I entered the reading experience of Fifty Shades of Grey like that of a seasoned fanfiction
connoisseur.* My canon (the original
published work, in this case Twilight
by Stephanie Meyer) knowledge was brushed up on, I had read the appropriate
“warnings,” and was ready to discern for myself whether or not this new thing
by E L James was a good read. When
beginning a fanfiction, I notice a couple of things in the first few paragraphs
that determine whether or not I keep reading: one, is the narrative crisp,
clear and descriptive, and two, am I reading this author’s perspectives on a
character, or are the characters merely caricatures of canon characters? Right off the bat, Fifty Shades of Grey reminded me of those well done fanfictions
that I choose to “favorite;” that is, the author was threading together a story
with grace while building anticipation for what comes next, and so I was
excited to keep reading. There
were also lemons* promised, and every fanfiction reader knows that sometimes a
good fanfiction can be brought to the next level by a good old-fashioned lemon
or two.
I was impressed with the character work. In the beginning, it seemed a bit
bumpy. I could see “Bella” and
“Edward” isms throughout, and had to stop myself from guessing which of the
other characters matched up with which (i.e. “Jose” for Jacob…good one, E L
James, good one). By the end of
the book, however, Anastasia, this book’s Bella, had surpassed the heroine from
which she was derived by… well…by actually
being something of a heroine for herself.
I won’t spoil the ending, but let’s just say that in this case,
Anastasia fights for what she wants
out of the relationship, and that doesn’t include begging to be turned into a
Vampire so that she can spend all of her eternity in soppy awe of Christian
Grey (the books older, cooler and more disturbed version of Edward
Cullen). Sadly (I will spoil this
for you), Mr. Grey never does reveal himself to be a Vampire, and we are left
with the impression that his fucked-upped-ness actually stems from real human
trauma. This I appreciated in
multitudes.
By the end of the book, I declared to myself that the
grasshopper had truly exceeded the master (although...how hard was it?). Fifty Shades of Grey
author E L James took a difficult subject matter for a mass audience, a BDSM*
romance, and related it easily to the masses. As the main character Anastasia puts it herself, “The BDSM is a distraction from the real
issue.” The real issue is
compromise, and what two people from seemingly opposite worlds must do in order
to share a meaningful relationship with one another. I found myself personally moved by
the trials that our main duo struggle through: not just what each individual wants out of a relationship, but what they are willing to give. The BDSM component actually forced me to see this more
clearly; I was jolted, out of my comfort zone, and therefore able to look at
the text with a more critical eye (a distancing affect Bertolt Brecht would be
proud of…maybe).
Of course, the book is not without faults. It is no work of literary genius, and
often the prose becomes repetitive and a mere means to move the story
along. If I saw one more character
say “Jeez” one more time, I might’ve flipped a table. However, faults aside, if you want to read this for pleasure and maybe also to learn a little bit more about yourself, go for it.
Oh, and the sex is smokin’.
Treat yourself.
*see one post prior for an explanation of how Fifty Shades of Grey came to stand as a novel on its own after originally being posted as a work of fanfiction, or go here
*smutty scenes, often described as lemons on fanfiction sites
*I'll let you look that one up
