A couple of days ago, I was compiling a booklist of epic love/romance stories for the library website. Poking around the Internet for examples beyond Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy inspired some associative thinking about memorable literary couples and amazing chemistry in other genres.

The chemistry between two characters isn’t easy to define, but we know when it’s missing. Many describe it as a spark, the interaction between two or more people that makes them feel alive on the page. I see it as awareness–physical, mental, emotional, from the beginning to the end of the book; everything else is generated from there.

I don’t think it’s difficult to create chemistry, particularly in romance fiction. There are countless books with believable, sizzling, subtle, subconscious bonds and ties between the protagonists, and just as many ways to evoke it. The chemistry in movies–or lack thereof–is a more fascinating subject since it is often hit-or-miss. The story could be great, the dialogue well-written, the actors skilled in their trade, but the movie still might not work on the chemistry level. It seems to me that it’s coming from the actors themselves. More puzzling still is the fact that the same actors sometimes can bring it up on the screen, other times not.

There are literary couples who would be expected on such a list: the already mentioned Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy, unavoidable Jane Eyre and Mr. Rochester and, of course, Catherine and Heahtcliff (it’s rather a dark chemistry between the latest two; as much as I love the novel, it’s hardly a love story. It rather an anti-love story, in fact: love shouldn’t be obsessive, destructive and utterly selfish as their was).

I checked many similar online lists, and on all of them I found Anna Karenina, so I yielded and put it in my list, even though it is not a love story and even less a romance. The chemistry in it is irrelevant, which is how it should be since the novel focuses on the moral aspects and catastrophic consequences of the socially ostracized relationship between Anna and Vronsky, not their love story itself.

Here are some other highlights: one of my most beloved novels, Dracula by Bram Stoker (which has one of the greatest and truly immortal quote, “I’ve crossed oceans of time to find you.” Gary Oldman once said that it was worth playing the role just to say that line).

Some historical romances I’ve read more than once, like The Bridgertons novels by Julia Quinn, and the my tree top Maiden Line books by Elizabeth Hoyt: Wicked Intentions, The Duke of Midnight (a sort of the eighteenth century London Batman story 🦇), and The Duke of Sin, featuring the most colorful, controversial and irresistible male lead in contemporary written historical fiction–the intelligent, cunning, scheming and lovable Valentine Napier, the Duke of Montgomery.

Brokeback Mountain by Annie Proulx. I only read the book, never saw the movie. I remember reading it one afternoon during my break, and being unable to utter a word for the rest of the day. Even today, after so many years, when I think about it, gaping sadness washes over me.

The Scottish Prisoner by Diana Gabaldon: the infinitive, eternal, hopeless love between Lord John and Jamie Frasier, the man who can’t return John’s feelings, and yet he couldn’t ignore them, always takes my breath away. Lord John’s unflinching loyalty and love despite of the impossibility of its realization, his determination to help anyone close to Jamie no matter the risk; Jamie’s gradual acceptance of John’s nature, his growing respect and understanding– this is one of the greatest, selfless and purest one-side love stories written in contemporary popular fiction.

A great example of friendship chemistry is the Temeraire series by Naomi Novik: a stunning, emotional and believable story of Captain William Lawrence and his dragon.

Here is my No. 1 mystery fiction duo — Hercule Poirot and Captain Hastings – no need to elaborate on this easygoing, genuine and enduring friendships based on not similarities but differences. I read all the Hercule Poirot novels more than once or twice, and I can’t count how many times I watched the BBC series, Poirot, with David Suchet (except the last Poirot book and the last episode, which I never ever will read or watch). Capt. Hastings doesn’t feature in all of them, but the stories I love the most are those with him in them beside Poirot. The friendship chemistry between them is absolutely adorable. It must be chemistry—nothing else written by A. Christie has the same appeal to me.

And finally, there is another type of chemistry, perhaps the most important of all — the one between the book and the readers. Not unlike love chemistry, it’s undeniable yet slippery to explain, but if I was pressed to try, I would say it’s good storytelling (and it includes the ability to create chemistry between characters). It is not an universal experience, however, but a very intimate perception. This is, for example, the reason why I love Twilight and New Moon. To me, Stephanie Meyers is a great storyteller (and many other readers will disagree). In any case, it’s topic too broad to tackle it in a blog post.

What is chemistry to you? What are your favourite couples? Any universally loved couple that you don’t care about? What about friendship chemistry?

Let me know what you think. I love reading comments. They often reveal such interesting views and opinions.