50 Shades of Dismay

Porn by another other name . . .

I have not read 50 Shades of Gray. This is no great moralistic stance on my part, I’m just being practical. I read the plot synopsis of the book, and some reviews and blogs about it. I visited the author’s website, and skimmed over a couple of online chapters. So I get it. I’m something of a natural speed-reader anyway.

As for the movie, I think I’ll pass on that, too. When you live as long as I have, you realize life is short, and there’s no point in sitting through two hours of something that took you ten seconds to figure out. I’ve seen hundreds of other movies and know there are only so many things that can happen. For me, a movie preview is like a Reader’s Digest condensed book. Unless the film has something else to offer—good writing, exceptional acting, a favorite star—there’s no reason for me to waste my time seeing it. I took a chance on Silver Linings Playbook, hoping against hope that every last predictable and overdone plot device would not transpire, so I learned my lesson for good. 

Pornography is defined as that which is purely sexual in content, without any redeeming social, artistic or educational value. From what I have read of 50 Shades, I would classify it pornography. This label does not automatically connote condemnation in my mind. But beneath some crafty plot devices, it seems to me to be about nothing but sex. Or more to the point, orgasms. And even more to the point, a fair amount of cunilingus, which is described with a kind of instruction manual eye for detail—and which leads to more orgasms. So does the bondage, discipline, sadism and masochism. All roads lead to Rome, so to speak. I do not see any social, artistic or educational value in any of it. It’s a high-rent version of “plumber calls on housewife to fix her pipes.” 

I will say this for 50 Shades. The excerpts I looked over technically were not as poorly written as critics told me to expect. If not great literature, the prose moves and flows, and the narrator has a definite and empathic voice. If it seems “clunky” to some readers, perhaps it is because the constant pornography comes as a never-ending jolt, a constant stumbling block. Some readers may not be used to so much porn in a “respectable” bestseller that ends with marriage and a family.

Also, in terms of what is this world coming to and so on, 50 Shades is not the first big bestseller to be considered scandalous, or for that matter pronounced less than stellar prose. Novels such a Peyton Place and Valley of the Dolls sold millions of copies to the dismay of moralists—as well as literary critics—though today they read as tame stuff.  Fellow Baby Boomers may recall guilty pleasure with bestselling authors such as Harold Robbins or Irving Wallace. Even a relatively good writer like John O’Hara held a questionable place in arts and letters, the jury split as to whether his books were true literature or trash for snobs. 

There often is a problem with translating novels into film, common though the practice may be. It is hard to capture on film an author’s universe. In a book, less is often more. From what I’ve gathered, Christian Gray on the written page is a kind of blank slate onto which women can impose their own interpretations and fantasy. His opaque quality is part of his mystery and appeal. And narrator Anastasia Steele comes across as constantly in awe for all that is happening to her. She doesn’t want all of it, but then most if not all novels have a protagonist who does things that are unexpected or not sought out. 

There has been some outcry about the novel presenting a distorted image of sexual fantasy between two consenting adults. Because much of what happens to Anastasia is nothing she consents to. She is in fact socially isolated, manipulated and bullied. In so many words, it’s been argued that the story is domestic violence trying to pass itself off as romance with steamy sex. 

But as sometimes happens, the film is causing more of a stir than the novel. Reading about something can be less jarring than seeing it. On film, Anastasia and Christian must come across as believable human beings with motivation for why they do what they do. Judging by the reviews I’ve read, the film does not succeed in accomplishing this. That Christian is rich, sometimes protective of Anastasia or is good with kids does not account for much on the big screen. The audience knows what it sees; there is not the same ambiguity as on the written page. And when you’re not inside someone’s head and heart—as a reader is with a novel—even the orgasms lack gravity. In so many words, critics are saying that the film doesn’t even work as a piece of porn, and apparently is not even campy, so-bad-it’s-good fun. All that is left is the abuse, which among other things does not seem to make dramatic sense.

I have read numerous feminist criticisms of the film, and if you have not already heard there is an active boycott of the movie. People are invited to donate $50 to their local women’s shelter instead of buying two movie tickets, a couple of soft drinks and a tub of popcorn for that same fifty bucks. (Plus it’s fifty, get it?) If you are so inclined and you don’t know where your nearest women’s shelter is, you can look it up on the Internet or contact your local public library or police department. 

As a social scientist, I am aware of how abusive relationships are defined. Based on this, I have to agree that 50 Shades is about an abusive relationship. There are, though, a few things not being mentioned in the critiques I’ve read that I think also are discussion worthy. 

At the most basic level, this novel was written by a woman, and this seems to me to be not a small elephant in the room. Had a man written the same book, I’m sure many words would’ve been spent as to what sort of infantile psycho pig would write such a thing. 

Also, some 100 million women around the world responded to this book favorably. Does this mean that these women are latent or practicing sexual masochists? I would guess no. First of all, sexual fantasy, like other forms of fantasy, usually does not translate into actual behavior. Virtually anything can be eroticized. But I do think that a look into the BDSM world may tell us some other things about how some women apparently feel about themselves.

There are numerous theories about why people turn to S & M. Practitioners of this lifestyle often say that they like the security they get from the lack of uncertainty. The sex roles are clearly defined; each party knows exactly what the other wants, and the emotions that are involved. Technically, even husband/wife missionary position involves role-play of a sort, so more exotic sex games can be seen as an extension of this. Perhaps there are a lot of women and yes men out there who do not know how to express or explore sexual desire, or what should be communicated through it. 

Another thing one hears from studies about S & M is that while the master may seem in charge, it is the submissive partner who gets most of the attention. If it is true that children sometimes disobey just to get noticed, perhaps adults do something similar. Women who enjoy 50 Shades may not want to get whipped and chained in real life, but they respond to the sheer attention Anastasia receives. She is an abused women, as opposed to a neglected one. If one falls for the story, she is the obsession of a handsome billionaire who seems to need mothering and who performs great oral sex. And did I mention that he’s rich? (He also had experience as a submissive in a previous relationship, which can make the whole thing seem “fair.”)    

Folk wisdom has it that only sensitive men perform oral sex on a woman, which 50 Shades exposes as ludicrous. Still, the graphically tender way in which Christian caresses her body suggests that there are many unfulfilled women out there. As a trade-off for this great sex, Anastasia must submit to unwelcome bondage and pain, but according to her it is worth it. And did I mention he’s rich? 

But in all seriousness, the critiques I have read curiously do not dwell on or even mention the “O” word or the “C” word.  As is true of virtually all pornography, the ultimate sexual satisfaction is depicted as worth whatever bother was required to get there. Sometimes politics makes strange bedfellows, and both radical feminists and Christian conservatives often rant about pornography. Yet both groups bypass this basic point about porn—people are depicted as having orgasms. And people watch it or read it to likewise feel aroused. 

In the real world, people of whatever gender or lifestyle may put themselves through all sorts of ordeals just to achieve those fleeting seconds of sexual satisfaction. With each new generation, there is less sentiment associated with sex, and finding it is more important to millions of people than finding love. The many roads to sexual Shangri-La need to become better integrated into discussions about pornography. Otherwise, well-meaning anti-porn folks will continue to be perceived by their critics as old-fashioned, uptight and lacking humor—people who are anti-orgasm.   

One of the frequently asked questions on the author’s website is if there is a real Christian Gray, and if so how to meet him. But it would seem that these women are less interested in becoming Anastasia Steele. They think they can have the one without becoming the other. 

So maybe what we can glean from all this is that many women feel emotionally and sexually adrift and neglected. They do not feel that they are made love to, or that their partners have much tenderness or understanding of a woman’s needs. Cohabitating or single, they do not have a man’s attention, which obviously is more important to some women than others. That the possibility persists that these problems can be solved through an abusive relationship is highly problematic, and it also reveals something about the misperception of many women’s lives. These misperceptions come from Hollywood, the media, and of course men. But they also come from women themselves.