The term "potboiler" is often disparagingly applied, by critics, to describe a purely "commercial" piece of art. As if to say the author (or painter, filmmaker, etc.) simply churned out a pandering claptrap to "keep the pot boiling." I became familiar with the term as a teenager when I discovered the life-changing works of Jacqueline Susann, Harold Robbins, Judith Krantz, Jackie Collins and their illustrious ilk. And, although, the term "potboiler" was supposedly derogatory, I certainly never viewed it that way.
For years, however, I thought the term referred to the plot and not the author's intentions. After all, paperback escapism often involve a series of melodramatic incidents and soapy entanglements building towards a dramatic denouement. The plot strands set to simmer until they reach a boiling point.
Whichever definition of "potboiler" you use (mine or the traditionally accepted one), it can absolutely be applied to "Bed of Strangers." Racial, economic and (of course!) sexual tensions simmer in a small Mississippi county leading to all manner of sordid doings and escalating melodrama. It all wraps up rather neatly. Too neatly considering we're still dealing with many of the issues fueling the book's overheated plot (voting rights, white supremacy, PTSD among veterans, etc.).
You can grouse (if you really want to) about serious social issues used in service to a series of lurid, prurient plot points, although I'm not going to. My complaint lies with the presence of serious social issues in a trashy potboiler. I won't fault the book, which was gloriously silly and shamelessly entertaining, for my desire to escape from 2021 when indulging in paperback escapism.