While I was reading 50 Shades of Grey, I kept a running list in my head of things people say in the book that nobody--outside of people in 1950's sitcoms--says in real life. Phrases like Oh my, for pity's sake, mighty fine, for heaven's sake, crap / double crap / triple crap, and, my personal favorite, down there (in reference to the lady bits).
Oh my was a particularly popular one—this was the heroine’s go-to phrase, which she dropped more often than most people say like. “He’s putting his hand down my panties! Oh my!” “He just suggested I sign a contract saying he can debase me! Oh my!” “I’m a complete and utter waste of space! Oh my!”
50 Shades, for
those of you who haven’t read it, is the story of a young woman, Ana, who meets
and falls in love with a 27-year-old gajillionaire named Christian Grey. They
meet cute—Ana actually trips and does a face plant into his office—and they
strike up a romance. Problem is—she’s a virgin and wants a regular boyfriend.
(I think.) He’s a Dominant looking
for a sub. This is an approximation of her face when he shows her his "red room of pain":
The writing is my first quibble. These people were supposed
to be early-to-mid-twenties adults who live in Portland, Oregon in the present
time, but they talked like June Cleaver. Any time the author tried to break out
of that, it came out as painfully out-of-place and flat. The writing was
absolutely cringe-worthy.
Then there was the “inner goddess.” Ana’s inner goddess was
apparently this whole other person who followed her around, did tap dances when
Ana was happy, and hid under furniture when she wasn’t. Or was that the
subconscious? The subconscious followed her around too. In one scene, the inner
goddess was “panting” while the subconscious was under the couch. For a girl
with absolutely no sexual drive whatsoever before she meets Christian, Ana’s id
is one confusing, crowded place.
But even so, I get why people like 50 Shades of Grey. I do.
It repeats all the required romance novel tropes—and takes
them to the nth level. For instance.
We have the hunky, fabulously wealthy hero. How Christian became this rich and
successful in his 20’s, we have no idea. We also don’t know what his business
does. He could be a blood diamond magnate, for all we know. But we do know he donates to a lot of
charities. So yay.
And then we have the naive, sexually inexperienced heroine.
Ana is a college senior whose hobbies include classic British lit, flushing,
and lip-chewing. And her innocence strains credulity. Let’s see…she’s
beautiful, she’s not from a conservative religious background, she doesn’t have
a history of sexual abuse…but she’s never had sex, never masturbated—apparently
never seen a penis. What, does this girl not have the Internet? Doesn’t she get
curious??
And yet she immediately becomes some kind of
multiple-orgasm-having, deep-throat-giving sex queen the minute she gets naked
with Christian. Ohh-kay.
The sex scenes were probably the best writing in the book,
in my opinion. …Except where he pulls her TAMPON out of her VAGINA in one of
them.
Anyway. I think what really makes this book work—what keeps
readers coming back—is the emotional manipulation. Christian—outwardly strong,
tough, and controlling; inwardly a little wounded bird with a history of sex
abuse—never sleeps over with a woman. Never
lets a woman touch him during sex. Never wants
more than a sexual relationship.
Except he wants those things with Ana.
That’s the draw of the bad boy. It’s why the nice guy isn’t
that compelling—because he’s nice to everyone.
The bad boy, however, treats most women like tissue paper. Except you. You special, special sparkly
unicorn, you.
And I can pick on the excruciating writing in this book all
day. That’s mostly what I spent my time doing in the Twitter posts. But I
actually have a deeper problem with the book—despite what works.
People fall for 50
Shades for the same reason they fell for the Twilight books—which 50
Shades started its life as fanfic for. In Twilight, you have the tension between a young, innocent woman
falling for a courtly, elegant man who isn’t sure if he wants to date her or kill
her. In 50 Shades, you have that same
tension—between a young, innocent heroine and a courtly, elegant man who isn’t
sure if he wants to date her or tie her to a stake and beat her black and blue.
Exact same tension.
Except 50 Shades
takes everything that’s dysfunctional about the relationship in Twilight and amplifies it. Ana is more useless and weak than Bella Swan.
And Christian is more abusive,
controlling, and dangerous than Edward. Way more.
A lot of people point out the contract Christian wants Ana
to sign as a symbol of how dysfunctional their relationship was. But to me,
that seemed like the only healthy thing about it.
The thing is, every relationship is a power struggle.
Wouldn’t even non-kinky relationships benefit from stating
our needs up front, explaining exactly what we need—both in and out of the
bedroom—and negotiating our soft and hard limits? Those might have to do with sex—or with divvying up chores. Whatever.
My point is that, even though I have no personal experience in this area, I don't think consenting Dom/sub relationships in and of themselves are necessarily dysfunctional. But this one was.
The way Christian continually disrespected Ana’s boundaries
made me uncomfortable. And the way his Dom tendencies were explained by his
disturbed background—as a sub for an older woman and earlier because his mom
was “a crack whore”—made it seem like the Dom/sub aspect itself was unhealthy.
Like attraction to this lifestyle needed
some kind of dramatically terrible background to explain it. Which I imagine
would be insulting to real-life kinky people.
[SPOILER ALERT]
I haven’t read the rest of the books—although, if there are
other books, I think it’s safe to assume they get back together. But I couldn’t
help cheering when Ana broke up with Christian at the end. It was the only
semi-smart thing she did the entire book, seeing as Christian was a
controlling, abusive, manipulative dick the whole time. But as to whether this
new ability to make the most obvious good decisions will last in the coming
books—I’m not betting on it.
