A Dark Romance or Just Dark (AN EXTREMELY LONG REVIEW)
Warning: This review contains a extremely long explicit content and spoilers for Try Begging, discussing themes of non-consensual relationships and graphic depictions of violence.
If you're not open to hearing criticism, I'd suggest skipping this review. I'm not here to entertain defenses of this story that ignore its fundamental issues after all, what's the point of discussing something with someone unwilling to listen? I also want to clarify that my intention in reviewing this manhwa and the novel is simply for my own satisfaction. It's about sharing my perspective and articulating my thoughts on these narratives. For those interested in an honest critique, let's dive in.
In recent years, dark romance has seen a surge in popularity, inviting readers to explore the more complex, often disturbing facets of love and obsession. However, there's a fine line between presenting gritty, complex relationships and venturing into territory that glorifies or trivializes harm. Try Begging, a novel/manhwa that labels itself as dark romance, exemplifies this challenge in unsettling ways. While it attempts to deliver a story about love gone wrong and the extremes of possessiveness, it ultimately crosses into disturbing territory with graphic portrayals of violence and ab*se, seemingly more focused on shock than on genuine character exploration. In this review, I'll talk about the problematic aspects of Try Begging.
Before diving into specifics, it's important to clarify what constitutes a dark romance. Dark romance often treads into morally ambiguous territories, exploring themes like obsession, betrayal, manipulation, ab*se and psychological trauma. Many works in this genre employ these themes to create complex narratives that challenge readers' comfort zones, ultimately striving to explore the darker sides of love, redemption, and healing. The challenge in dark romance lies in balancing these darker elements with enough psychological depth and character development so readers can still somehow empathize with the characters, understand their growth, or at least see some semblance of progression.
From the start, Try Begging introduces us to a male lead who displays a disturbing level of horniness and possessiveness, controlling the female lead in ways that frequently cross into blatant s*xual ab*se. She is a spy but worked as a maid in his manor, yet his thoughts about her quickly veered into dark, disturbing fantasies. He wasn't merely thinking about wanting her; instead, his mind fixated on graphic scenarios of physically abusing her going so far as to imagine Spoiler
assaulting her with a gun to assert his dominance.
[collapse] While dark romance often explores intense dynamics, the way these fantasies are presented here feels particularly unsettling. These aren't just intense or possessive thoughts; they portray a disturbing fixation on control.
By chapter 24 of the manhwa, she's already gone through a full-blown assault from him, and what initially seemed like it might explore dark, complex emotions has just turned into repetitive scenes of r*pe. Because in the novel around chapter 60, the story appears to abandon any sense of narrative progression, opting instead for a disturbing focus on explicit scenes that serve no real purpose in advancing the plot or characters. By chapter 200, any hope for meaningful development has largely been abandoned, leaving readers with an unsettling spectacle of violence and fetishized control rather than a complex dark romance.
One of the most troubling aspects of Try Begging is its portrayal of the male lead. His actions often described with terms like "animalistic" and "depraved" are at odds with any notion of a redeemable character. Throughout the series, he resorts to extreme measures to assert control, including threats, physical violence, and repeated assaults. The story's insistence on his possessive love as a form of affection is troubling, as it sends a message that such abusive behavior can somehow be excused or even romanticized under the guise of passion.
Here are some of the things he has done to illustrate the points I'm trying to make:
Spoiler
- He puts a candle inside her private part and lit it up and asks her to squirt to off the fire.
- 2. He locked her up and constantly SAs and r*pes her, ultimately treating her like a toy
3. Tries to forcefully imp**gnate her after she repeatedly cried and told him not to and after doing those disgusting things, he plugs her private part to stop the s**en from flowing out. - 4. He had her hanging by a noose while sexually assaulting her so she's choking at the same time then lets her go and she passes out from the hanging which cause her to almost dies then he removes the noose finally slaps her awake and shoves right back in all while she's sucking in air and half conscious
5. He constantly threatens to shoot her while he r*pes her
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Please note that these are just some of the things he has done this is merely the tip of the iceberg. Try Begging really fails to give the male lead any meaningful growth, instead doubling down on his violent tendencies as the primary means of interaction. This lack of character development reduces him to merely a predator, making it nearly impossible for readers to empathize or even comprehend his motivations beyond a superficial, fetishized desire to dominate. He isn't a male lead, a yandere, or a misunderstood character; he is simply an assaulter and a psychopath.
In dark romances they typically attempt to balance dark themes with enough character resilience or depth that readers can connect with the leads. In Try Begging, the female lead is given very little agency or depth. She's subjected to a series of horrific experiences with little chance to process the trauma or respond in a way that feels authentic. The narrative treats her as a vessel for the male lead's aggression, and her suffering becomes a plot device rather than an exploration of her character's inner world. Because she is literally a spy? Isn't she? The story rarely acknowledges the psychological toll that these events would logically have on someone, opting instead to keep her bound to the male lead under flimsy justifications. By downplaying the consequences of trauma, Try Begging trivializes her suffering, ultimately presenting her pain as something secondary to the male lead's "love." There's a scene where he tells her to take care of her own body, to which she responds along the lines, "My body? Was it even mine to begin with?" This exchange comes after she has endured horrific experiences, making it revolting how the narrative reduces her trauma to a point where it's expected for her to forgive him so soon after.
But you might wonder why he acts this way, right? They must have some unresolved issues from their past. In their backstory, they met during childhood, and he developed an attachment to her. She told him her name, but it turned out to be a lie. At some point, something tragic happened to the male lead's family though I can't recall the specifics, it likely involved a relative dying due to actions related to the female lead's family. Essentially, she deceived him, and he views her as a traitor. When he discovers that the maid spying on him is the same girl he liked as a child the one who betrayed him he begins to reveal his darkest aspects, no longer seeing her as a human being.
Try Begging is labeled as a romance, but the plot is so thin that it often feels more like an excuse to string together explicit and increasingly violent scenes. With each chapter, the story escalates the extremity of these encounters, attempting to shock readers rather than tell a cohesive narrative. This approach not only cheapens the story but also risks normalizing harmful stereotypes and abusive behaviors. Whereas dark romance can, in some cases, explore the psychology behind difficult themes in a thoughtful way, Try Begging seems to prioritize shock value over substance. Rather than adding depth or exploring the complexity of trauma, the story leans heavily on fetishized violence, reducing the characters' interactions to little more than graphic displays of dominance.
While some may argue that Try Begging pushes boundaries to create a gritty, intense narrative, the reality is that the series presents these moments without the emotional or psychological weight they deserve. By glossing over the aftermath of these traumatic events, the story risks trivializing ab*se, framing it as merely another trope within the romance genre. Fetishizing violence in this way isn't just uncomfortable; it's irresponsible. It sends a message that ab*se can be romantic if it's cloaked in the language of love or passion, which is a harmful narrative for readers, especially those who may be seeking genuine emotional complexity in their media and just stumbled upon the novel or the manhwa. That's why, in my opinion, it's crucial to conduct reviews of these types of romances. By analyzing and discussing the themes and dynamics at play, the new readers can gain a deeper understanding of what's really happening beneath the surface. It's important to highlight not just the romantic elements but also the troubling aspects that might glorify or trivialize ab*se. This helps ensure that potential readers are aware of the content they are engaging with, enabling them to make informed choices about the stories they consume.
One of the most frustrating aspects of Try Begging when I was reading it, is its lack of progression. Many readers might continue a story, even with troubling themes, if they see potential for character growth or redemption. However, Try Begging shows little interest in allowing its characters to evolve, trapping them in a cycle of ab*se that offers no hope for resolution or change. From chapter 64 to chapter 100+, even going to chapter 200, she was just repeatedly assaulted.
Why was this even published? It's shocking that Try Begging has managed to find an audience and secure a platform. In the end, Try Begging fails as both a romance and a dark narrative. It takes the worst aspects of the genre violence, possessiveness, obsession and amplifies them without any of the psychological nuance that could make such themes compelling or meaningful. By focusing on fetishized depictions of dominance and control, the story sacrifices any chance at genuine emotional depth, reducing its characters to hollow vessels in a disturbing spectacle. This isn't to say that dark romance can't or shouldn't explore challenging themes. But a line needs to be drawn between narratives that use dark themes thoughtfully and those that exploit them for shock value. Try Begging crosses that line repeatedly, offering readers a vision of romance that's as hollow as it is troubling.
Some might ask, "But you read the synopsis, so why did you keep reading?" The answer is that I do read dark romances, and I'm usually fine with the genre also I have no problem with people enjoying this type of story; that's perfectly fine. I'm not here to shame anyone for their preferences. However, I do hope that readers can acknowledge and recognize the harmful elements within this novel and refrain from justifying them by simply labeling it as dark romance. Also, please don't try to defend the male lead he is, by definition, a
rapist. Fictional or not, his actions are sickening, and the depths he sinks to are beyond comprehension.
But for readers who appreciate dark romance but crave stories with substance and depth, I'd recommend looking elsewhere. Try Begging may have the trappings of a romance, but its heart lies in a deeply problematic portrayal of ab*se and control that leaves little room for redemption or empathy. In the end, it's a story that's more disturbing than it is romantic.
