Fifty Shades of Grey

Fifty Shades of Grey


CAUTION: CONTAINS EXPLICIT LANGUAGE 
AND SEX REFERENCES


E.L. James' trilogy have taken the world by storm, topping numerous bestseller lists, and even replacing Bibles in one Cumbrian hotel.  The trilogy (Fifty Shades of Grey | Darker | Freed) was written with the intention of following on from the Twilight novels - themselves teen vampire movies about a complicated relationship between a heroine and her two supernatural suiters.

The reason why Fifty Shades is such an intriguing and all-pervading phenomenon, is that the subject matter of the novels is not  a character driven romantic series of novels about the developing relationship between the protagonists Ana and Christian.  Rather, the novels revolve around the Dominant/Subordinate relationship in a sado-masochistic relationship.  The books themselves are pornographic in content and gratuitous in detail.  One critic has suggested that these are Mills and Boon style novels for people who do not read Mills and Boon.  Needless to say, Fifty Shades has become the fastest and best selling adult novel of all time, there is a renewed focus and investment from bookstores and the film and sex industries, in kinky sex-fantasy fiction.

The novels tell the story of the accidental meeting of the multi-billionaire Christian Grey, and student Anastasia (Ana) Steele.  It is an initial meeting of lust at first sight, as Ana goes on a whistle-stop tour of sexual awakening and introduction into the world of S&M.  The second and third part of the trilogy develop their speedy relationship, and work patterns, as well as introducing a thriller twist which demonstrates that the protagonists are not quite as in control of life, pleasure and pain as their explicit exploits would perhaps indicate.

I agree with the journalist Zoe Williams who suggests that:

The need for a plot invites in some true gothic horror show and, stripped of his deviations, Christian Grey is just a controlling, unpleasant man whom, even 30 years ago, no sane heroine would ever have married.

The books are written in a short prose style, making them easy to read, but lacking in quality and beauty - and even, arguably, plot.  The characters are unsympathetically caricatured.  Grey's character is  more abusive than brooding, and his backstory of brokenness fails to ring true - despite his being a story of destitution to riches.  Ana's naivety fails to be the window for the reader.  The minor characters do not add the depth of texture that they could have done, and plot developments are signposted rather early into each novel.

But these novels are popular.  They are the subject of blog posts, conversations in staff rooms and workplaces, shorthand in comedy sketches and referenced in numerous articles and publications.  The books are prioritised on supermarket shelves and promoted on billboards. This surely makes them intriguing and important to engage with from a missional and sociological perspective.  In saying this, I do so cautiously.  I learnt far more than I ever wanted to learn about S&M, and read details about a couple's life that I cared little for (both in terms of the characters and the sexual revelations disclosed.)

This should not distract from the significant popularity and impact that this rekindled interest in erotica is having on a whole generation of female readers.

Martin Saunders has written this review of the Fifty Shades trilogy, recognising the ethical quandary of engaging in a novel that glorifies subordination and sexual deviance, suggests that there is also a deeper question at work - that of the cultural zeitgeist which provides a market for this sort of romantic erotic fiction:

Fifty Shades isn’t just massive, it’s mainstream. If we want to reach this culture relevantly with our story – the message of the gospel – then we need to understand this culture; to take time to listen to the stories that are being told, and to consider why they are finding resonance. Like it or not, Fifty Shades is 2012’s biggest literary sensation, and with publishers reportedly gearing up to release a slew of explicit fiction titles in its wake, we need to ask why this is happening.

 Zoe Williams, the Guardian columnist has gone some way to suggest an answer to this, with many critics joining her in the assessment that one of the reasons for its success is that with the popularity of electronic reading devices, written pornography becomes clandestine and accessible - and once the text is in the hands of the masses, it then becomes OK to talk about it in public.  There may be some truth in this (and also see this reflection from Big Bible), with Holly Poulter pointing out that:

Explicit books like Fifty Shades can be read without shame in front of dozens in a packed commuter train, because all they can read is the product code on the unassumingly grey back panel of the e-reader.

However, I have on more than one occasion, sat on a London Tube, reading Fifty Shades alongside a significant number of other women - in physical paperback.  The Kindle may have made books like this accessible, but from my observation that for some, there is little caution (and almost a little pride) about reading porn in public.

I do wonder whether what is going on under the auspice of sexual liberation and sold as radical feminism - is nothing short of extrovert voyeurism.  It is true that the porn industry is often at the forefront of technological developments (and thus the e-reader arguments have some weight).  Fifty Shades is not a great advert for literature, but it is a demonstration of the compulsion that a combination of sex and propaganda can have.  At the height of a recession, sex sells (just look at the success of Ann Summers, and the increasing birth rate over the last few months).

In an age when the Church (and indeed the world) is struggling to talk about sexuality with much integrity (be that about gender or orientation), it is perhaps no surprise that the moral void is filled with the voice of popular culture; shifting a debate outside of closed debates and academic nuances - into one of knowing glances, bitten lips, and the newly awakened voices around water coolers and on public transport.  Perhaps without knowing it, the reader begins to embody Ana - and in so doing, attempts to redeem the clandestine, the kinky and the deviant into a bold education and awakening.

It is easy to dismiss the Fifty Shades trilogy as trite nonsense or as soft porn (both arguably true).  However, there is a sexual awakening underway in society.  The invitation to the church is to be part of this awakening, and to begin to rediscover and promote a theology of sexuality, wholeness and pleasure - taking its inspiration from Scriptures (Song of Songs and Hosea) as well as Saint (Catherine of Sienna et al).  Let's not get left behind in the conversation, whispering contempt without offering something different - a vision and practice of relationship, grace and wholeness - in debate, pop culture engagement, and in our personal relationships.  If nothing else, the Fifty Shades trilogy invites a conversation about values in relationship and the positive use of power, and that is surely something that as Christians we have something to say about...


Questions


Have you read the novels?  Why or why not?

What have you seen/heard of the novels?  How has this affected the way that you approach conversations about the Fifty Shades trilogy?

What is your fear about the novels?

Are we living in an over-sexualised culture?

If you have read the novel/s:

What did you think of the novel/s?  Does the hype meet your expectations?

Why did you decide to read them?

Which character/s did you most sympathise with?  Why?

Which character/s do you least sympathise with? Why?

What are the main themes of the book?  How well are these delivered and developed in the novel?

Ana's character is back talking and argumentative.  In what ways does this make Ana a headstrong, autonomous heroine - and in which ways does it make her brattish and weak?

How might the story have changed if Christian and his family were not so wealthy?  Would his fetishes have been so readily accepted had he not been a man of means?

What is the significance of the protagonist being called 'Christian'?  How does that change the way you read the novel/s?

Who has power in the novel/s, and how do they use/misuse it?

Why do you think these novel/s are so popular?  Is it just because sex sells, or because of something deeper in society?

How might these novels help to stimulate a conversation about sex and sexuality?  In what ways might it hinder such conversation?  In such a conversation, what perspectives would you want to add into the mix?

How do you respond to the critiques offered in this post - who are you most convinced by - Poulter, Saunders, Levermore or Williams?  What arguments would you want to add to the conversation?