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Month: May 2012

50 Shades of Grey Chapter Ten recap or “Hot and Cold Running Dick”

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Good [insert time of day where you are so this seems like a very specific to you alone greeting] everyone! Before we dive into the recap, I want to let you guys know that the Name Chedward’s Penis contest is indeed going to happen. I’ve been in the process of rounding up prizes, and some great authors like Michelle M. Pillow, Mandy Roth, Billy London, Bronwyn Green and Leigh Ellwood have offered up books for the winner or winners, so keep your eyes peeled and your penis names on the tip of your tongue.

Wait, that… that didn’t sound right at all.
I’m thinking that since it’s so late in the week, the contest rules will post on Monday, with the contest running from Monday through Friday. I’m still a little murky on how the competition will go, so the weekend will give me time to ponder things out. Please note, I’m taking Friday off. The chapter 11 recap will post on Monday.
Okay, so when we last left 50 Shades of Grey, it had turned into American Pie. Christian Grey’s mom was about to walk in him having sex with a girl, omg. The idea of a parent walking in when you’re doing it should really only be horrifying if you’re a teenager. He’s an adult. He’s in his own house. His mother has entered his own house with out invitation. His mother is the interloper. So it only makes sense for the scene to play out with maturity.
Welcome, to the first line of Chapter Ten:

He pulls out of me suddenly. I wince. He sits up on the bed and throws the used condom in a wastebasket.

 Christian tells Ana to get up and get dressed, she’s about to meet his mother. Only, Ana can’t get up, because her hands are still bound by this tie, and she needs Christian to help her. I’m enjoying the tie-as-super-strong-rope thing even more after this past weekend, when I watched my husband continually fight to keep the knot in the tie he was wearing – just as a regular old tie and not a bondage accessory – from coming undone at the slightest provocation while we attended a wedding. I’m also thinking that if Christian Grey tied his silk tie around Ana’s wrists tight enough that she can’t slip free pretty easily, he’s just ruined that tie. Christian puts on his jeans without underwear and Ana exclamation points like she’s never heard of going commando. Since Ana has no clean clothes, she suggests she stay in the bedroom, since his mother “practically walked in on us in flagrante delicto.” It’s pretty hilarious that Ana knows “in flagrante delicto” but not “fellatio”, but hey, she’s not a Latin major.

If you follow me on twitter, you are probably aware that I love puns. Love ’em. They’re such a source of happiness in my life, I kind of want to have another child, just to name him Pun McPunnerson. And then I remember how much it sucks to be pregnant and how much kids cost and the fact that my husband always shoots down all the names I like until we give up and name our kids after television characters or one of the Beatles. But I love puns.

I lose my train of thought. Will I ever get used to looking at this beautiful man?
His beauty is derailing.

She loses her train of thought, because his beauty derails it. Bravo. Well done.

Chedward goes to calm his mother down (because it’s totally normal for a mom to be outraged at the idea of her adult son having sex and not at all creepy and smothering) while leaving Ana behind to get dressed and think about how awesome it will be to meet the mother of the guy who wants you to sign a bunch of paperwork to fuck him.

Holy shit. Christian’s mother. This is so much more than I bargained for. Perhaps meeting her will help put a little part of the jigsaw in place. Might help me understand why Christian is the way he is… Suddenly, I want to meet her. I pull my shirt off the floor, and I’m pleased to discover it has survived the night well with hardly any creases. I find my blue bra under the bed and dress quickly. But if there’s one thing I hate, it’s not wearing clean panties.

If there is one thing she hates.
ONE.
THING.
I’m practically rolling at this point. If there’s one thing she hates? IF? Ana, you hate everything. There isn’t any if about it, and “one thing” is such an incredible understatement that I’m not sure numbers have any real value or meaning anymore. That’s what that sentence does.  But I get where she’s coming from, because if there is one thing I hate about this book (do you see what I did there?) it’s the way Ana seems to find enjoyment of BDSM a symptom of some larger mental problem. Yeah, you better run on out there and meet his mother, so you can understand why he wants to cane you. We get another whole paragraph of Ana complaining about her hair and mentally calling herself a ho, because all sex is dirty nasty bad, but it’s Christian who has some kind of problem.

Ana goes into the living room, where she meets Christian’s mother:

The sandy-haired woman beside him turns and beams at me, a full megawatt smile. She stands too. She’s impeccably attired in a camel-colored fine knit sweater dress with matching shoes. She looks groomed, elegant, beautiful, and inside I die a little, knowing I look such a mess.

Why does Ana feel like she has to be the prettiest girl in the room? Oh, and it’s personal share time. My son’s name is actually Christian. That makes reading this book really hard. To pay me back for the mental anguish I’m experiencing, I’d like you to erase that description of Christian’s mother, and replace it with a lovely photo of myself. This one should do:

I don’t always dress like a pirate, but when I do, it’s because I just fucked Christian Grey. Arrgh.
Christian’s mom’s name is almost more ridiculous than Anastasia Rose Steele’s name. His mother is Grace Trevelyan-Grey. With a name like that, she better be searching for the Holy Grail with King Arthur’s Knights. Sir Trevelyan Grey is going to be a side character in a Covington Cross fanfiction I write someday, mark my words. Ana and Sir Treveylan get along splendidly, probably because Grace has been worried that her son is an American Psycho level sociopath until this time. Unfortunately, their meeting is interrupted by a phone call from Jose:

“Dios mio! Ana!” Holy crap, it’s Jose. He sounds desperate. “Where are you? I’ve been trying to contact you. I need to see you, to apologize for my behavior on Friday. Why haven’t you returned my calls?”

Um, because you sexually assaulted her? Off the top of my head. But Ana doesn’t say that, she just says it’s not a good time, and she’s in Seattle, and promises to call him back. Remember, this is the girl who fell head-over-heels for the guy who bought the Dexter starter pack right in front of her, so she doesn’t have a lot of self-preservation instincts. When she goes back to the living room, Christian’s mother, the Chevalier Trevelyn-Grey, is talking about how she wants to take Christian out to lunch. Christian turns her down, because he has to drive Ana back to Portland. Drive? Does the helicopter only go one way? After Christian’s mother leaves, this happens:

Christian glares at me.
“So the photographer called?”
Crap.
“Yes.”
“What did he want?”
“Just to apologize, you know – for Friday.”
Christian narrows his eyes.
“I see,” he says simply.

Moments before, Christian was upbeat and charming. Then Jose calls Ana – an action Ana herself has no control over – and suddenly, Christian is glaring at her? He then goes on to act snappy to an assistant on the phone, and becomes weirdly formal as he hands Ana an envelope with the sex contract in it. He advises her to read it and then do research on the internet to educate herself before signing. Considering she couldn’t look up his name on the internet before interviewing him and refused to even read the nondisclosure agreement he asked her to sign, are we really holding out hope that she’s going to research this at all? Ana realizes she can’t research the contract, because… wait for it… she doesn’t have a computer, or access to a computer. As the reader, I am expected to believe that Ana has somehow navigated through college without access to a computer? There are no computers at WSU? She mentions Kate’s laptop, but come the fuck on. A computer is basically a necessity for a college student these days. This is so blatantly unrealistic that I want to throw the book through my office window, but then I remember that it’s on loan, and the loaner actually wants it back for some reason.

Christian is basically done with Ana. He’s had sex with her, he’s been charming, now he apparently just wants her gone, because from this point out, he acts like a total dick. And when Ana says she wants to make a phone call, he becomes a jealous, controlling total dick:

“The photographer?” His jaw clenches, and his eyes burn. I blink at him. “I don’t like to share, Miss Steele. Remember that.” His quiet, chilling tone is a warning, and with one long, cold look at me, he heads back to the bedroom.
Holy crap.  
I just wanted to call Kate, I want to call after him, but his sudden aloofness has left me paralyzed. What happened to the generous, relaxed, smiling man who was making love to me not half an hour ago?

You see this? You see this horseshit? Ladies, this is not how a man is supposed to make you feel. It’s not romantic. It’s manipulative and emotionally abusive. He’s withholding emotional intimacy because another man called her. She has no control over what other people do. She could not stop Jose from calling her. If a relationship starts out this way in real life, do you know how it ends? With a dead woman. But by all means, let’s keep fantasizing about this guy. He’s a fucking prize.

I was honestly almost too furious to continue reading this book once I got to this chapter. In fact, it was this chapter that led me to want to dissect the book piece by piece in the public eye. Because this shit is dangerous. This is dangerous the way I found Twilight dangerous in the last two books. It’s dangerous because it tells women, possibly young, innocent women who are just like Ana, that it’s okay for a man to treat you like garbage if he really, really loves you, or if you want him to really, really love you, you need to put up with it.

Ana doesn’t even really see anything wrong with his behavior, apart from the fact that she can’t talk to him about the amazing sex they had. So, rather than think, “This guy is clearly not for me,” she decides that she needs to find a way around the nondisclosure agreement so she can talk to Kate. He only grudgingly accepts that it might be okay for her to talk about sex with her best friend, but that’s after he threatens to fuck Ana in the elevator if she doesn’t stop biting her lip, so, you know… get used to that kind of treatment, if you sign the thing. But he warns her to keep her conversations with Kate pretty basic:

“She’d probably have my balls if she knew what I wanted to do to you,” he adds so softly I’m not sure I’m supposed to hear it.

No, that’s not a creepy thing to do at all, to quietly talk to yourself in the company of another person about all the socially taboo and slightly threatening things you want to do to that person. Not at all. Also not creepy?

“The sooner I have your submission the better, and we can stop all this,” he murmurs.
“Stop all what?”
“You, defying me.” He reaches down and cups my chin and plants a swift, sweet kiss on my lips as the doors to the elevator open. He grabs my hand and leads me into the underground garage.

Me, defying him… how?

Yeah, that’s what I want to know, too, Ana. How is she defying him? By not having the power to stop another human from dialing her phone? By wanting to talk about her personal life with her best friend, especially since she has questions about sex you don’t seem concerned with answering? Damn her, she’s nearly a blue stocking. Next thing you know, she’ll be demanding the vote and riding a bicycle! They go to Christian’s car, which is better than the last car I had to bitch about:

“It’s an Audi R8 Spyder. It’s a lovely day, we can take the top down. There’s a baseball cap in there. In fact there should be two.” He points to the glove box. “And sunglasses if you want to.”

Oh, are the ball caps for when you and your family go out in the woods to play super secret vampire baseball? Interestingly enough, remember when Ana borrows Kate’s car at the beginning of the book? It’s a Mercedes CLK. Quick, what car did Rosalie drive in the first Twilight movie? Bingo. So, I’m starting to get the Audi theme. In Twilight, the Cullens all drove Volvos. In this, Chedward drives Audi. They’re about parallel, I would say, in terms of quality and price and range of vehicles. But still, while this car is a little bit better, in terms of a really rich young guy owning it, wouldn’t he spring for something a little more expensive? Something more befitting a control freak who practically recites an ode to his penis while he waves it in a girl’s face? Actually, now that I’ve put it that way, he should be driving a Nissan 370Z coupe.

Once they’re on the road, there’s another reference to someone being hungry but not for food, and at this point that is becoming a recurring theme. I can’t wait for them to fight some more about how much Ana should be eating, and Christian’s obsessive need for her to clean her plate. When Ana says she’s not hungry, Christian decides they’re going to stop and eat in Olympia. When they get there, it’s another scene straight out of fucking Twilight:

The waitress takes our drinks order. She flushes when she sees Christian, avoiding eye contact with him, hiding under her long blonde bangs. She likes him! It’s not just me!

Christian orders them some wine, and when Ana tells him she’d prefer a soda, he just tells her that the wine will be fine, and when it comes she drinks it immediately because he’s Christian Grey and she’s going to do whatever he says, despite her earlier assertion that she’s not going to do anything she doesn’t want to do. The waitress comes back and acts bitchy because Christian doesn’t acknowledge her, and this is the second book she’s been in where this has happened. Then, because it makes good lunch conversation, Christian tells Ana about how he was “seduced” by one of his mother’s friends when he was fifteen. Let’s just all be on the same page here, that’s rape. Having sex with a fifteen year old is rape, because a fifteen year old cannot consent, at least, not to an adult.

“She had very particular tastes. I was her submissive for six years.” He shrugs.
“Oh.” My brain has frozen, stunned into inactivity by this admission.
“So I do know what it involves, Anastasia.” His eyes glow with insight.

Ah, so, this is a good advertisement for BDSM, right? “I’m into BDSM because I was raped by my mother’s friend for six years!” That makes it seem like part of a normal and healthy sex life, right? Ana asks if he ever had sex with anyone at college:

“I didn’t want to. She was all I wanted, needed. And besides, she’d have beaten the shit out of me.” He smiles fondly at the memory.

So,  Chedward has Stockholm syndrome. He couldn’t end his relationship with this woman, he couldn’t explore any other kind of sex during his teen years, he just had to learn to like rape. But we need to gloss over that for a minute, because Ana hasn’t eaten, so they have to argue about it. I’m guessing Chedward was an Italian grandmother in a past life, the way he obsesses over people eating. At least Ana realizes that Christian’s relationship with his mother’s friend was abusive, and that leads her to ask some questions of her own.

This is what it will be like if I sign, him ordering me around. I frown. Do I want this?
Reaching for my knife and fork, I tentatively cut into the venison. It’s very tasty.
“Is this what our err… relationship will be like?” I whisper. “You, ordering me around?” I can’t quite bring myself to look at him.
“Yes,” he murmurs.
“And what’s more, you’ll want me to,” he adds, his voice low.
I sincerely doubt that.

I sincerely doubt anyone would want to live with a man like Christian, dominant/submissive roles not withstanding. But he reassures her that he really wants this to work out, so he hopes she’ll sign the contract. Of course, he doesn’t want a relationship with her so badly that he’d condescend to skip the paperwork and maybe not get to order her around every minute of every day, from the clothes she wears to the food she eats. You know. Treat her like a human, instead of a doll. At least he’s monogamous in relationships, that’s a bonus, right?

They fight some more about how much Ana should eat, and it never gets old, let me tell you. Neither does the blushing and flushing as they set a dinner date for Wednesday night. They go back to her apartment, and Ana is “bereft” at having to leave Christian for a few days, but she tells him that she’s wearing his underwear and her inner goddess is super psyched. I wonder if Ana’s subconscious and her inner goddess like, hang out together in Ana’s head.

Did anyone else think it was weird that they had a character named Heddy on a show with the word “Head” in the title and she didn’t live inside Herman’s Head? Just me? Okay, carry on.

Inside the apartment, Kate is packing. Since she hasn’t seen or heard from Ana for like, a couple days, she asks how she is.

Crap… I have to deal with Kate’s persistence and tenacity, and I’m in possession of a legal signed document saying I can’t talk.

Okay, in the first place, be nicer to Kate, jackass. Second, Chedward told you that you could talk to Kate. Yeah, you can’t tell her about the “Red Room of Pain”, but you can tell her about the sex, and that should be enough to ease her curiosity, right? Kate then talks about orgasms like they’re something you train for – “Yeah, took almost a year to have my first orgasm through penetrative sex and here you are… first time?” – and counsels Ana to not worry about the differences between her and Christian, she should just go for it. That’s nice, but I bet it won’t last. Kate has run hot and cold about Christian and Ana from the start. Interestingly enough, Ana is actually hungry now that she’s not with someone who commands her to eat all the time. While she’s cooking, Jose calls:

“Ana, you’re back!” Jose shouts his relief at me.
“Obviously.” Sarcasm drips from my voice, and I roll my eyes at the phone.

Ana, he can’t see you.

He’s silent for a moment.
“Can I see you? 

No, damnit, Jose, we just covered this!

I’m sorry about Friday night. I was drunk… and you… well. Ana- please forgive me.”
“Of course, I forgive you Jose. Just don’t do it again. You know I don’t feel like that about you.”
He sighs heavily, sadly.

Okay, Jose, what did you think you were going to get out of this phone call? Obviously, he thought Ana was going to be all, “When you forced yourself on me, I finally understood that we’re meant to be together.” Then he accuses her of being into Christian Grey because she’s a gold digger. I’m guessing from the characterization of Jose/Jacob that E.L. James is Team Edward, then?

The chapter spirals off into Ana’s musings on the “love” triangle she’s caught in between Chedward and Joceb. It’s pretty obvious that she’s going to end up with Chedward, though, because after one mention of Jose wanting something from her, she’s back to Christian, thinking about him and everything that’s gone on, and she comes up with yet another stellar Anastasia Steele all-or-nothing choice:

If I’d not met him, I’d still be sweetly and blissfully oblivious. My mind drifts to last night, and this morning… and the incredible sensual sexuality I’ve experienced. Do I want to say goodbye to that? No! Screams my subconscious… my inner goddess nods in silent zen-like agreement with her.

Oh my god, I knew it! I knew they hung out in there! Basically, Ana seems to think that if she doesn’t agree to be Christian’s sex doll, she’ll never have any sex ever again. That’s a healthy way to deal with it, right? She keeps thinking about how she’s faced with this choice, but as we’ve already seen, Ana never has any choices. She says yes to everything. So, pretending she has some control over her life, she sits down and opens the sex contract envelope. End of chapter ten.

The Beauty of The Double Standard

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I really hate to keep bringing up the GoodReads controversy, but I find that in some ways, coincidences spur you on to greater things. Like, this one time when I really wanted to go to a gay bar, but also I wanted to go to a strip club, and I ended up going to a gay bar that was also a strip club. Or, when something awesome happens to prove my point about something really important.

During this whole GoodReads thing, several people pointed out (and thank you for doing so) that it seems like only female authors are expected to be nice to each other. Male authors can say whatever they want about their fellow writers, they can write satire, they can express their opinions, and it’s all fine. There are some spectacularly douchey male authors out there (not the one I mention later in this post, he’s totally cool and non-douchey, from what I understand), but it’s okay, because they have penises, and that makes their opinions important. If a female writer passes judgement on a fellow writer, it’s due to jealousy, a desire to self-promote on the back of another author’s success, and shallow, catty envy.

Now, check out this link: “A satirist goes for non-too-subtle shading” It’s a story from the New York Times about Andrew Shaffer, a reviewer for Romantic Times and an author in his own right, who wrote a soon-to-be-released parody of 50 Shades of Grey. Okay, I think this guy is awesome. So, when I point out a few things, it’s going to seem kind of harsh, or like I’m saying I don’t agree with his right to do this. That is not the case, he has just as much right to poke fun at a cultural phenomenon as anyone does. I don’t begrudge him the fact that he’s making money off it. After all, didn’t E.L. James also make money off someone else’s book? So, for the record, I am a big fan of Andrew, aka Evil Wylie, and I think this book is going to be great. Still, let’s break this down: I was accused of jealously trying to hook my money-gobbling wagon to E.L. James’s star, because I’m blogging here about 50 Shades of Grey. Andrew Shaffer, who I will presume identifies as a man based on name and dress, writes a book lampooning 50 Shades and is paid actual money to do so and yet I see only one instance on the book’s GoodReads page where he’s being accused of mean-spirited envy. Not, you know, two hundred-ish comments where he’s lambasted and assigned shady motivations. And I’m pretty sure no one is down voting Peter Shaffer’s plays in retaliation.

Again, I’m super psyched for Andrew Shaffer, I think it’s going to be a hilarious book, and I highly encourage everyone to make fun of 50 Shades of Grey because it is re-damn-diculous. And thank you, universe. Thank you for the beautiful gift of throwing the double standards in male and female author behavior into razor sharp relief.

50 Shades of Grey Chapter Nine Recap or “I’m back like a mysterious rash”

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Previously, on 50 Shades:

Damnit.

First, I want to thank everyone for their support during the weirdness this weekend. Let me stress again, I was never considering stopping just because of complaints. That’s not my style. It’s one of my “hard limits”. Also, I know this didn’t get posted “bright and early” as I promised, but my daughter had a field trip to the bird sanctuary and I’ll be damned if I’m going to miss the opportunity to step in goose shit with a bunch of three year olds just to update my silly little blog.
A few things to keep in mind as we plunge forward, withdraw, and plunge forward again in these recaps:
  • From here on out, these are probably all going to be even more NSFW.
  • If you’re reading via GoodReads.com, you’re probably reading some messed up formatting. Come join the properly formatted post at my blog.
  • Abed is Batman now.

Ana wakes up in Christian’s bed, beside Christian.

It’s a beautiful May morning. Seattle at my feet. Wow, what a view. Beside me, Christian Grey is fast asleep. Wow, what a view.

Please click here.

Christian is gorgeous, even asleep. Ana thinks he looks younger. I think, “Younger than twenty-seven?” I remember when I thought twenty-seven was ancient, too, Ana. And then she thinks he looks like a small child, so, you know. Let’s continue with that theme I was enjoying so much. Ana really enjoys Christian being asleep, because, “I don’t have to worry about what I’m saying, what he’s saying, what plans he has, especially his plans for me.” You know, I get her comparison to small children now, because I feel the same way about my kids when they’re asleep. Only, I’m less verbose about it. Silent, actually, because it’s hard to talk when you’re chugging back a bottle of White Zin.

I could gaze at him all day, but I have needs – bathroom needs. Slipping out of bed, I find his white shirt on the floor and shrug it on. I walk through a door thinking that it might be the bathroom, but I’m in a vast walk-in closet as big as my bedroom. Lines and lines of expensive suits, shirts, shoes, and ties. How can anyone need this many clothes? I tut with disapproval. Actually, Kate’s wardrobe probably rivals this. Kate! Oh no. I didn’t think about her all evening. I was supposed to text her. Crap. I’m going to be in trouble.

I’d like to say Ana peed in his closet. I’d like to say that.

I like how Ana’s judgmental programs are online from the moment her feet hit the ground. She’s like a Terminator, but one that just tuts disapprovingly at things, as opposed to shooting at them with lasers. It’s like any time there is an opportunity to take a bite out of Kate, Ana is on it. She has more clothes than a millionaire! That proves she’s evil! You know, maybe he would have more clothes if he didn’t spend so much money on kidnapping sex supplies. Just a thought.
Ana finds the bathroom, which is also “bigger than her bedroom”. I’m glad Ana isn’t a structural engineer: “How long are those support beams supposed to be again?” “Longer than my bedroom, but shorter than my living room!” Ana checks herself out in the mirror. She feels sore, her muscles are all worn out, and her subconscious is in a mood, let me tell you:

She’s staring at me with pursed lips, tapping her foot. So you’ve just slept with him, given him your virginity, a man who doesn’t love you. In fact, he has very odd ideas about you, wants to make you some sort of kinky sex slave.

 ARE YOU CRAZY? She’s shouting at me.

Okay, this right here, this is not going to be a criticism of the book. This is just a general question, and if anyone wants to weigh in on it, feel free to jump at it in the comments. Why do we talk about the “giving” and “taking” of virginity? Like it’s a tangible object than passes from hand to hand? I don’t understand it, but it’s definitely in the parlance of our society. The woman “gives” and the man “takes”. I’ve always hated that. I don’t feel like I gave anything away when I lost my virginity. I feel like I shared an experience. But then again, the kid who punched my v-card was also a virgin, so maybe in that case we just swapped virginities. I don’t know. But I really hate the give/take terminology.

Meanwhile, back on the ranch, Ana starts to consider everything that’s happened in the past twenty-four hours, but then she just gives up and starts complaining about her hair. She goes to get some hair ties and finds three texts from Kate, all wondering where she is. I’m wondering how Kate doesn’t understand the concept of sleeping over a man’s house. They’re what, twenty-one, twenty-two?

Remember the complaints I’ve had all along about Ana thinking of sexuality in some way, then immediately thinking of being childlike? Ana laments the fact that “just fucked” hair doesn’t look good on her, so she puts her hair up in… wait for it… pig tails. Her thinking? “Yes! The more girly I look, perhaps the safer I’ll be from Bluebeard.” I would say that this line, and the character’s actions, affirm my suspicion that Ana is sexually immature and unable to confront her own desires in a way that would allow her to consent to Christian’s arrangement. She sees herself as a victim of Christian’s sexuality, casting him as Bluebeard now, because we’ve apparently abandoned Tess of The D’Urbervilles as a literary theme. As Bluebeard’s thematically innocent young wife, she has no recourse to refuse him.

You know what movie uses Bluebeard as a really effective metaphor? The Piano. If you’ve never seen it, stop reading this recap and go watch it.

So, hair in pigtails, wearing Christian’s shirt, listening to her iPod turned up impossibly high, Ana dances her way around his kitchen and just makes herself at home, setting out to make pancakes and bacon. She applauds herself for managing to sleep in Christian’s bed, “even though he doesn’t let anyone in his bed. I smile, mission accomplished. Big time.” So, even though he’s made it clear that he’s not looking for a traditional relationship, this right here tells me that she thinks she’s going to be the woman to change him. She even goes so far as to remind herself that it wasn’t “making love,” but “fucking” (hard) that happened the night before, but then decides to ignore that. This is all following a really healthy path of open communication, right? Christian is sleeping away in the other room, secure in the fact that he’s made the nature of their relationship clear to her, and she’s wearing his clothes and playing house. By the way, this is a scene that is playing out every Saturday morning on every college campus ever. Except Christian is a married English prof and he doesn’t have a sex dungeon so much as a one-bedroom apartment he’s staying in while he “figures things out” and “works on his novel”.

Ana thinks about how she’s a misfit and Christian is also a misfit, and I think, “the word you’re looking for is misanthrope, not misfit.” Then she turns around and quelle surprise! like we didn’t all see it coming, Christian Grey has been sitting there, watching her for some time. Probably thinking, “Okay… I need to get her out of here like, yesterday.”

Oh, and he looks gorgeous so Ana flushes. I thought by now that was probably a given, but I should mention it in case y’all have short term memory loss.

After some morning chatter, he pulls her pigtail and says, “They won’t protect you.”  Well, that’s not… threatening. Ana asks how he’d like his eggs, and he replies, “Thoroughly whisked and beaten,” because while some men get morning erections, Christian Grey wakes with a major hard-on for puns. There is a fair amount of back-and-forth flirting in this section, but honestly, it’s so impossibly tangled up with the most clinical and boring descriptions of cooking bacon and eggs than I just cannot bring myself to spork it.

“Just how sore are you?” he asks as he sits down. His gray eyes dark.
I flush.
Why does he ask such personal questions?
“Well to be truthful, I have nothing to compare this to,” I snap at him. “Did you wish to offer your commiserations?” I ask too sweetly.

Ana responds to another person’s consideration with pissery, as is her wont. Seriously, Ana, do you want to be with a guy who isn’t going to ask you how you’re feeling? Especially when he wants to dominate you and involve pain-play at some point in the future? Or would you prefer an inconsiderate jerk who just doesn’t give a shit if you’re in agony? Christian is so considerate of her, he suggests she stay to continue her “training”, but nothing that’ll disrupt her saddle sore:

“Well, as you’re sore, I thought we could stick to oral skills.” I choke on my tea, and I stare at him, eyes wide and gaping. He pats me gently on the back and passes me some orange juice.

So, the first thing we’re going to work on is your gag reflex, then? Then, he asks if she wants to stay, and promises to get her home in time for work at nine the next day. When she says she needs to go home and get clean clothes, he tells her they can buy some, and when she says she’d really prefer to be home that evening, his mouth goes into a “hard line”. Control freak much? You brought her by helicopter, you told her she could leave at any time. Now she’s all, “I’d rather not spend the entire weekend with you after we just slept together the first time,” and you’re disappointed in her? Christian, Christian, Christian. If you could see her internal monologue, you’d see her leaving tonight as a good thing. It’s less time for her to monogram your towels against your will.

They argue about food again. Every single time there is food in a scene with them, he forces her to clean her plate. I assume this is foreshadowing. Either that, or he reminds me of when one of my friends is on a diet, and then all our other friends insist she just try a cookie. Kate calls while Christian is clearing up the dishes:

“Ana, why didn’t you text last night?” She’s angry.
“I’m sorry, I was overtaken by events.”
“You’re okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine.”
“Did you?” She’s fishing for information.

She’s not really fishing, so much as asking outright if you slept with him. But Ana can’t say a thing, because she signed a legal document saying she wouldn’t say a thing. Ana decides the best way to get around the non-disclosure is to ask if she’s allowed to talk to Kate, in a strictly sex-ed kind of way. Christian tells her that if she has sex questions, she can ask him, but Ana thinks, “I can’t ask you. I’ll get your biased, kinky-as-hell distorted world-view regarding sex.” So, again, clearly this is a person who can give fully informed consent.

They go to the bathroom to take a bath together, and Christian tells her for the second time this chapter to stop biting her lip. Let’s add that to the drinking game, shall we? Not every time she bites her lip, just every time he tells her to stop biting her lip, because it’s turning him on so damned much.  We also get another description of how desire feels “down there.” Then they get into the bath.

He stands back to gaze at me. I’m naked for heaven’s sake. I flush crimson and stare down at my hands, level with the base of my belly, and I desperately want to disappear into the hot water and foam.

Okay, last night you were all, “Fuck my mouth,” and today being naked in front of him is too much. She really fixates on their nakedness in this scene, like she can’t believe that they’re both naked, together. Even though they had sex twice the night before and she just served him bottomless breakfast. But it’s shocking that they’re naked in the bathtub? I wonder what kind of baths Ana usually takes. Full wet suit? Christian masturbates Ana with a washcloth, but leaves her hanging at the crucial moment to direct attention to his penis. Ain’t that just like a man?

“I want you to become well acquainted, on first name terms if you will, with my favorite and most cherished part of my body. I’m very attached to this.” It’s so big and growing. His erection is above the water line, the water lapping at his hips. I glance up at him and come face to face with his wicked grin. He’s enjoying my astounded expression. I realized that I’m staring. I swallow. That was inside me! It doesn’t seem possible.

 You probably already know what line I was going to quote, just from the picture, right?

Hey. If she’s supposed to be on a first-name basis with your cock, you should probably tell her what you named it. It’s just manners.

I think I should run some kind of contest, some kind of “name Chedward’s penis” contest. I’ll have to think up what the prizes would be. Stay tuned, because that’s coming up, I promise.

Ana starts to give Christian a soapy handy-j, and then this happens:

Fuck my mouth… hmmm.  I remember him pushing his thumb in my mouth and asking me to suck, hard. His mouth drops open slightly as his breathing increases. I lean forward, while he has his eyes closed, and place my lips around him and tentatively suck, running my tongue over the tip.

“Whoa… Ana.” His eyes fly open, and I suck harder.

Hmm… he’s soft and hard at once, like steel encased in velvet, and surprisingly tasty – salty and smooth.

What about soapy, Ana? Because you didn’t wash the soap off. Look, I’m not trying to over share here, but can I just speak as the voice of experience and say that 1) I’ve heard a lot of guys say that the soapy handy-J seems like a great idea… until you get soap in your urethra, and 2) if you’re going to turn it around into a blowy, you want to be damn good and sure you got all the soap off. But this is a fantasy, as I have been reminded so often in the past few days, so I just have to let that slide. But please, we get that Ana is sheltered and innocent and all that, but are we really supposed to believe that she doesn’t know about oral sex and she’s come up with the idea for a bj all on her own just because he put a thumb in her mouth in the last sex scene. Like, if he hadn’t done that, she would have had no idea what to do with a cock at mouth level? I’m not buying it. Of course, she’s an expert right out of the gate:

Hmm… I pull him deeper into my mouth so I can feel him at the back of my throat and then to the front again. My tongue swirls around the end. He’s my very own Christian Grey flavor popsicle. I suck harder and harder, pushing him deeper and deeper, swirling my tongue round and round. Hmm… I had no idea giving pleasure could be such a turn-on, watching him writhe subtly with carnal longing. My inner goddess is doing the merengue with some salsa moves.

Based solely on the number of times Ana says “Hmm…” in this scene, I’m conjuring up a mental picture of her inner goddess, and I’d like to share it with you now:

Thank you for sharing this moment with me. It is truly magical.
Speaking of horrible flavors for popsicles, you know how else I can tell this was a Twilight fanfic? Because while Christian Grey’s penis should be warm and not call to mind a popsicle, Edwards would be cold and perfect for that analogy. Also? Writhing isn’t really a subtle movement at all, especially when you’ve got some chick’s head bobbing on your dick. Christian tells Ana that this is the moment, and if she doesn’t want a mouthful she better stop. Ana decides to just keep going, and then, “in a moment of extraordinary confidence, I bare my teeth.”
NO.

But it seems Christian Grey is the rare specimen who actually likes a lady to use her teeth on his cock, because he blows his load in her mouth and she swallows like a pro. Christian is amazed at how awesome she is at oral, and of course she is, because she is the Mary Sue heroine of the story.

I long to reach round and embrace him… touch him… but he has my arms trapped in the towel. I’m soon lost in his kiss. He cradles my head, his tongue exploring my mouth, and I get a sense he’s expressing his gratitude – maybe – for my first blowjob?

Maybe he just likes the taste of his own spunk, you ever think of that? I don’t remember seeing “no snowballing” on his list of “hard limits”. Then, after kissing her breathless, he begs her to accept his proposed agreement, and Ana thinks, “He really wants this.” Well, she did just give him the perfect blowy-j. I’m surprised he’s not rushing her via private jet to Vegas to marry her. Truly, he is a man like no other. And that’s not even sarcasm.

After asking Ana to trust him – and come on, she clearly does, she came to your inner sanctum after she saw what you bought at the hardware store – Christian goes and gets the tie from the cover of the book. He uses it to tie her hands together, and then:

He runs his fingers down my pigtails.
“You look so young with these,” he murmurs and moves forward.

Ugh! Seriously! What is going on in this book? He puts her bound hands over her head and tells her not to move. Ana thinks, “This is not a man I want to cross… ever.” Remember what I said about her ability to consent? Fear creates a power imbalance. Where there is a power imbalance, consent becomes a tricky thing. This puts one more mark in my “Ana should not be in a BDSM relationship” column. Chedward tells her that he’s going to kiss her all over, and then her “heated blood pools low in my belly, between my legs, right down there. I groan.” So do I, Ana. So do I. To his credit, he really does kiss her all over, and over again, because every time she moves her hands, he starts from the beginning. Ana gets super embarrassed when it’s time to get to the main event, because he’s going to “kiss me there!” By all means, let’s continue with the coy use of “there” to indicate your fully adult woman parts, because childish prudery is absolutely not squicky at all when you’re already wearing pigtails and constantly referring to aspects of your sexuality as childlike. At least Christian decides that he likes her pubic hair, because honestly, I don’t know how I would feel if suddenly she’s shaved bare, with big tails, unable to properly name her private parts. I wonder if the sex room has a mock van-and-strangers’-candy set up, and we just haven’t seen it yet.
Even though earlier he was all concerned for her soreness, he fucks her, hard, and of course she’s totally into it, because all it takes is the right man to take a woman from virgin to veteran prostitute in two seconds.

I pull my tied hands over his neck and hold him the best I can. I know in that moment that I would do anything for this man. I am his.
The wonder that he’s introduced me to, it’s beyond anything I could have imagined. And he wants to take it further, so much further, to a place I can’t, in my innocence, even imagined.
Oh… what to do?

You should probably jump with both feet into an extreme BDSM lifestyle with this guy you barely know. I mean, he gave you an orgasm, right? In romance novel logic, that’s all that matters. Really, think about how many romances you’ve read where the hero treats the heroine like total crap, but he introduces her tender young body to the mysteries of love, so it’s totally cool. Like, 50% of the Smart Bitches’ first book covers exactly this phenomenon. So, I’m not really bashing 50 Shades here for following that formula. But I do think it’s a really bad idea for Ana to commit to a legally binding contract making her subject to Christian’s sexual desires from Friday to Sunday, like some really fucked up vagina custody agreement. Christian continues to pressure Ana, just moments post coital:

“See how good we are together,” he murmurs. “If you give yourself to me, it will be so much better. Trust me, Anastasia, I can take you places you don’t even know exist.”

 I’ll show her the world. Bitches love worlds.
But oh, wait! Plot twist!

“But if he’s still in bed, then he must be ill. He’s never in bed at this time. Christian never sleeps in.”
“Mrs. Grey, please.”
“Taylor. You cannot keep me from my son.”
“Mrs. Grey, he’s not alone.”
“What do you mean he’s not alone?”
“He has someone with him.”
“Oh…” Even I hear the disbelief in her voice.Christian blinks rapidly, staring down at me, wide-eyed with humored horror.“Shit! It’s my mother.”

Thanks, Christian. We didn’t get that from the part where she was like, “You cannot keep me from my son.” Unless Christian is afraid Ana is going to think he’s married and he’s got a baby in a car seat in the closet, like in The Hangover.

Actually, that would be pretty funny. I wish the chapter would have ended that way.

A decision on 50 Shades…

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So, I’ve spent the better part of the last two days in a constant state of combined anger, offense, and just general “oh my god, people are talking about me, and I don’t know how to handle it” stress. I want to make it clear that just someone saying, “shut up, I don’t like what you’re saying,” would never stop me from speaking my mind. That has never been the issue here. What was the issue was that another author was getting caught in the crossfire.

I think now, though, it’s pretty clear that I am Jennifer ArmINtrout, author of books written for a mostly adult audience, in an adult genre, and not a similarly named author who writes fiction for Young Adults. I’ve tweeted, I’ve blogged, I’ve done what I can to clear up the confusion, and I think that at this point the people who still don’t get it will never get it. I assume these are the same people who confuse Steve Martin with Steve Martini and Anne Rice with Luanne Rice. Sometimes, there is just no educating people.
So, with that in mind, chapter nine will post tomorrow. It’s your prerogative as a reader whether or not my abominable behavior will influence your buying habits. I can’t control you, you can’t control me, so long as we’re both clear on this, things should be nothin’ but a field of daisies from here on out, right?
See y’all bright and early tomorrow, since I’ve been kicked out of the Sunshine Sisterhood anyway and my mornings are free.