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).

One minute we’re joking and the next…I fan my heated face.  He’s just sex on legs, and now I have to recover my equilibrium and eat something.  The aria is still playing in the background.

Yeah.

I think one of the things I hate about this book is that the humor just doesn’t work given the context of abuse.  The above line would be hilarious if we hadn’t spent the previous seventeen chapters watching Ana fall into this sick relationship.

The same thing is true for Christian’s man Taylor.  His random appearances and the things he does for Christian would be hilarious in another story.  He kind of reminds me of P. D. Wodehouse’s Jeeves, and I don’t think that’s accidental.  It’s sad that this is the one decent bit of writing in the book and a lovely subtle literary allusion that is probably lost on the majority of Fifty Shades readers.

Anyway, Chapter 18 opens with Ana’s gynecological exam.  Thankfully, E. L. James spares us the details.  I don’t think she knows how American pharmacies work, though.  The doctor writes Ana a script for birth control but tells her to pick it up the next day–which makes no sense.  Ana should be able to go to her local Walgreen’s (or whatever) and get what she needs.

After the appointment, Ana makes a rough attempt at humor by telling Christian the doctor has said she has to abstain for a month.  Here, again, we have this interaction that should be funny, but isn’t.  Christian reacts to her joke and her laughter with “narrowed eyes,” and Ana thinks he looks “forbidding.”  She is afraid that she’s made him angry.  By cracking a joke.  Even less funny is when Christian says, “Gotcha.”  Yes, you read that right–he derived pleasure and amusement from scaring her into believing he was angry enough about her joke to “punish” her.

After that, I think we time-travel to the Victorian Era.  After revealing his own “joke,” Christian says,

You are incorrigible, Miss Steele.

Blech.  I am imagining her in a long, high-collar dress with a corset underneath.  Er…actually, scratch that, it might be a bad idea, given the subtext here.  But doesn’t that line just sound like something out of one of those old-fashioned romances?  Oh, dear–the Little Woman isn’t sticking to her proper place.  I’m sure she’ll learn, though.  The women in those stories always end up figuring out how to keep their men happy.

After all the jokey nonsense is cleared up and Ana declares her man “sex on legs,” she inexplicably asks about the music.  Christian’s attempt at pretentiousness is hindered by the fact that E. L. James has the name of the aria wrong.  There is no aria called “Villa Lobos.”  Villa-Lobos is the composer.  Just so you know.  Also, I realize I’m being picky here, but details do matter, and this is just another way in which we can see the poor quality of writing.  I didn’t actually know the music, so I wanted to listen to it.  A five-second Google search revealed the author’s mistake.  Couldn’t she have bothered to fix that when she wrote this thing?

I will end with Ana’s lunch with Christian, which follows the usual steps: Ana hasn’t eaten properly, she stresses about the food, Christian orders her to eat, they have an awkward conversation, and somehow the whole thing turns into sex.  This is the story of every. single. meal they share.   We’re going to learn more of Christian’s history that led to his need to dominate and control; are we going to learn what kind of trauma Ana suffered that led to her disordered eating?  Though in fairness, she seems to be fine when she’s with other people, eating and drinking normally–this is apparently an effect Christian has on her.

We’ll leave it there for this week, as I think that’s about all I can handle.  It’s Monday morning and I’m still recovering from the switch to Daylight Savings Time.

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 sure if my eye has just been skipping over all the mistakes or if they’re actually increasing in frequency, but there are an alarming number of things wrong in this chapter (and this section in particular).  I’ve loosened up quite a bit as a Grammar Nerd in the last ten months or so.  I started doing some work as a beta reader, and I’ve learned that there are far worse things than misplaced commas.  A bad plot, flat characters, and too much exposition rather than action definitely trump poor grammar.  Unfortunately, Fifty Shades has all of those problems.  I am still at a loss to explain how this steaming pile of manure ended up becoming a bestseller.

Today’s section contains the following examples of How to Write a Terrible Story:

• Use of the phrase “Laters, baby” or any combination of those two words in a given section of dialogue.  I get it that Christian and Elliot are brothers and might have some similar speech patterns–if this were real life.  But it’s not, so give them their own damn personalities.
• Describing what characters are like, instead of showing us.  Elliot is warm and affectionate, Kate is talkative.  Great–now let’s see that.
• Constant disapproval between Ana and Kate.  They’re always criticizing each other.  That would be fine, if they weren’t supposed to be best friends. Other than Ana continually stating such, I see no evidence of it.
• Bizarre conversational switches.  I love this charming bit of Kate’s dialogue.  Christian has sent them champagne, and Ana has confessed that Christian stalks her.  Kate says helpfully,
  

  Somehow I’m not surprised. He worries me, Ana. At least it’s good champagne and it’s chilled.

  Er.

• Misplaced commas, ellipses, and em dashes.  I know, I know.  With all the other things wrong with this book, this should not be an issue.  It is, though, because the errors are so obvious that any good editor would have caught them.
• Random things that make no sense. Ana is on her way to get felt up examined by Christian’s doctor.  On the drive, she comments that she can drive her new Audi in high heels.  What. The. Hell.
• Oddly ascribed intent.  Ana and Christian have a reasonably pleasant email exchange.  Ana’s reaction?  To roll her eyes at Christian’s “bossiness.”  The problem is that for once, he wasn’t being controlling with her.
• Weird times to be sexually aroused.  Ana is on her way to a gynecological exam.  Not sexy, people–as any woman old enough to have had an exam can tell you.
• So much creepy awkwardness.  Ana somehow has forgotten that she’s there to see the doctor; Christian says he would pay to watch her exam.  Yeah, that’s not disturbing in the least.  (I wouldn’t include this in the bad writing, except I think the creepiness is unintentional–which makes it bad writing, not bad plotting.)

I’m thankful this chapter is finally over.  I don’t know how much more I could have taken.  You’ll all just have to wait until next week to find out how the visit with the OB/GYN turned out.

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).

Extra trigger warning: Domestic violence

After the bizarre set of email exchanges I wrote about last week, we move on to moving on.*  Kate and Ana are packing up to leave their apartment and venture into the Wide World of Post-College Adulthood.  I’m sure there’s a deep metaphor in there somewhere, right?

At Christian’s insistence, Ana has accepted his gift of a brand-new Audi (which is now ironic, given the Super Bowl ad).  He sends Taylor (his trusty aide) to pick up Ana’s old Beetle.  The fact that Taylor tells Ana, unprompted, that Christian is a “good man” seems out of place.  The only thing she asked was how long Taylor had worked for Christian–nothing about Christian’s moral character.  Ana’s thought is pretty telling, though:

Can I trust him?

Er, no, Ana, you can’t.

There’s some boring stuff about how José has come over with food to talk about their college years.  This may be the one time I’m okay with Ana’s inner goddess showing up, if only because the rest is to mind-numbingly dull and unimportant.  Unfortunately, I’m ready to slap the inner goddess when Ana says she’s

…waiting not so patiently for Sunday.

Ana, honey, isn’t that when you have your appointment with the gynecologist?  Not something I await impatiently; but, hey, if that’s your thing, cool, I guess.

Elliot (remember, this is Christian’s brother and Kate’s Man-Flavor of the moment) shows up and he and Kate proceed to go at it with each other as though there are no other people in the room.  Now, I realize that my college experience is different from Ana’s, since I attended a Christian school.  Still, I think that Kate and Elliot would have had more sense than to do whatever the hell “sexing”** is in front of other people.  Also, Elliot

winks a big blue eye at me

I guess he’s a cyclops?  (I realize winking is done with one eye, but the way this is phrased just brought a very different image to mind.  Sorry.)

Ana laments that she misses how “uncomplicated” José is.  My first thought was, “Well, we wouldn’t have this stupid book if you’d chosen him, now would we?”  And then I remembered that José tried to force himself on her.  Never mind.

So now we get to why I titled this post Moody-Broody.  At the beginning of this section, Ana says that Christian is “fun” one minute and “formal and stuffy” the next; now he’s emailing, calling, and texting her because she didn’t contact him when she got out of work.  He worries about her and doesn’t like that feeling.  Oh, poor baby.  We get another “double crap” from Ana, who wonders

Will he ever give me a break?

No, Ana, he won’t.  You know why? Because he’s a controlling bastard, that’s why.  I know that in this book we get all the fluffy-bunny happy endings (or at least, we will in book 3), but in real life?  This scenario usually ends in beatings (the real kind, not the BDSM kind), humiliation, and/or death.  I just can’t fathom how anyone is reading this and finding it romantic:

He is suffocating me.  With a deep dread in my stomach, I scroll down to his number and press dial.  My heart is in my mouth as I wait for him to answer.  He’d probably like to beat seven shades of shit out of me.  The thought is depressing.

I understand that this is fiction.  But if this is how you, person reading this blog post, are feeling about a real relationship you are in, then please get out.  Get help.  Tell your friends (non-disclosure agreement be damned).  Whatever you do, don’t stay with a person who makes you feel afraid–even if in between things seem wonderful.  I believe people can change, but you are not responsible for changing anyone but yourself.  You are not responsible for changing an abuser into a better person.

This chapter continues, but I’m going to leave you with some real stories of real women who have been through abusive relationships.  Again, if any of this sounds familiar to you, please seek help.  This list of resources is a good place to start.

• The Legacy of Domestic Abuse
• Domestic Abuse. A guest Post.
• Guest Post: God in Reeboks

I’m here too, and you can contact me through this blog if you just need someone to listen.  I’m not a replacement for the help you may need, but sometimes it’s okay just to need to let stuff out.

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*This book is very poorly edited; so many fine examples in this chapter.  It makes my inner grammar police to the angry dance.

**This is how Wikipedia defines “sexing.”

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 suppose now is the moment when I have to grudgingly acknowledge that E. L. James at least manages to keep some consistency in her characters.  (Though I don’t think that’s hard to do, given that she essentially stole them from Twilight.)  Ana and Christian are pretty much the same people in their emails as they are the rest of the time.

And there ends any compliment I can give to this chapter.

A large amount of space is given to Ana and Christian’s email correspondence.  I suppose that makes sense, since he just told her she should communicate about their relationship that way; he thinks she’s more honest than in person.  At first, I found myself amused by their email banter.  I would have continued to be entertained by it if not for two things:

1. They already don’t have a healthy relationship; it’s hard not to see that in every interaction they share.
2. There were more disturbing things in the emails that reflect the disturbing aspects of their relationship.

I don’t think I need to say more on the first issue.  I’ve just spent many weeks outlining the problems between these two people.  As for the second, let me illustrate (italics are my responses):

Ana: You wanted to know why I felt confused after you–which euphemism should we apply–spanked, punished, beat, assaulted me. [Not so much a problem if you like that sort of thing, but super bad writing; do we need a class on how “words mean things” and Ana didn’t use a single euphemism there?]

Ana: What worried me was how I felt afterwards. And that’s more difficult to articulate. [Yes, that worried all of us reading this, too.]

Ana: I was happy that you were happy. I felt relieved that it wasn’t as painful as I thought it would be. And when I was lying in your arms, I felt–sated. But I feel very uncomfortable, guilty even, feeling that way. It doesn’t sit well and I’m confused as a result. [So, not happy herself, and feeling guilty, uncomfortable, and confused.  That doesn’t sound mutually enjoyable to me.]

Christian: So you felt demeaned, debased, abused, & assaulted…Do you really feel like this or do you think you ought to feel like this? [Way to care so much about how she’s feeling, you jerk.]

Christian: If this is how you feel, do you think you could just try and embrace these feelings, deal with them, for me? That’s what a submissive would do. [I wouldn’t know myself, but I wouldn’t doubt that’s what an experienced submissive would do. Ana, however, is not experienced. And he’s being a dick again.]

Christian: I am grateful for your inexperience…it means that you are mine in every way. [And speaking of her lack of experience…creepily possessive much?]

Christian: My hand was very sore. But I like that. [Wah, wah.  Sorry smacking her butt injured you.]

Christian: We are consenting adults… [Yes, but you are a coercing adult.]

Christian: You need to free your mind and listen to your body. [Actually, that’s the problem here.  Damn inner goddess.  She should try listening to her brain now and again.]

Ana: And if I listened to my body I’d be in Alaska by now. [Er, no. See above.]

Christian: You are an adult–you have choices. [Yes, when she’s not being manipulated by you.]

Christian: Alaska is very cold and no place to run. I would find you.I can track your cell phone–remember? [Stalker.]

Ana (thinking to herself): Is he serious about coming to find me, should I decide to escape for a while? [Yes, you twit. He is STALKING YOU.]

After which follows a series of emails about stalking, therapy, words that don’t appear in the dictionary, and Ana getting to work on time.  They’re not terribly well-written, but if it weren’t for the rest of the emails they would be at least mildly amusing.

I think what worries me most about their exchange is that the night before, Christian has asked Ana to be honest with him.  He even suggested that she communicate via email so that she could be more open.  But the minute she is, all he does is chastise her for how she’s feeling and tell her to get over it.

Speaking of honesty, I have to admit that the idea of a D/s relationship is borderline squicky for me as it is, but I can accept that there are plenty of people who enjoy that sort of thing.  I would never tell them they shouldn’t.  On the other hand, I am not convinced that this is the best or healthiest way for a person (particularly a woman in the role of sub, given western rape culture) to make her sexual debut.  She has had no time to find out what she’s actually interested in exploring–she’s been plunged directly into a relationship with someone who has established preferences while she has none.

Not only that, I sense that a really big thing is missing from this “relationship” that is not only necessary for D/s play but is also vital for any intimate relationship: trust.  Sure, there’s consent here, but Christian keeps insisting that Ana should trust him.  You can’t force trust; it’s built on time and trustworthy actions.  He has neither of these things on his side, so asking for her trust is questionable at this stage.  In their email exchanges, he does not do one thing that would build her trust in him.  He shoots her down, he mocks her, he claims ownership of her, and he threatens her.  This would make sense in the fantasy world of two people who love, care for, and trust each other; it is suspect in a pseudo-relationship between a naive young woman and an experienced, psychologically damaged man.

I’m addressing the issue of trust in other ways this week, so I hope you’ll stay with me as the ever-expanding multi-blog conversation on human sexuality continues.

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 read chapter 16.  I skimmed it a second time.  I’m still not entirely sure what I just read.

Does anyone else find it weird and kind of creepy that Christian is keeping count on Ana’s orgasms?  I mean, I guess that considering he’s a control freak it shouldn’t surprise us, but I still think it’s odd.  I’m gonna chalk this one up to bad writing, though.  It sounds to me more like the author’s poor attempt at recap and a strange transition into Ana’s confession that the count is actually seven, not six, orgasms because she had one in her sleep.  (And for those keeping another kind of count, we got both an “Oh my” and a “double crap” in the same chapter!)

Up next, we have another awkward Birth Control Discussion.  Let me explain why this bothers me.  Wait, no.  There is too much.  Let me sum up.  First, since when does it need to be all her responsibility to take care of that?  They’re only supposed to be together for a few months.  Second, she should already have been seeing a women’s healthcare professional, despite her lack of sexual experience.  Third, he wants to have her see his doctor (who is presumably not a gynecologist)–creepy much?  I guess in this section E. L. James has dispensed with any sensible Sex Ed-style advice.  I actually think this is really just so Christian and Ana can go at it like bunnies without her having to mention condoms every time.  I respect the fact that she’s kinda saying, “Stay safe, kids!” by demonstrating that no one has a disease and that they’re trying not to get pregnant.  It’s still a lazy way to do it, though.

Christian admits he got Ana drunk so she’d agree to his terms.  He claims it was so she would be honest with him and that alcohol loosens her up.

“Did you get me tipsy on purpose?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you over-think everything, and you’re reticent like your stepdad. A drop of wine in you and you start talking, and I need you to communicate honestly with me. Otherwise you clam up, and I have no idea what you’re thinking. In vino veritas, Anastasia.”

Yeah, whatever.  Manipulative bastard.

Anyway, after a bunch of other conversation, in which Ana pushes too far and Christian tells her he needs to punish her, we finally get some mild pain/sex.  If it weren’t for the rest of the garbage thrown at us so far in this book, it wouldn’t be too bad.  Not something I would do, but hey, if it’s your thing, you go.  The problem is, we’re still seeing a situation that lacks mutual genuine consent.

Christian spanks Ana–hard–and then they have sex doggie-style.  Which is fine, but she isn’t into it at all.  She strongly dislikes the pain, and the end result is that instead of feeling satisfied herself, she is merely pleased that he is happy with her for her ability to cope.  I guess the whole part about sex being mutually satisfying only means having an orgasm; it has nothing to do with being emotionally connected or anything.

When they’re done, Ana’s “conscience” (different from her inner goddess) shames her and refers to her as a “whore.”  Sigh.  We’re supposed to believe that this whole relationship is a good thing, and yet.  At absolutely every turn of the way we see nothing but this being a bad idea.  From the creepy stalking to the manipulation to the male-gazey everything-shall-please-the-man sex to the slut-shaming, this is shaping up to be just one long advertisement for why not to get involved with men like Christian.  Too bad that wasn’t the author’s intent.

And then Ana spends a long time crying.  She cries to her mother.  She cries to Kate.  She cries while emailing Christian.  Her mother and Kate both offer her actual love and support, as well as some good advice.  Kate is absolutely the world’s best friend.  I so very badly want her in my corner–Ana is lucky.  When Christian shows back up because of Ana’s emails, Kate threatens him.  Unfortunately, Ana is fairly stupid at this point in the book and doesn’t let Kate protect her.  Instead, she lets Christian make it up to her by sleeping (literally) with her.

Before they get to the cozy, sweet sleeping, Ana must know why Christian likes hitting her (and other women).  He explains why.  Now, see, here’s the thing.  I can kind of get that, but if that’s the case, he really needs to be with someone who also gets off on being dominated.  There is no mutuality with Ana.  She likes the idea, sort of, in the same way that some couples like to play around with tying each other up.  But she is not cut out for the whole…er…package, so to speak.  He confesses that the first time he wanted to hit her was way back when she interviewed him and asked if he was gay.  (Dude.  Homophobic much?)  She wants to know why he wants her to change who she is–and he insists that all he wants is for her to be “courteous” and follow his rules.  Oh.  Okay then.

My instinct to stomp my feet and yell like a toddler every time I crack open this book is barely contained.  I really cannot fathom how anyone could find anything in here romantic or hot, nor can I understand how so many people have missed the overt abuse.  I’m kind of sick of “if you don’t like it, don’t read it” and “it’s just fiction” justifications for this crap.  I really don’t care if someone wants to read it, but I do think it’s necessary to go into it eyes wide open.  Find it sexy if you must, but understand why this isn’t a healthy relationship and understand yourself well enough to know why you find it alluring.

For a much better recap on this chapter, read this.

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).

This post contains references to domestic violence and questionable consent.

My piece of advice for the day: When someone is drunk is not the best time to ask that person for consent to sex acts.  Also, intentionally getting that person drunk before asking them to consent is rapey.

I don’t know how many other ways I can say this.  I am not concerned about the rough/kinky sex in Fifty Shades, nor about consensual D/s relationships and however a couple wants to play that out.  I am upset about the way that Christian stalks, controls, and manipulates Ana at every turn.  This is not romantic.  It is not sexy.  It is not anything any woman should wish for her partner to do to her.

Last week, I ended with Christian making some kind of weird small talk that bordered on control in regards to Ana’s future plans.  Side note: Their relationship is only supposed to last for 3 months.  It’s none of his damn business what she plans to do with her life.  Meanwhile, he was plying her with champagne to “relax” her (read: get her drunk).  In today’s thrilling conclusion to this section, they talk about the kind of sex they will be having.  (May I remind you that Ana is doing all this “consenting” while she is slowly getting drunk?)

It starts off all right.  Christian tells her he’s going to spank her for her naughty eye rolls.  Meh.  Not my thing, but Ana finds it hot, which is what counts here.  I’m also not concerned with the fact that Christian is stepping into his role already, since Ana’s agreed to it.  Except he has now given her another cup of champagne, so I’m not sure whether to trust anything else at this point.  After that, they take a look at the Appendix of their contract.

I’ll give him credit here for two things.  First, he respects her limit of no fisting, and he doesn’t try to pressure her to change her mind.  Second, even though she says she’s uncomfortable with anal, he is actually pretty good about that, too.  He does tell her that she might enjoy it and that it’s something he really wants to do with her.  Now, I think she should have the right to say she doesn’t think it sounds good anyway, but that’s not my point.  My point is that couples should be able to talk about these things and decide together what they want.  (That he is basing whether or not she will enjoy it on the fact that he did is another thing entirely, though–anatomically speaking, it’s very different for men and women.)  I’m also cool with the fact that they can talk openly about his sexual history.  Yeah, it’s a little awkward that she’s asking if he’s had sex with men, but what made me happy here is that she’s not doing it in an “ew, nasty” or “oh noes” kind of way–she’s just asking, he’s just answering.

And there ends anything nice I have to say about this part.  Starting with the fact that Ana is receiving yet another cup of champagne, they move on to the list of things they might do.  We have no way of knowing if Ana would agree to any of this if she were sober.  It starts off with basic sex toys.  (And cue the bad writing/lack of a good editor–no one in the U.S. refers to a can or jar as a “tin.”)  It annoys me that he’s laughing at her inexperience when she asks about the “other” category of toys.  He isn’t laughing with her, he’s laughing at her and whining about how he’s never discussed it in detail.  Well, you Big Jerk, that’s because all your other partners actually knew what they were doing.

More bad writing: When they get to the part about bondage, Ana’s damn Inner Goddess just has to show up with the most unfortunate simile:

…[she] bounces up and down like a small child waiting for ice cream.

I don’t even know what to do with that.

Then, we get back to Christian being a First-Rate Ass.  Ana asks him not to laugh at her (because he’s already done so multiple times), and he gets snippy about it.  He promises, snaps that he’s already apologized, and tells her he won’t apologize again.  You know, that doesn’t sound like merely a D/s thing to me, especially when it makes Ana “shrink” back because she’s upset.

As they talk about bondage, he gives her yet another fucking cup of champagne!  What the hell, Christian.  You. Are. A. Manipulative. Bastard.  He says it’s “making her brave.”  Yeah, or just wasted.  You know, one or the other.  And then he does two very squicky things.

First, he tells her he’s willing to try the hearts-and-flowers romance she wants (one day a week, mind you, and only when she’s not his sub).  That would be okay, if it didn’t come off like he’s using it to manipulate her into agreeing to whatever pain he eventually wants to inflict on her.  The sad part is, it works–she says she’ll do anything he wants.  Second, he gets very angry with her.

He’s bought her a car for graduation, which she thinks is too much.  She finally agrees that she will accept it as a loan.  He tells her she’s challenging and says he wants to

…fuck you on the hood of this car right now, just to show you that you are mine, and if I want to buy you a fucking car, I’ll buy you a fucking car.

Which in the context of their roles, doesn’t sound all that awful; it’s sort of what they’re supposed to do.  It’s Ana’s reaction, though, that bothers me.  It’s an indication that this is far more than just two people carrying out a fantasy:

Please don’t be angry with me…I’m sorry about the car and the books…You scare me when you’re angry.

When a person feels afraid of another person’s anger, that is a GIANT RED FLAG in their relationship.  People in consensual relationships, even BDSM relationships, should not be afraid of their partners.  Period.

They have hot, not very kinky sex after that, because that is the very best way for a person to make it up to a partner for being scary.  The smutty writing in this section is awful.  I am not sure how anyone could find it hot.  Some examples:

I gasp and flex my fingers around his girth…

…sliding my fingers under the waistband, feeling the hair in his oh so happy trail.

Holy Moses, he’s all mine to play with, and suddenly it’s Christmas.

His skin is so smooth and soft…and hard…

My inner goddess looks like someone snatched her ice cream.

So. Bad.  But yay E. L. James for more or less providing Sex Ed 101 on condom application for her readers.  Poor Ana for never having taken one of those classes where you learn how to do it right.  (Oddly, I learned how to do it in one of my nursing school classes at a Christian college; go figure.)

Well, there you have it.  Drunken not-quite-consent, fear, and more sex.  And here you thought you might see something different in this book.  Join me next week as we begin a new chapter.

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For the next 3 days, I have a new series going up on the subject of self-pleasure.  That means I won’t be posting snarky responses to Christian crap around the ‘net.  Friday, I’ll be back with the best of the week and a new fiction I wrote for a fellow blogger.  You can check out my new fiction blog at Amore con Formaggio (it means love with cheese).  There’s a short fic there based on a comment my husband made regarding Mark Driscoll’s suggestion about how wives could wake their husbands in place of an alarm clock.  No worries, it’s not explicit.