth taking seriously. But romance is worth taking seriously, especially when you look at the genre’s net worth. Romance is the most successful literary genre on the shelf. And it’s not even close. According to Writer’s Digest, romance has consistently been the highest-grossing fiction genre in literature, making $1.4 billion (yes, billion with a B) in revenue for May 2022-23 (nearly twice the next bestselling genres), with a 52 percent growth in sales in the same period compared to the year prior.

But reading is a relatively solitary activity. What goes on between your pages is your business—even when reading in a public space. Sure, someone might discern what type of book you’re reading based on the cover, but unless they’ve actually read the book in question, they don’t really know.

Opening up the conversation

Now, as more books are getting adapted for the screen, consuming these stories has become more of a shared experience, and on a much larger scale than, say, a book club.

And to have some of the most popular screen adaptations featuring Asian diasporic characters is nothing short of exciting for an Asian American bookworm who has been a fan of the genre for decades. Because just as romance has historically been written by women, for women, mainstream romance has also been historically, very white—and very straight. It’s only been in recent years that the genre has become more noticeably diverse in terms of race, as well as when it comes to LGBTQ+ representation.

Since Asians have arrived in the United States centuries ago, Asian women have been hypersexualized and fetishized, while Asian men have rarely been portrayed as viable romantic partners. So it’s a beautiful thing to see us not only love and be loved, but also to have agency over our own sexuality.

Hopefully, seeing people of all backgrounds find love and pleasure—whether they’re an Asian woman who meets a bisexual white guy and ends up at a cottage with him, where they fall in love, or an Asian man who meets a bisexual white guy and ends up at a cottage with him, where they fall in love—will lead us as a society to talk more openly about sex. Because if we do, then maybe we can talk openly about more important topics such as safe sex and consent (and yes, I acknowledge Bridgerton has had its issues with this—I’m looking at you Daphne Bridgerton!).

And if it takes one sexually frustrated Korean British maid who knows her worth to pave the way, then Sophie, lead the way!