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).

Ah, so here we have it. We’ve reached the part of the book where Ana, our narrator, has developed an unhealthy curiosity about the creepy stalker who shows up at her work. You know, if this were a story about a woman courageously extracting herself from a predatory, manipulative man, I might have some sympathy here. As written, though, I can’t help thinking only, Ana, you fool.

Christian gets Ana to agree to a date (after trying to convince her that he’s a dangerous man; what a hero, warning her before preying on her). Here’s where the whole thing starts to derail. We’re expected to believe he’s noble because he doesn’t try to get her in his bed immediately. I mean, the guy waits a whole day, right?

See, he knows that giving her a teaser is going to make her want more. He’s not actually giving her an out, he’s manipulating her into signing his damn contract. Unless she signs it, she doesn’t get anything else. Just dropped right back into her boring life. Signing a sex contract, now that’s going to make her life an exciting adventure! Because she couldn’t, you know, go on a trip to Europe or apply to grad school or move halfway across the country or take up snowboarding.

This is where I start to feel uncomfortable with the way the story handles the BDSM aspect of the relationship. BDSM takes a lot of trust between partners. It’s not a simple matter of drawing up a contract on your first date. Part of the problem here, too, is that there’s a misunderstanding of the interactions. At no point does Ana really have any say in the matter. Christian is controlling the entire relationship—right down to demands about her fitness and her clothing.

It also bothers me that Christian never once explains BDSM to Ana. He doesn’t talk her through what a relationship like that means. He never asks her if she understands. He expects a level of trust from her that he doesn’t provide in return. That isn’t healthy in any kind of relationship, much less one with elements that are built entirely on the trust between the two people.

I will admit that I have no personal experience with BDSM. I have a few friends who do, and I did a lot of research before reading these books. I am certainly open to learning more. Just because something isn’t appealing to me doesn’t mean it has to be that way for everyone else.

All of that aside, I do appreciate how once again, the author underscores something unpleasant in the original Twilight series. In the original, Bella is the girl every boy (including the undead one) wants, but who sees herself as unattractive. Similarly, Ana expresses her jealousy of her roommate’s beauty, yet Ana herself is the one who lands the rich, powerful, handsome man. In fact, she’s so desirable guys want to rape and abuse her. That element is present in Twilight too, but it’s more subtle. At least E. L. James has the sense to alert us to this trope. Unless, of course, she actually believes this is a good thing. Which, I suppose, is entirely possible.

Anyway, that brings today’s post to conclusion. Stick around this week, there’s lots to come. And next Monday, we finally get to tackle some smut!

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, everyone!  Shall we get on with the continuing review of Fifty Shades?

Last week, I talked about the subtle (cough, cough) messages of unhealthy power in the first few chapters of the book.  This week, I’m bringing you a Public Service Announcement: Singles interested in dating, please stay away from the ones who could be classified as Creepy Stalkers.

First, I promised I would address the crappy writing of the Big Interview.  Our heroine, Ana, has agreed (for some unknown reason) to interview Christian Grey, despite her lack of experience and enthusiasm.  As expected, she pretty much sucks at it.  Even worse, however, is the fact that her budding journalist roommate does as well.  Not all of her questions are strictly appropriate.  I suppose she was going for some of that hard-hitting journalism, asking how being adopted affected him and whether or not he’s gay.  However, it’s so abrupt in the interview that it feels like it was just thrown in there.  Perhaps this was the author’s attempt to demonstrate upfront that she wasn’t writing Twilight slash?

Following the actual series of interview questions, Christian begins grilling Ana on her own life and plans.  This is the point at which I was already starting to be a bit creeped out by him.  It’s lovely that he wants to offer a soon-to-be college graduate an internship, but he’s had no indication from her that what his company does would even be of interest to her or helpful in her career.  Here, again, we see the strange writing that marks a lot of the book.  He cancels his meeting so he can continue the interview, but the rest of the conversation takes about five minutes of real time.  Couldn’t he just as easily have postponed it?

One can only hope that this is the end of the story.  Christian goes back to his job amassing wealth and saving the world’s poor from starvation (he may hate women, but he sure does love investing in feeding the hungry; what a saint!).  Ana goes back to her boring life working at a Home Depot knock-off and finishing college.  Sadly, one’s hopes would be dashed, because Christian Grey is actually a freakin’ creepy stalker.

Folks, I don’t know about you, but I would not merely be surprised that a big-shot I interviewed showed up at my place of employment even though I never revealed where I worked.  I wouldn’t be merely confused.  I’m sure that Ana was dazzled by his good looks, which for some people, might make up for scary behavior.  Honestly, though, speaking from experience here, it shouldn’t matter.  When a guy is a creeper, everything else pales in comparison.

To be fair to Christian, the next time he comes after her, it’s because she drunk-dials him.  On the other hand, the whole situation she’s in at the time screams, “Blame the victim.”  She’s so drunk she calls a man she barely knows, then refuses to talk to him or tell him where she is.  Then she’s nearly raped by a guy who has supposedly been a good friend to her up until that point.  Because, ya know, she was the one dumb enough to get herself into that position.  Next thing we know, Mr. Creepy is showing up (does he have some kind of cell phone tracking device at home?) to rescue her from the Big Bad Rapist.  I think I just got transported to Doug Wilson‘s world.

Herein lies my one and only praise of this book: At least the author recognizes the rapey sub-themes in Twilight.  Despite the fact that I was entertained by the original series, I freely acknowledge the problems, one of which is—you guessed it—the creepy stalker.  I’ve actually had this argument with people.  I always saw Edward as a creeper.  I mean, dude watches Bella sleep without her knowledge.  That’s pretty messed up.  And don’t get me started on Jacob, Mr. Won’t-Take-No-for-an-Answer.

Fortunately, in Fifty Shades, we get that taken to the extreme.  Apparently, Ms. James didn’t find the rape tropes in Twilight subtle at all.  She’s morphed Edward into Christian, the ultimate loveable creeper, and Jacob into José, the actual attempted rapist.  If it weren’t for all the other problems with Fifty Shades, it would be refreshing to learn I’m not alone in my assessment of the male characters in Twilight.

Join me again next week when I continue my gleeful Fifty Shades bashing party.  Meanwhile, stick around for the rest of the week and see what I have in store.

As promised, I’m starting a series of posts on Fifty Shades of Grey today.  I hope to have something up about once each week, likely on Mondays (if you wish to skip them).  No promises, though.  I get distracted by air molecules.

Anyway, now for the warnings: The books are extremely sexually explicit and involve 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).

Additional warning:  Contains spoilers.  If you plan to read the books but haven’t yet, don’t read these posts.

Let’s get to it.

As expected for fairly well-written fanfic (which, admittedly, Fifty Shades is), it is in the style of the original.  (Just a quick note: There is a big difference between good fanfic and good books; just trust me on this.)  The author, E. L. James, is clearly a knowledgeable fan.  And there ends what I liked about 50 Shades.

Actually, that’s not strictly true, but I’ll get to that in a future post.  (Chill, it’s not what you think.  Perverts.)

Let’s just start with the basic premise:  Our heroine, Anastasia, gets drafted to do an interview because her roommate is sick and can’t do it.  On what planet does this author live?  I have never heard of a journalism student asking a student in another department to do his or her work.  If one is scheduled to interview someone and is then unable, wouldn’t it make more sense to ask a fellow student in your department to go?  Common sense here, folks.  Of course, this is sort of a fantasy, so I guess the rules don’t apply.  At any rate, my annoyance with this book starts on page one.

Leaving that aside, let’s take a look at our main character.  Why is it that we are supposed to feel sympathy towards female characters who hate themselves?  It’s one thing to read a story about a sort of everywoman (see early episodes of 30 Rock).  We can relate to her.  But while that kind of woman may have awkward situations or be a little socially goofy, she isn’t necessarily without confidence.  Anastasia Steele has no idea who she is as a human being.  She thinks the worst of herself, and seems to be jealous of everyone around her.  It’s maddening.  Not only that, we are seeing things from her perspective—it’s in first person—so we know exactly what’s going on inside her head.  Sorry, this doesn’t make her relatable, it makes her annoying.

When Ana gets to the interview, she falls smack on her face in front of the interviewee.  This is another example of the way women are portrayed as submissive to men in fiction (and I’m not even talking about the dom/sub roles or lifestyle here).  I mean, she just looks stupid in front of the Big, Important Main Male Character.  Again, this is probably supposed to endear us to her (and it certainly does for the man she interviews, which is more than a little creepy).  Instead, it frustrates me that it’s another way in which women are often shown as being less powerful than men.  For most feminists, this is obvious.  If it doesn’t make sense to you, I will try to explain using small words.

There are still so many ways in which men have privilege, including that women may not receive promotions or not advance their careers as quickly; that women are still paid less than men for the same jobs and there is no law against it; that women have never held political positions such as President or Vice President of the United States; and that women are more likely to face sexual harassment on the job.  Showing a woman as weak in front of a powerful man is a way of demeaning her.

Did you catch all that?

Not only that, this is a man who seems to employ only women who look and act a certain way.  Yet no one seems bothered by this fact.  Ana is more upset that she isn’t as pretty and perfect as the employees than she is that they may actually be cyborgs or clones.  (Which, incidentally, would probably have made a better story.)  It’s possible that this is what the author was going for, showing the contrast between how Ana feels about it and how we, the readers, feel about it.  But I doubt that, since nothing else in this book seems to be philosophically deep.

I’m going to stop there.  I could go on awhile, but I’ll save it for next time.  Join me for the next installment when I discuss the WTF? interview Ana has with Christian Grey.