Fifty Shades of Fucked Up

Lest the title I have given this post convince you that I am taking an non-nuanced approach to my topic, allow me, first, to point out that the play on the book’s title is a self-applied epithet as it comes from the novel itself (page 269). Allow me, secondly, to explain my complicated journey with Fifty Shades of Grey.

When I first became aware of the book’s existence, I politely kept my distance. I knew that E L James and I would not see eye to eye about sexuality and feminism, but I also knew that my major qualms were not with her but with the larger rape culture. She, her book, and maybe even Christian Grey probably have their merit, I reasoned, just not my choice of fiction or sexual expression.

Then Christian Grey became, as he is in the novel, stalkerish. He keeps appearing everywhere, unbidden by me, and it is oppressive.

For example, he is on half of the subway ads in any given station, on three out of four cabs that pass, in my Spotify commercials, on Valentine’s Day merchandise, and he comes up in conversation when I don’t want him to. On one occasion I was talking with a male acquaintance and several female ones when the discussion turned to the dress that one of us was wearing. “You know what that dress makes me think of?” asked the man. The dress was a halter top with a kind of sash around the neck. “It makes me think of when you’re having sex with a girl and you just grab her from behind and choke her.” Our conversation had not involved anything to do with the movie or BDSM. Christian Grey had snuck up, uninvited.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” I asked. I had previously thought this guy was a very kind, respectful person. He did not know me or any of the other women in the conversation well at all, and all of the other women were young, from 14 to 18.

“Oh, come on, don’t act all innocent. I know you like that shit. All women like it. That Fifty Shades of Grey is fucking everywhere. And all the women are like, ‘I love Fifty Shades of Grey, I love Fifty Shades of Grey…'”

That is when I first began to feel less polite toward E L James. I know that this man’s comments do not reflect the most robust of critical thinking skills, but at the same time, it does not require a large logical leap to see an explosion of ads for the movie and conclude that it must be approved of and endorsed by a majority of women. Thus, not only am I mad at the asshole who didn’t think before he made an un-analyzed generalization and thereby gave one more sexist message to the teenage women in his company, I am also mad at whatever machine that is causing the film and its marketing to be ubiquitous and inescapable. In a sexist world in which sexual assault is minimized, victims are blamed, and violence is the texture of too many women’s lives, it is irresponsible. There are many complicated problems with Fifty Shades of Grey that are causing important discussions in several corners. Here, I just want to point out three problems with the novel’s and film’s apparent popularity. These are: what Fifty Shades generalizes, what it connects to but does not address, and what it replaces.

I discovered in that unpleasant conversation with my male acquaintance that the ubiquitousness of Fifty Shades persuades uncritical minds that conflating sex with violence is universally acceptable, and that all women deep down want to be dominated. The fact that the book and its movie are so widely heralded is understandably confusing to many people who were under the impression that women prefer to be treated as equals. With Beyoncé—who last August declared herself a feminist—singing on the movie’s soundtrack, the message is murky but persistent: this is how women, even feminist women, want to be treated by their partners. The apparent tremendous popularity of Fifty Shades generalizes a particular BDSM predilection—and not even an accurate representation of it, I am told—to “all women,” making it seem that we all secretly want to be beaten and controlled. It has even convinced some women that this is what women are truly like, contrary to their own experience. After seeing the ads on three out of four cabs that pass, they begin to think, “maybe we really are like that and I am just the weirdo.” In reality, there are Hollywood players that stand to make money off of the film, and the overwhelming promotion reflects their interests rather than pure popularity of the book. Yes, many women read the book because they want to read about sex considered deviant by the mainstream. Yes, a percentage of those women do enjoy sex that involves domination and pain (a 1990 Kinsey Institute reports 5-10%). But by convincing men, society at large, and even women themselves that all women desire domination and violence inflicted on them, Fifty Shades has become a tool of patriarchy, indirectly perpetuating the idea that women are naturally submissive and domination and violence are appropriate ways to interact with us.

Apart from giving the impression that all women prefer their sex the way Anastasia Steele likes hers, Fifty Shades also perpetuates society’s tendency to dismiss certain serious issues impacting women by mentioning them but not fully addressing them. Anyone who has spent some time considering patriarchy cannot help but notice that many aspects of it arise in the novel. Miss Steele herself observes some of them. One is the eerie similarity that the novel’s featured relationship bears to a domestic violence situation. As Grey furtively follows Steele around, expresses unreasonable jealously, controls every aspect of her life from what she wears to how she grooms, and of course literally beats her into submission both as punishment and for his own pleasure, his similarity to an abuser is hard to ignore. If James wanted to distinguish between him and domestic abusers, she should have been clear about the differences. By instead offering a picture of someone who abuses but sees no consequences, she contributes to the aspects of our culture that treat domestic violence as an inevitable and acceptable fact.

Another element of patriarchy is the cycle of abuse insinuated in the plot but not addressed. Fifty Shades implies that the eroticism that forms the book’s center comes out of Christian Grey’s own experience of sexual abuse as an adolescent, but instead of emphatically condemning his abuse and demonstrating how the relationship between Grey and Steele is different, it subtly glorifies that abuse by implying that it was the basis for the eroticism that he enjoys. In reality, abuse does not lead to a robust sexual reportoire. It is only when one heals from abuse that s/he can build a healthy relationship with sex. By superficially treating the topic of abuse, the novel in effect minimizes its seriousness, mirroring our sexist culture. Fifty Shades is irresponsible in its cursory and uncritical portrayal of issues that negatively impact women; it is ultimately dismissive of them by bringing them up without thoroughly addressing them.

Finally, the novel and film are problematic for what they replace. In a world where the popular imagination is much more eager to condemn “Jackie” than to condemn the presence of sexual assault on college campuses; where Janay Rice is questioned as to what she did to deserve to be knocked out in an elevator and dozens of other known abusers are still lauded as athletic heroes; where one in three women will experience sexual or domestic violence in her lifetime, we do not need to be bombarded with images of a man who controls and beats a woman and a woman who enjoys it. We need to be overwhelmed with images of women who fight patriarchy and win. We need our subway walls to be covered with images of survivors who turn into outspoken advocates. We need cabs to bear messages of equality between the sexes and the inherent worth of women. We need the NFL to give Super Bowl commercial spots to organizations that fight domestic violence without having to be shamed into it by a domestic violence scandal. We don’t need Fifty Shades of Grey Valentine’s Day themed parties; instead, our Valentine’s Day parties should be raising money for organizations that combat human trafficking. Until causes that fight sexual assault don’t have to beg for money, we shouldn’t be giving our money to a Hollywood machine that capitalizes on an image of a woman in submission to a violent and controlling man. I am not necessarily outraged that Fifty Shades of Grey exists, but I am outraged that it has eclipsed the images of hope and resistance that challenge misogyny in our culture. In a world still in the grips of patriarchy, bombard me with images of women enjoying lives of equal opportunity and safety, free from domination and violence; those are the images I need fifty times a day.

During the course of my complicated relationship with Fifty Shades, I have moved from courteous distance to critical, nuanced familiarity. After being unwillingly overwhelmed with images of the novel and film, I read the book in order to understand this cultural phenomenon. Doing so, I realize that those of us who dream of a better world for ourselves and our daughters have a lot to discuss. I celebrate the fact that there are a variety of sexual expressions, and Fifty Shades has offered an avenue of exploration to women who are curious about expressions considered deviant. Such curiosity and exploration is a good thing. But this book is not the most responsible forum for that exploration. Its popularity problematically generalizes a model of domination and violence that is not really desired by all women, and it commandeers air time and public space that could be used to lift women up and advance the cause of equality for all. By its own admission, Fifty Shades is fucked up. In a world that I’m sure we can all agree has enough fucked up things in it, we can do better.

Header image credit: Mike Mozart/Flickr