Please proceed to The Curious Kinky Person’s guide to Fifty Shades of Grey
BDSM is about rules, which are there to regulate the interaction so that all parties involve benefit. Christian presented Ana with a contract, but that has been completely abandoned by now. Christian pays lip service to concepts like consent, negotiation and rules, but he’ll go beyond them on the thinnest of excuses. Ana just doesn’t understand them at all. Put them together, and you get a disaster.
A digression, which will tie into the peculiar relationship dynamic at the heart of Fifty Shades.
On her way back to Seattle, travelling separately from Christian, Ana thinks about how she’s managed to render the steel-hard man downright squishy.
Ana has a dream about Christian in a cage, offering her a phallic strawberry. The real Christian wakes her up.
She gets dressed, including borrowing a pair of his underwear (identified by brand name, of course.) I get the impression that Ana thinks this is being deliciously wicked, whereas Christian probably thinks this cute, at best. Remember, Christian’s been in kink since he was a teenager, with 15 prior submissives, and owns a private dungeon. Wearing your lover’s underwear or going commando is training-wheels compared to what he’s done.
While the fifteen-minutes of this story have apparently passed, I want to bring up an editorial post on Canadian alternative news site Rabble.ca about the RCMP case: Private fantasy, public reality: The RCMP, BDSM and violence against women, by Meghan Murphy.
How could a man who so clearly enjoys degrading women fairly assess a case that is explicitly about violence against women, about dehumanizing women, and that played out as it did (in that the disappearances of women from the Downtown Eastside were ignored by the police for years) because the women who were going missing were viewed as worthless?
I started this project to critique Fifty Shades of Grey, and instead I end up trying to diagnose it. What is this book? And why is it so unexpectedly popular?
I have neglected to mention Christian’s stalker tendencies to my mom.
I see him. My heart leaps, beginning a juddering thumping beat as he makes his way toward us. He’s really here – for me.
Yes, he’s here “for” Ana, the way the Terminator was there “for” Sarah Connor.
About a month ago, I got a comment on my writing promotional blog from an editor at a local book publisher. She had seen my article on Maria Monk in Maisonneuve magazine, and wanted to know if I had any ideas for books on porn or sexuality.
Thrilled, I polished up my book proposal and the two completed chapters and emailed them too her. Then I started chewing my nails.
I found another page on the Stalag novels, a sub-genre of porn/pulp novels published in Israel in the 1960s, and featuring sex-and-violence adventure tales set in concentration camps.