Obligatory recap: I am reading through the 50 Shades series. We are currently on the final book, 50 Shades Freed. You can check out my past reviews,
Okay. You know you were thinking it. I was thinking it. We were all thinking it.
When is Christian Grey going to break out the world’s smallest pity party piano again?
It has been almost two books and there hasn’t been an “I’m so sad and deep” piano moment, aside from the one that just turned into piano sex. I don’t know about you guys, but I couldn’t play “Chopsticks” for a week.
We are keyed up (no pun intended) for the latest installment of “Christian Grey’s Super Specific Sad Piano Mix,” and this time it is a piece from Chopin called Suffocation. Uuuuugh, the hipster Grey says, you’ve probably never heard of it. Uuuhhhhhhhh. Sigh.
Grey is back to the nightmare sequences and is feeling super sad for himself. Instead of working through his problems, the only way he can feel better is through, you guessed it, Ana’s pants.
But, GASP! She decides to invoke the safe word on him. And he is so shook up. And so freaked out. And man, he just wants to play some piano. A lot.
But hey, you know what? Nothing fixes a bad day of disobedient wives, safe words, your wife’s ex boss trying to kidnap her (Yeah, that almost happened. But then it TOTALLY DIDN’T.) like just flying to Aspen on a jet.
I’m sorry, what? Rich people hobbies? Bourgeoisie Sports? Yup.
But wait, there is more!!!!
A link to Detroit! Our very own Christian Grey was not born in Seattle (gasp!) he’s from the roughened city of Detroit! And so is the would-be kidnapper! Eeeek! Scandal.
WHAT IF, ERMAGERD, GREY IS THE KIDNAPPER? (Scratch that, right out.)
What if the kidnapper is GREY’S BROTHER? (Sorry, had to steal the plot twist from Dexter.)
What if it’s all a super secret plot for a an awesome yet belated surprise party?!! (Ok, no. That would never happen.)
None of it makes any sense.
But hey, neither does this book.
Conjecture abounds.
Check out where this project began with our first read through of 50 Shades of Grey!
To quickly catch you up to speed, I am powering through the 50 Shades series and hating every second of it. We are currently coming up on the end of 50 Shades Darker,
To recap, quite a bit has happened and yet still nothing has happened. There was the freak helicopter accident that stressed everyone out with three consecutive pages of, “Oh no! What could be happening?!” What else? Our heroine Anastasia Steele has been scared and also jealous of the cutegirl help being scared too. Oh, and Christian Grey miraculously appears, unharmed.
Oh Christian. We were all so worried about you and shall now shower you with affection. Cue Grey’s reaction of, What? People care about me? I never knew. You know, aside from you all being my family and always showering me with affection and love ALL THE TIME.
Ana totes agrees to marry Grey, he gets shmoopy about it all and 50 Shades of Grey ends with Ana’s crazy boss [ crazy as in, he tried to blackmail Ana, Grey fired him/got him beat up.] plotting an “I’ll get you next time Gadget”-esque revenge.
“Ugggh, ’twas only the sheer luck of it that saved your copter Grey, curses!!” Shakes drunken angry fist at the air.
Fast forward to 50 Shades Freed and our loving couple is gallivanting around Europe. Ana is getting to go everywhere and see everything she ever wanted in her young life. Oh yeah, and they got married. That happened. You want elaboration? She had pink and white roses in her bouquet. That was it. Oh yeah, and dress pooling at her feet. Guess what? He’s wearing a silver [or GREY] waistcoat.
Cut to: Yacht in the Mediterranean, off the coast of France. Fancy drinks, baubles that cost more than my car.
Hey, it’s a Honda and she is in good condition folks.
Sigh.
Ana, in a moment of defiance, decides to lay down and untie her bathing suit top. Oh no! Grey has specifically said he doesn’t want Ana exposing herself at all. So ha! Untie the top it is. Then fall asleep and roll over. Oops!
She flashes everyone! Oh no! Ana still isn’t used to the paparazzi and Grey [predictably] flips the BLEEP out.
Grey is roaring! Ana! I shall yell at you like a hussy! And Ana, thou shalt feel ashamed of thy nakedness!
Then again, predictably, they have naughty time on the boat because Ana hath done be so bad.
Voila.
She just had sex. On a Boat. Are you going for some kind of theme here Ana? Because I feel it coming on. Strong.
Next time, we finish this series for good. Are you ready? I’m ready. Onward to 50 Shades Freed, or, we’re finally at the finale!
Check out where this project began with our first read through of 50 Shades of Grey
Hello Lovelies,
In care you were unaware, I am making my way painfully through the 50 Shades series. Last I left you, I was nigh to the end of book two of the biggest collection of formulaic sex scenes laced with overly specific references to vast wealth.
But alas, in my last review, I forgot to mention The Butt Drawer.
I am so sorry, and if you will ever forgive me, well I shall be in your debt. Kind of.
So yes, The Butt Drawer.
Anastasia Steele wanders her way into the Playroom of Dull BDSM Sex .Really, the set up is there for all kinds of interesting freak-nasty, but [butt, ha] nothing more so scintillating happens than you might find at the very front counter of your local “Couples Love Aid” romance shop. A Fizzle and a Woop.
She’s “Oh My” -ing everything in there with Doe-like curiosity. Apparently she can’t figure out what the couch is in there for. And lo and behold, there is a chest of drawers. With… toys! Scandalous.
Oh My, whatever could these be?
“That’s a butt plug.”
“A butt plug? Is it for me?”
“Yes Ana.”
Then, voila, the curiouser and curiouser description of anal beads, we are treated to another round of Ana-esque questions, “Oh My”s, and the inevitable, “what are these? They go . . . DOWN THERE?”
Oh yes. OH MY. Wow. JEEZ. Holy Shit. Holy Cow. Oh My Gosh.
And other overused phrases as well.
“So is, this the Butt Drawer?”
“Yes Ana, this is the Butt Drawer. Do you like the Butt Drawer?”
“It’s not on the top of my Christmas Card list.”
You know, because we all remember to send holiday greetings to drawers of stuff meant for the butt.
What ruins this part of the book more than the awful back and forth is that you can just hear the “worldly air” of knowledge from Grey’s voice. Especially when he matter of factly explains anal beads. But ‘Oh Wait, There’s More!’
Next drawer down the line is the “Drawer O’ Good Vibrations.” Which Ana promptly slams shut.
Wait, what? Girl please. First of all, if you’ve never seen any of these things before, why are you freaking out? You didn’t freak out over The Butt Drawer, so what gives? I would think that you would at least peek a little. Jeez.
Behind drawer three is the clampy, pokey, spiky drawer. Again, stuff that you see before you go behind the red curtain at an adults playtime shop.
Scene:
*Ana looks at a pretty little loopy thing.*
“Oh my, what is this?”
“Why Ana that’s an [unsexy sounding Germanic word here] wheel. Which is described as a pastry cutter looking thing that feels amazing.“
Yawn.
We then continue on down the list of drawers and on to the nipple clamps. Oh My! A clamp on my pinky, just to see how that feels, holy cow, whadya know? A sensation unlike any other? And then another clamp that is described to look like a western wear string tie. Cool in theory, right? Apparently they are super pretty and such. Nice. After an at length description by Grey of said pretty tie thingys, Ana kills the mood. Again.
“How does he manage to make everything sound so erotic?”
ANA. FOR CRAP’S SAKE, THEY’RE NIPPLE CLAMPS.
WHAT IS NOT EROTIC ABOUT A NIPPLE CLAMP? THE WORD NIPPLE IS USED TO DESCRIBE EXACTLY WHAT THEY ARE.
I’M SURE THAT HALF THE FOLKS READING THIS RIGHT NOW ARE GETTING A BIT RANDY THINKING ABOUT SOME FORM OF EXOTIC NIPPLE DO-HICKEY ON THEIR LOVER.
WTF ANA?
Ana, who for all intents and purposes devotes a lot of mental time to describing the daily life of her nipples, seems to think that such mundane, jewel-laden sex wear items as exotic nipple ties are somehow, erotic. You know, because they’re just a part of daily life. Hmm, well it’s time for coffee and my exquisitely jeweled nipple ties. Just another day at the office, s’pose I’ll wear the ones with rubies on them. Or maybe the jade ones with pearl inlay. Because they’re such a average part of a non-sexual aspect of my life.
Ana, you’re killing me.
Also, a teddy nightdress gets the treatment with explicitly described spaghetti straps. As opposed to a turtleneck nightie. Or crewneck. Or Henley.
And apparently all of Ana’s clothes automatically pool at her feet. There is a lot of pooling going on. I almost envy her. I always end up with lumpy piles on the ground that I will forget and trip over later. My bad.
P.S. At this point I’m skipping the sex scenes. We get it. He’s either entering slowly, or slamming into you. It’s always delightful/exquisite/torturous/amazing/earth shaking/or mind blowing.
Folks, if you will humor me, give “the Treatment” to some mundane things in your life. Or the reverse Treatment to something that is actually sexy.
Here’s an example for you:
As she sipped her orange juice, in a cold, cold glass pressed to her lips, she gazed at the rumpled carton waiting for her on the counter. The expiration date was last week. She shivered, whether it was from the cold glass rubbing at her teeth or if it was from the early onset sign of something more drastic to come later. Oh to suffer as such.
Everything below her bellybutton clenched and she thought, “Oh God, I should have gone to the grocery store this week. This juice, it could be so dangerous. But it is so good. I guess I’ll just take my chances.”
Belatedly, she considered the equally precarious situation with the milk.
Show us your best “Treatment” in the comments or send them to us on Twitter @SubCultured! Next time, we will finish 50 Shades Darker and move on to 50 Shades Freed. Oh my.
Back again, almost done with book two of exploding dark ecstasy, overly much clothing description and tedious inner monologue. 50 Shades Darker has gotten 50 shades duller. And again, for the Johnny-come-lately’s, this is a spoilerfest of spoils. And once again, deal with it.
I am really disliking this book. To the point that I took the time to match my socks rather than read the allotted 5 chapters I set out for myself one evening.
So, Ahem:
In this edition of “Ana really needs get some hobbies other than sex with this rich dude,” we come back from rich playboy land and are ensconced in the world drama with the ex. Ghost Girl, Christian’s ex, goes even more super cray-cray. As in, “Imma sneak into your house and wave a gun about the place” kind of crazy.
Instead of being a rational human being and realizing that Grey’s method of diffusing the situation is switching over to Dom status with his former Sub and MAKING her drop the gun, kneel on ground, and give up the power to kill the whole group, Ana freaks.
She gets outside with friend Ethan (her roomie’s hot brother. Who cares.) goes for some coffee (what the shit?) and panics because she thinks that, you know, THINGS like sex might be happening.
Hey Ana? Chill a bit, right?
Ok. Let’s go over this.
- You get saved by your man who only has to say the word.
- You get to leave room with crazy lady with gun.
- He stays, to ensure she doesn’t come after you.
- The man has proposed to you [I’ll get to that later].
Despite all of these things, all Ana can think about is what Christian might still see in her, what it is that she doesn’t have that crazy lady has. Which is probably just a closet full of sex driven crazy pants. And again, rather than be relieved that she is alive, she panics about whether or not her dude might be having sex with his ex. Who was just waving a gun at them.
Oh Ana, you don’t know what you do to me.
What Ana does to me is make me realize that I never, ever, ever, want to be THAT insecure. This whole book is about Ana and her insecurities. There is a little sex, sure. It is about the same, tearing this, unzipping those, entering that, gasping blah blah blah darkness. But ultimately, it ends up being about Ana being a super jealous loser who whines a lot and obsesses like a 13-year-old over Grey’s exes.
And, like a lame, she loses her mind while he fingers her in an elevator with other folks around. Kinky, maybe. Inconsiderate, yes.
Girl. Please.
She visits Christian’s therapist, who says she has made more progress than anyone has. He tells her all about why he likes brunettes. The Family loves her. Christian says, “Move in with me.” Everyone can see how in love they are [ew]. He tells her every other page how amazing she is, that she has changed his life, he’s never wanted anyone but her. He wants to marry her, after what, two months?
Also: Grey has an Oedipus complex. Whoa!!!! Yeah, totally saw that coming.
I would love to feign surprise, but that was coming about 50 miles off. Huh, millionaire sex-god doesn’t like to be touched and all his problems and sex stuff leads back to his childhood. With “the crack whore,” his mother. Please Mr. Grey, tell me more about those things that I never suspected from you. What’s that? The girls all kind of look like your mom? Oh really? That must be so hot for you.
Neither one of them has ever had a relationship. No, really.
If he could have his way, Ana, you wouldn’t work. You’d just live in the rich home he bought for you, make some babies and have sex whenever. And deal with his craptastic pick up lines. Ana, your relationship is based on the “most amazing sex in the world” and little else. And that’s fine for plenty of folks, but girl, you need some self esteem if you’re going to toss your whole life on the horse shoe game of some guy’s penis. Just saying.
Honey, you’d never had sex before. And that’s great that he’s attentive and daring. But please, really? He’s a big weirdo and you are super boring and easily controlled. Go read some Tom Hardy and drink a cup of tea while staring out a window.
No, Scratch that, I’m doing that. You can’t have it.
If you do, Oh Ana, I’ll “Oh jeez, WoW, holy cow, Oh Gosh, Ecstasy, release, Oh something something” your shit up. I’m warning you.
Next time on, I Can’t Believe I’m Still Reading This:
Ana’s Hen Party and Grey’s Stag-Do collide in glorious, amazing, coquettish oh god whatever. Just get pregnant already. Because what I’ve always wanted to read about in graphic detail is how morning sickness does not jive with sex in the breakfast nook.
Shit.
More to follow with part four – 50 Shades Darker, Or How to Make Actual Sex Acts Seem Mundane
Wanna know how this all started? Our first read through of 50 Shades of Grey
What comes after the first book, 50 Shades of Grey? The next one! But only if the first book says it can . . . terrible, terrible, I know.
After embarking on my quest to get through the newest, most salacious book on the market right now, 50 Shades of Grey, by E L James (I tried desperately not to pee my pants laughing) I have trudged onwards to book two, 50 Shades Darker.
Again: Spoiler alerts are everywhere in this. So don’t read on, good reader, if you want to be spoiled (Wait, what? What the crap? That is not what I meant. But, yes, Spoiler Alert.)
So what do Cuisinart Standmixer’s, paperback books and Christian Grey all have in common? Well Anastasia, they won’t love you back.
For those of you who haven’t paid attention to the trashy book wires, the 50 Shades series is a Twilight fan-fiction based erotic novel series where the unwitting Anastasia Steele literally fumbles her way into a control freak, tortured past, god-like (ew) handsome, private helicopter piloting, stalker billionaire’s sex life.
And… GASP… into his freaky little hyperbole using heart.
Shocking, right?
Blah blah blah, she’s a virgin, blah blah blah, he doesn’t want to be touched, blah blah blah, her every inner monologue is an “OH MY!” or “OH CRAP,” or “HOLY COW” or “AAARRGH” or “JEEZ.”
But, to the point, these two lust birds do lots of freaky-deaky in a sex room.
50 Shades of Grey ends with Anastasia realizing she doesn’t like a belt across her butt super hard, and that after less than three weeks of sex for every day, she can’t change him and she ends up calling it quits. On a side note: They always use protection. Every time. Good job, writer!
Enter Book Two: Oh myyyyyy.
Scene: Little Boy Flashback to a pimp beating his mother. Reader, I was totally not ready for that.
It has been three, count it, THREE days since Anastasia dumped Christian and she’s freaking out. Three days, folks. Not, you know, a reasonable amount of time. Maybe a month in between or something. It has been less than half of a week. They broke up Friday night, it is now Monday morning and Anastasia is a sad little rain cloud of “WHY DOESN’T HE LOVE ME BACK?”
And he is… still rich. And apparently still looks like, you guessed it, a Greek God of some sort. Because Adonis is the only descriptor in the world.
Someone decides to email someone else and voila! They are going to her creepy friend’s photo gallery opening. Said friend tried kiss Anastasia when she was drunk in book one and she said no and he was all, “Oh Ana, I’ve felt like this for so… I just want to stick my tongue in your mouth.” Yawn.
So far, the first three chapters are just tons of lame dialogue. “Oh, my Fifty Shades . . . he’s so tortured”-esque and Ana making dead-fish attempts at what I assume are come on lines? “Yeah, you know what else we could be doing…?” I don’t know Ana, what else could we be doing? I know, do some yoga. It’s the thing these days. Don’t forget the, “Oh Ana, you are so be-witching, be-guiling, be- ”
Oh good lord, get new words. I swear, if bottles and cans were recycled the way this book recycles phrasing, the earth would have been a better place years ago.
Back to crappy, over thought drama.
Weird Things:
Art Show: Dumb friend has a collection of candid photos of Anastasia. Creeeeepy. But Christian Grey buys all of these photos, because he doesn’t want any creeper other than him seeing her.
Man-emotions: Out of nowhere, the enigmatic Christian Grey spills more beans than ever about his horrifying childhood. And it really does nothing for what is now a storyline driven novel.
Weird Woman: Obviously effed up woman stops Anastasia in the street, while she is on her way to hang out with the co-workers. Rather than tell anyone, even her omipresent-can find anything, anyone, anywhere boyfriend [oh yeah they’re back on] she just keeps mum. Does this girl not have Facebook? Or Twitter?
I can see it now:
@AnaSteeleSub: OMG!! Whts w/ cray cray lady in street talkin to me like we know each other?
#sexbillionaireGFproblems
Anastasia apparently has plenty of time to email, though. And rather than texting, she just emails sexbillionaire waaaay too much. No joke, pages of this book are in email format. Subject line and all. Oh Ana, coy emails do not suit you. And besides, it’s all monitored at work! OOPS!
Did I mention that? Yup.
Oh yeah. They finally got to having the sex again. Afterwards, she thanked him explicitly for the very nice iPad he gave her. Hawk-ward pillow talk.
More to follow with part three – 50 Shades Darker, Or Put a Ring on It.
Or you can check out our previous review – 50 Shades of Grey, Or How To Laugh Your Way To Better Abs!
Newsweek did it. Amazon did it. Housewives did it. Critics did it. Now I guess I’m doing it.
That’s right. I’m reading 50 Shades of Grey. And by golly, I am laughing my ass off.
E. L. James’ Twilight based fan fiction turned sex novel has impacted the American reader like no other since… well, a lot of other salaciously scandalous scantily clad books before it. Try saying that three times fast.
But this one has something going for it. It is hilarious. Not intended, but really, super funny if you take all the serious moments out of context.
“Yeah, baby. Oh yeah, baby. Oh my.” – 50 Shades of Grey, probably.
Supposedly there is a plot somewhere all in all of this dribble where our titular character Anastasia Steele, a near college graduate virgin, catches the eye of the wealthy, deep, and complicated young billionaire, Christian Grey. Bella, I mean Anastasia, constantly describes Edward, I mean Christian, as an Adonis. Sound familiar? The similarities don’t end there. Anastasia also has the worst and most awkward inner monologue ever, including during sex, and trusts, by Christian’s demand, the results of Wikipedia in the matter of educating herself in “The Dark Side” of sex.
Spoiler Alert: I will read this book and I will rip this entire series apart as I go along and will give away a ton of the ending.
Deal with it.
Smut for smut’s sake, is fine. You want to read erotica? Awesome. Go for it. Check out some scandalous, like The Diaries of an Unlikely Call Girl, or Story of O, or Claiming of Sleeping Beauty. There is an annual collection of the best erotica each year compiled. Just go for it. But forcing a weird romance storyline because you had a wet dream about Twilight in between something that is super down and dirty is just strange.
Ana and Christian meet through a perfectly awkward “Oh no, my roomie on the all important College Newspaper is sick! And I, the not at all experienced in news reporting person must fill her shoes during this interview with a super high power, impossibly hard to get ahold of, benefactor of the university. OH MY!”
One more thing? Get used to the phrase, “Oh my.”
Or sometimes, “Oh shit.” There is also the occasional, “Holy crap!” And in at least one case, there is also pirate talk. I’m surprised there isn’t an, “Oh Mylanta!” involved thus far, but maybe we’re saving that for the sequel. Because every time E. L. James gets a little sexy, steamy, and scandalous flow going on, it gets ruined by Anastasia’s inner good girl monologue. Literally. Nice way to pump the brakes there, James.
Back to what passes for a plot these days. The super serious, cold, and ultra-professional Christian Grey, who is always described as an Adonis since thesauruses aren’t a thing, loves to use the word “Baby,” to address his main gal Ana in bed. “Bleep bleep I’m gonna bleep bleep you so bleep bleep… baby, yeah.”
So why am I reading this, if I find it so ridiculous?
I will read or try to read anything once just to see what the hype is about. I’ll read best sellers, advertisements, publisher information, tween romance, science fiction, fantasy, instruction manuals, recipes, cereal boxes, and how-to hints and tips. In the case of books that make a stir with the masses, I will make a point to read it – just to see if I like it or if I hate it.
Example: I cannot stand Twilight. It is badly written and takes too long to get to the point. I believe that it places precarious self esteem issues in the forefront of what seems to be an abusive or at least seriously lopsided relationship. The female protagonist, Bella Swan, has no idea of self and seeks validation through attention from distant, literally cold men. Yes, I read the whole series. And saw the first movie. And I think that Katniss wins every time because Swan Song needs to go to a women’s retreat and find herself.
About me: I’m a feminist. I don’t really judge people so long as no one is getting hurt and everyone is consensual and safe. I’m pretty open minded and after spending a few years in the Women’s Gender and Sexuality Studies department in college I have had to study and dissect a lot about people, their proclivities and tendencies.
That being said, I get concerned when “Dark Side” things go mainstream, mainly because I’ve read too many incident reports that started with “read in book/saw on TV/movie” and ended in ER visits. People who try things out without education because they are the new fad can seriously get hurt. It makes everyone look bad and places a pale on a whole community.
Here are a few tips to help get through 50 Shades of Grey a little easier. Imagine every “Oh my,” is said in George Takei’s voice, ever uttered “Holy cow!” is voiced by Bart Simpson voice, each instance of “Baby” is murmured by Barry White, and the Pirate stuff is in… well, salty sea dog. I wouldn’t suggest a shot to accompany these instances, because alcohol poisoning is a real danger.
Because after Ana, an English Classics college major, saves her virtue thus far only to lose it to Christian Grey after knowing him for less than 24 hours and wakes up in his bed, she finds him playing super sad classical piano. Oh yeah, did I mention? He flew her to his super duper mod apartment. In his helicopter.
He tells her he’s totally had a rough life and she thinks ” WOW! So complicated.”
And then for some reason there ‘s a bath scene. “OH MY! Imported jasmine bath oil for my super sore body, skin, and down there!” And yes, lets point out again that this 21-year-old English Classics college major protagonist still calls it the “DOWN THERE.” area.
Which is only trumped by referring to his penis as her very own personal “Christian Grey Flavored Popsicle.”
All I can think about is Whig in Bridesmaids making the “Hello I’m a Penis and I’m Here Face.”
She gets all super proud of herself, having just exerted some power over this curious man-creature. And then there’s a lot of sex tension during breakfast. And then, an actually somewhat well crafted description of female recipient “lady popsicle-ing” shall we say? Punctuated by – “AAAARRRGHHHH!” Thar be pirates in this sex scene.
Next time, we get into the rough stuff. “He’s TOTALLY YUMMY! OH MY! So yummy.” Thar be all for now. More to follow in the chapters to come!