Book Review: Fifty Shades

Fifty Shades of Grey, Fifty Shades Darker, and Fifty Shades Freed  are pretty fun reads.  So far I haven't found a review that does the trilogy any justice.  The reviews typically focus on the stilted writing style, and yet this lady's writing style is one that I happen to quite enjoy in a fun romance novel (and that's all this aspires to be in the first place -- fun, romance).  The reviews might mention the quirky persona of the first-person female voice (which, in itself, I find refreshing and rather liberated).  And almost without fail, the reviews will declare that it is nearly impossible for this trilogy to have gained the fame it already has: "How could it be?"  they lament.  "How could this woman hit right on the knob that elusive little button full of orgasm that we men have missed?"

Easy.  Women writers do it all the time.  So does E. L. James with her Fifty Shades trilogy, and the formula is dead-simple:  the fantasy is all in the familiar.  Take, for example, blue-jeans.  North Americans love their blue-jeans.  For women it's a "thing" -- that pretty pair of jeans that makes us look "just right".  Or, that pretty pair of jeans that we wish we could get into... In the book, when she puts on the jeans, we put on the jeans.  And we have the perfect look.  It's really easy.  And then we get that look from our lover.  And then it's all about how fast those jeans can come off.  Nothing very difficult about this fantasy, right?  It's all in the familiar.  Ana has the right jeans.  She has the right education.  She lands her dream job.  She ends up with more money than she can spend.  She has a lover who brings her to climax every... single... time... (except once, but that is dealt with fairly swiftly and is never repeated).

Thrown into the world of his wealth, Ana remains just her plain old self, blue-jeans and all.  Finely-wrought furniture (and there's a snooker table in there also, for a pretty great scene), high-speed car-chases (where our Ana's at the wheel and parks perfectly right after, without a scratch), lovingly-detailed lovemaking, and through it all our Ana is reminded time after time to please eat, she needs to eat more.  I mean, seriously, what part of this fantasy is complicated?  And how much wouldn't speak to women across all nations (if we were all being honest about the snooker table)?  The formula is perfect:  take the ordinary, make it extraordinary.  Take the simple, make it perfect.  Take the every-day living of the under-satisfied North American woman plagued with debt, sexual harassment, jeans that were built for teens, and a lacklustre car that keeps breaking down, and throw her into Ana's world:  the same world, but completely revamped by a sudden love-interest who has all the money required to bring her every conceivable physical comfort.  Suddenly.  Without having to beg for it.

It's fantasy, right?  Anything goes, for fantasy.  Because, then, there's the rough stuff... The ropes, the safe-words, the flogger, the cuffs, the "red room of pain".  She's terrified at first.  She's a virgin, after all, and this is quite an initiation.  She's a "hearts and flowers" kind of girl, and he's a megalomaniac Dom who wants to control every moment of her life.  And the real, truly beautiful fantasy of this trilogy (this is the part that all the critics miss, because they don't approach this trilogy from the mindset of Our Lifestyle) is the exquisite dance of negotiation Ana and Christian Grey achieve over the course of three books.  The negotiation is honest; it is open; it is dramatic; it is painful sometimes; it is hilariously funny in other moments; and it goes on without stopping.  The negotiation is brilliantly accomplished because it is real, bona fide negotiation.  He begins with a list, and she begins with a blank slate.  She moves from her hearts-and-flowers-chaise a little closer to his Dom-play; and he moves away from his Dom-play closer to her hearts-and-flowers-chaise.  Together, they begin to enjoy each other's worlds.  They learn to love what the other has to offer, even though it wasn't originally what they had thought they wanted.  This is the fantasy - open, honest, saying what you need.  It's a great fantasy for the frustrated, silent type.  Negotiating each other's space is tricky and uncharted, but to observe how they do it (and how good it feels afterwards, all that deep and meaningful intimacy they share as a result) is the real fantasy of this trilogy.  Even though this story is really all about Christian's journey away from D/s living, the story still lets us subbies feel, first hand (it's all in first person) what real, REAL intimacy feels like with a Dominant who understands that negotiation is NOT the same thing as topping from the bottom.