Fifty Shades of Grey

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).

Happy Monday!  I now have enough caffeine in my system to write about Fifty Shades.  (But not nearly enough alcohol; I have no idea how I’m going to finish this series.  Meh–I’ll manage.)

Ana has arrived in Georgia to visit her mom and husband-I’ve-lost-track-of-what-number.  She thinks,

I like this husband, Mom.  You can keep him.

This is yet another example of Ana telling us how much she likes some person or another, even though we readers have no idea why.  With Kate, Ana is constantly in Jealous Mode, yet she assures us Kate is superawesome.  With Christian, he’s intensely creepy, but Ana reminds us on nearly every page how hot he makes her.  Now we have Bob.  Apparently, the thing Ana likes is that Bob has twinkly blue eyes “that gaze at [her] fondly.”

Ana spends several paragraphs complaining about the heat and her “fog of fatigue.”  So it’s only natural that instead of going to her mother’s house to rest and soak up the AC, she asks to go to the beach.  You know what?  I’ve taken late-night flights before.  It’s not pretty.  The last thing I wanted to do was anything other than shower and take a nap.  But hey, who am I to judge?  At least it’s gotten her mind of Christian, right?

Or not.

Here comes the Big Mother-Daughter Talk.  Ana’s mom opens by asking about the relationship, to which Ana replies that Christian is “complicated and mercurial.”  Her mother wisely chooses to focus on those two things, but then she goes on to lose all the respect I was just beginning to have for her.  Somehow she fails to notice when Ana says,

. . . his mood-swings make me dizzy.  He’s had a grim up-bringing, so he’s very closed, difficult to gauge.

Instead of going with the giant red flag about the mood swings, Ana’s mother asks Ana if she likes him.  Yeah, that would not be my first response to that.  What follows is a really strange bit of dialogue.  Her mother decides to characterize men somewhat oddly, going with tired stereotypes of men as hardly more deep than a kiddie pool:

Men aren’t really complicated . . . They are very simple, literal creatures.  They usually mean what they say.  And we spend hours trying to analyze what they’ve said–when really it’s obvious. . . I’d take him literally.

In a sense, I guess I agree with her advice.  If Ana were to take Christian at his word, she might recognize him for the abusive, creepy person he is.  On the other hand, I don’t think that Ana’s mother is a good source of advice on this.  Besides making it sound like all men are shallow and kind of stupid, she’s also on her fourth (ah, yes, that’s it) husband.  Ana doesn’t seem to realize this, though.

She is on her fourth marriage.  Maybe she does know something about men after all.

Did it occur to you, Ana, that she’s on husband number four precisely because she doesn’t know crap about men at all?  I’m going with “like mother, like daughter” here.

Her mother proceeds to tell her that most men are moody.  Apparently her mother can’t make up her mind.  Are men simple and literal, or are they complicated and moody?  I don’t even know what to do with this one:

I used to think your father was moody.  But now . . . I just think he was too caught up in his job and trying to make a life for us.

Dear Ana’s mother: You would know if you’d ever bothered to, I don’t know, have a real conversation with him about it.  It’s a myth that men don’t like to talk about what’s on their minds.  There isn’t some secret to approaching men about their feelings.  I mean, you can’t just open with, “Hi, honey.  You’ve been super moody lately.  Want to tell me why?”  Women generally do not like that approach either.  Who wants to be grilled like that?  But good, old-fashioned communication works pretty well, I find.

Eventually, the conversation ends somewhat abruptly and Ana’s mom disappears to “mold some candles or whatever she does with them.”  Off-topic, but I seem to recall a YA book where the mom’s best friend is into candle-making.  Anyone remember reading such a book back in the ’80s?  If you remember the title, let me know.  It’s really bothering me now.

Christian has finally replied to Ana’s email.  He’s all mad that she communicates openly when there’s distance between them, but not in person.  Well, yes, because you scare her, you ass.  He threatens to make an appointment for her with his psychiatrist.  Is it wrong of me to think that’s not a bad idea?

He goes on to explain to her that in a D/s relationship, she has all the power as his sub.  Except that is never how he behaves with her.  Not only that, he tells her that if she says no, he can’t touch her and reminds her that she said no in his parents’ boathouse.  He seems to have forgotten that in the boathouse, he didn’t respect her no.  Remember the time when he raped her?  Yeah.

See, if he hadn’t come across as a creepy stalker, a rapist, and an all-around horrible person/boyfriend, this email is actually decent at the start.  It’s just wrong in the context of everything else that’s happened.  His assurance that she has the power here is only true in regard to what they do in the bedroom (or the Red Room of Pain).  The rest of the time, he is the one controlling every last thing between them.

He goes on to tell her that she’s not properly allowing him to have control over her anywhere but the “playroom.”  Wait…didn’t he just say that she is the one really in control?  He ends by saying that he will “try” to do things her way.  It seems to me that there is a huge gap in their understanding of each other, not to mention that he’s still creepy as hell–evidenced by his closing line:

. . . enjoy yourself.  But not too much.

What the actual, Christian.  Not too much?  She is with her mother and stepfather number three.  What constitutes “too much fun”?  Learning how to make candles?  Lying on the beach?  Dinner at the golf club?

Ana’s reaction reminds me so much of a line from the movie Roxanne.  Steve Martin’s character says to Daryl Hannah’s,

A few frilly words and you’re counting ceiling tiles!

That’s a pretty accurate description of Ana here.  Christian sends her an email she describes as being like a high school essay (“and most of it good!”), and all of a sudden she’s giddy with the desire to make things work between them.  This story would be a thousand times more interesting if Christian had had someone else write his emails and if Ana figured out she was really in love with that other person.  Alas, we’re stuck with Ana *hearts* Christian Forever.

I’m going to spare everyone a discussion on the rest of their email exchange, which quickly devolves into something no one wants to read.  If it weren’t for the fact that Ana’s not allowed to touch herself, and the interruption from her mother that it’s time for dinner, I would expect the two of them to start having email sex.  Unfortunately (fortunately?) they don’t.

I will leave it there for now.  Up next week, I ask the question, “How can this possibly get more convoluted while Ana is on vacation?” because somehow, it does.  That shouldn’t be surprising to anyone, though.

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).

Every Monday, when I sit down to write about Fifty Shades, I think, There can’t possibly be anything else for me to say about this horrible book.  And then I reread the section I’m going to post about and realize that there is, indeed, plenty more to say.

In today’s episode, The One Where Ana Goes on an Interview, we get a fantastic combination of boring and silly.  This is followed up by a conversation that makes me like Kate less and another series of bizarre email exchanges.  Is anyone else sick of reading Ana and Christian’s online correspondence?

Ana is meeting with the good folks at Seattle Independent Publishing.  She describes the people who work there as “bohemian.”  Naturally, the people at the big, mean corporate publishing house are all dull people in suits; the independent publishers are artsy and casual-cool.  Is this supposed to make us root for them to hire Ana?  I also find it strange that she seems to think she will fit in there.  I need someone to explain this to me, because I see no evidence that Ana is the “bohemian” sort.  Nothing we’ve seen of her personality thus far would suggest that she’s the “artsy” type.  Or any other type, actually–she has virtually no personality apart from her interactions with Christian.

I don’t know which Twilight characters are supposed to be represented by the interviewers, if any.  Honestly, though, my first thought on reading Ana’s description of the editor, Jack Hyde, is that she’s being interviewed by Bill Weasley.  Long red hair in a ponytail? Check.  Earrings? Check (though hoops, not a fang).  Blue eyes? Check.  Attractive? Check.  Gah.  Dammit, E. L. James, you have now ruined a second book for me.  It doesn’t help that Ana feels sort of uncomfortable with him.  I think we’re supposed to assume he finds her attractive.  Naturally, since all men are obviously going to fall head-over-heels for Ana within 30 seconds of meeting her.  She’s just that hot.  It makes me feel super-duper icky thinking about anyone shipping Bill Weasley and Bella Swan Ana Steele (you know someone has done this).

When Ana meets the head of human resources, she can’t tell how old the woman is.  Do you know why?  Because the woman

. . . could be in her late thirties, maybe in her forties.  It’s so difficult to tell with older women.

Ana, screw you.  You seem to be calling me an “older woman” here.  I get it that you’re all young and hip and stuff, but please do not refer to women my age as “older women.”  I was actually looking forward to turning 40 in a couple more years, but now that I’m apparently already “older,” I guess I can just give up.  My life is clearly nearing its end.

Ana’s big criticism of Bill Weasley Jack Hyde is that he doesn’t seem interested in classic literature.  Well, who wouldn’t criticize that?  I mean, nothing of value has been written after 1950!  And it’s so shocking that a publisher would want new material.  I guess this is supposed to heighten our distrust of Ana’s future employer.  He finds her hot, he hates the classics.  Ooh…creepy.

Anyway, I guess we’re supposed to think this interview went well.  Ana returns to her apartment to have another “interview”–with Kate.  Ana remembers that she needs to have a serious talk with Kate about not winding Christian up because he’s the jealous type.  The conversation makes me want to punch Kate.  First she tells Ana that she was trying to “help”:

. . . He’s a real control freak.  I don’t know how you stand it.  I was trying to make him jealous–give him a little help with his commitment issues.

Um, what?  So, the best way to help someone who is a control freak is to make him jealous so that he becomes more controlling?  So, Kate wasn’t trying to get Ana to see what an abusive jerk Christian is–she was trying to make him “commit” to Ana.  As expected, Ana doesn’t tell Kate all about the Red Room of Pain.  Instead, she confesses that she’s fallen for Christian.  Kate, in a strange moment of not seeing Christian for the ass he is, tells Ana that she’s sure he’s fallen for her, too.  She says that if they haven’t professed their undying love told each other how they feel, they’d better get to it.

. . . Someone has to make the first move, otherwise you’ll never get anywhere.

Kate, you have lost all my respect.

After the job interview and Kate the Great’s grilling session, we have to suffer through another round of “Ana and Christian exchange emails no one wants to read.”  These are always awful.  I guess the only positive is that we don’t have to read about Christian wearing his pants “in that way” or Ana’s Inner Fucking Goddess.  Instead, we get to read Ana referring to their morning desk sex as “impeccable.”

Now, I recognize the fact that I’m particular about word choice.  When I proofread, I’m not shy about saying that despite its dictionary definition, some words just should not be used the way the writer has used it.  E. L. James’ use of “impeccable” here is one of those times.  Didn’t her beta readers or her editor catch this one?  Yes, the word can mean “flawless” or “above reproach.”  In the sense of how it’s defined, no problem.  But I just don’t think it fits here.  Ana sounds like she’s trying to use big, impressive words.  If that had been the goal, I could be cool with that.  The problem is that it’s not–we’re supposed to see this as evidence of Ana’s skill with words.  Oh, look!  The college English major can use 4-syllable words!

Then we get this impossible to decipher response from Christian:

I shall take impeccable as a compliment–though I’m never sure if that’s what you mean, or if your sense of irony is getting the better of you–as usual.

I have no clue what he’s talking about.  Irony–you keep using that word; I don’t think it means what you think it means.  There is nothing in the emails that even remotely hints at irony.  Is he saying he can’t tell if she’s being sincere?  Or that saying they had perfect sex isn’t a compliment because she would rather have had lousy sex?  I’m not sure.  Either way, this exchange, which I suppose is meant to be witty banter, just comes across as nonsense.

Finally, we finish with Ana discovering that Christian has upgraded her to first class.  You know, I understand he’s a control freak, but I’m kind of thinking Ana should be a lot more upset about the incident in the boat house than about the fact that he bumped her to have a more pleasant flight.  If it weren’t for the fact that we’re going to have to read about Ana’s trip to Georgia (after all, it’s her point of view), I would celebrate this chapter ending with her getting on a plane.  I’m tempted to hope the plane crashes on a remote island populated by polar bears, button-pushing Scotsmen, and Michael Emerson.  Betcha that would cure some of Ana’s problems.

On second thought, even I’m not heartless enough to wish Ana on anyone.