The Book Nerd’s Guide to Uncomfortable Fictional Crushes

Welcome to the Book Nerd’s Guide to Life! Every other week, we convene in this safe place to discuss the unique challenges of life for people whose noses are always wedged in books. For past guides, click here.
At what point in a relationship is it appropriate to divulge your strangest fictional crush? Let’s not waste time denying it: we’ve all got one or two characters who should not ignite our deepest desires, but do. The ones you’ve told no one about because when all of your friends chose sides between Team Peeta and Team Gale, you had to absent yourself from the conversation, because neither could hold a candle to your flame for the unconventionally suave Beetee.
I, for one, disclosed my undying attraction to the thieving fox in Disney’s Robin Hood on the first date with my current significant other. A year and several disclosures about his infatuation with Lola Bunny later, we’re still going strong. In between then and now, we’ve had several tit-for-tat exchanges on who had the bigger hots for their Potter character of choice:me, Sirius Black, and him, Bellatrix Lestrange.
Given how their paths intertwine, this was a hurdle we had to overcome. I have forgiven him for loving a character who killed the one I love, and he has forgiven me for absolutely nothing because Sirius Black is perfect.
As it turns out, the characters who send our hearts pitter-pattering didn’t necessarily align with the qualities of our ideal partner. I can’t play basketball like Lola Bunny, nor am I intensely devoted to a noseless dictator, like Bellatrix. I’ve never once seen him wear a feather in his cap or rock a velvet sport coat. Love means having to admit your own deficiencies.
While I never thought he’d go running into that good night when I revealed I think Beric Dondarrion is the dreamiest character in A Song of Ice and Fire, it’s still an odd discussion. When you admit you have a crush on Hermione Granger (which, really, we all should), there’s not much explaining to do. When you say you’ve always had deeper feelings toward Mrs. Hudson, people want to run diagnostics on your system.
That dubious reaction, however, shouldn’t force us to shy away from admitting and examining the oddest of our fictional attractions. If much of fiction’s appeal is the avenue it provides for escape, why wouldn’t it follow that our romantic yens find unconventional ways of expressing themselves? If nobody’s telling me I have to think Jamie Lannister’s a babe, I’m going to gravitate toward the characters who aren’t quite so absorbed in themselves or their family trees.
We shouldn’t shame someone who, as a kid, wanted to marry Amelia Bedelia. On the contrary, that child was wiser than every one of us who didn’t realize Amelia was a catch. Sure, she thinks differently than the rest of her world, but the woman’s a visionary. Did you see the way she dressed that chicken? The painstaking intricacy with which she trimmed the fat on the steak with lace? That masterful sketch of the drapery? She could sell that dusted furniture to a contemporary art museum and live comfortably for the rest of her days.
My point here is that whether you think a literal fox is a fox, or you’ve written erotic fan fiction about minor, two-line characters, or you’re in love with the worst maid in children’s fiction, it’s all good. What’s not okay is hiding this from your loved ones, supposedly shielding them from your depravities. If they can’t handle you at your most Bedelia, they don’t deserve you at your most Amelia.