"What I begin by reading, I must finish by acting." -Henry David Thoreau

Friday, May 18, 2012

Stranger than [fan]Fiction


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

No comments:

Post a Comment