Warnings: The Fifty Shades series is extremely sexually explicit and involves BDSM. Because of that, and because they are not exactly well-researched or high-quality literature, I will mention things such as abuse, rape, rape culture, male dominance, sexism, relationship violence, and consensual BDSM. Also, the books began as Twilight fanfic, so I will be mentioning Twilight (which is a major squick for a lot of people just by itself).
I’m not going to waste any more time on Chapter 20, even though there was another looooong sequence after the one I recapped last week. Mostly it was just poorly-written smut and a bit of BDSM-lite, followed by a not-very-subtle attempt to drag out the details of Christian’s past. We’re clearly going to get this in Twitter-friendly installments, so we might as well read all three books:
@AnaSteele The woman who brought me into this world was a crack-whore, Anastasia. Go to sleep. #SexyAngst
Anyway, moving on to Chapter 21. At this point, it just has a lather-rinse-repeat feel to it. The smut isn’t that great, the relationship sucks, and none of these people are anyone I want to know in real life. I have to admit, though, that the first part of the chapter isn’t too bad. There are–gasp!–a few things I almost liked.
First, although it wasn’t stellar writing, the sex scene in Christian’s study wasn’t awful. If the rest of the book were a better story, it would have been kind of fun. It’s a little like something out of a movie–he sweeps everything off his desk in order to have each other right then and there. I do feel like these people are written like a stereotype of horny teenagers–they’re rarin’ to go at the mere mention of kinky office sex (which is why I said it wasn’t the best writing). With a little more lead-up, that could have been both very hot and very romantic (that is, if it weren’t Christian and Ana). My love for the fluffernutter variety of romance enjoyed it on some level.
It makes an odd juxtaposition, but I like the next part, too. After they’re done, Christian reverts to Sullen Mode, and Ana has trouble figuring him out. She says he’s acting “weirder than usual.” What I liked about this is that if the author had been intentional about writing an abusive relationship, it would have been psychologically excellent. So much of this book would be fantastic (if potentially triggering) if it had been intentional. The problem for me is that I know where it’s going: Christian waxes angsty, Ana believes she can fix him with her love, he “matures,” and they live happily ever after.
Yeah, that’s pretty much crap and most people know that.
I have the same feelings about these stories where people “save” their partners with love that I do about failure to acknowledge sexual safety. That is to say, I hate them both. I recognize books as escapism and fantasy as much as the next person. I love to lose myself in the characters and settings of a great book. The book doesn’t need to be ocean-deep with life lessons, although I enjoy that too. It just needs to be a good story. There are so many wonderful ways to accomplish this–why do we need savior complexes in romance and sex without safety? The argument that the story doesn’t reflect reality is complete and utter bullshit.
Stories reflect reality. All of them. It might be reality on the level of “these events could actually happen,” or it might be on an emotional, social, spiritual, or philosophical level. The truth is, people enter into relationships like Ana and Christian’s all the time. (I don’t mean the BDSM–I mean the domestic violence.) The way she feels? That’s real life for many people. Selling it as potentially–or actually–romantic does a great disservice to the people who are living this hell. “It’s just a fantasy” doesn’t cut it with me at all.
Even if Ms James didn’t have in mind to create a romance in which a woman saves her man from himself, that is, in fact, what she created. She may not believe that domestic violence can be resolved by the victim giving more love, but she’s reflecting something that many other people do believe. Intentionally or not, she’s written reality–and then twisted it to give readers the fantasy that it can have a happy ending. That’s just plain irresponsible.
Over and over again, my feminist friends and I keep saying, “Words mean things.” This doesn’t just apply to single words; it applies to whole stories. The words in Fifty Shades mean something. Bad writing or not, Ms James had the chance to say something profound with this story, and she chose not to do so. She could have drawn the line between romance and abuse. She could have turned this into a kind of psychological thriller. She could easily have given everyone the happy ending they–and we–deserve by letting Ana break free from the abuse. Heck, she could even have enjoyed something much more romantic. But we’re all stuck with Christian Grey. Talk about Fifty Shades of Wow, This Sucks.
