There's been a huge firestorm going on regarding the trilogy written by E.L. James, the first one entitled "Fifty Shades of Grey" since the book's release a few years ago. They even talked about it on the Today show -- more than once. Militant feminists were up at arms, preachers were up at arms, husbands were up at arms ... and women were quietly sitting in the corner and reading the books, sending all three way up the charts of whatever bestseller list you want to name. When the second book came out, supposedly one of the Manhattan Barnes & Noble stores actually had a stampede and sold them all before they could even be unboxed. Those sinful city women.
I grew out of romance novels a long time ago and my one relationship that even came close to walking on that side of town ended more than a double dozen years ago, so truthfully, I didn't take much notice when the books came out. Feminists are always looking for a new agenda, so are moral conservatives so it pretty well went beyond my notice. I had no intention of ever reading the books as my literary interests go in other directions, until one day on Facebook when a male friend that I admire greatly called them trash. This surprised me a lot because this friend, while for the most part morally and fiscally conservative, is generally quite open-minded and rarely just casts judgement in any direction without having all of the facts. I challenged him on his categorizing these books as "trash" as he admitted having not read them, and while he backpedaled a little, he didn't step off of the soapbox.
At that point, I decided to see what all of the fuss was about, and downloaded the first one from the public library. Yes, this book that some label pornographic is available in our local library, and you don't have to show an ID to read it. I was able to borrow it online and have it downloaded to my cell phone, which did not immediately burst into flames.
I thought it was a pretty good work of fiction. Good enough that I read the second and third books as well. A little young for me, the main characters are in their 20's, and my kids are not even that young anymore, so my point of reference was a little thin. The story line was fairly good, if unrealistic. Then again, so is every paperback romance novel (including the "Christian ones") there is out there.
Which is why I'm just a little amazed at the reactivation of the firestorm now that the movie is scheduled for release in a few days. Mine is not the first blog by far to be dedicated to this movie, but for the most part -- the blogs I've read at least -- they're all bashing and crashing and gnashing of teeth and tearing of hair. Oh the horror. How can they do this? How can they allow this movie to be shown! He's nothing more than a psychopath, a sociopath! He's taking advantage of her! He's just like my ex-husband! This will ruin society as we know it! How dare they! Pitchforks and torches everyone! Head for the castle and kill the monster!
A lot of it is warnings -- don't let your daughter/wife/sister/best friend go see this! It will cause them to believe that this is a normal relationship and they will end up with someone like X. Women are going to enter into BDSM relationships and get hurt! This will allow all of the predatory males out there to harvest a brand new crop of vulnerable women.
This is where I get just a little annoyed. Not just with the FSOG bashers -- although some of them are a little over the top. I get annoyed any time someone decides that a work of art, whether it be a book, a painting, a story, a song, a poem, music...anytime someone judges a piece of art and uses as their excuse "It will make X do Y." I remember back in the 80s when Ozzy Osborne was blamed for the deaths of several teenage boys who committed suicide, as Blue Oyster Cult was a generation before. At least one family sued Ozzy and his record label, but the suit was dismissed by the judge -- rightly so in my belief. Art does not make people commit suicide, or become a victim to a sociopath, or jump off cliffs. Art, at the most, makes us think. If the thinking leads to a dark place though, it's not the fault of the art. It's the fault of the mind.
Are there men (and women) out there who are psychopaths and sociopaths who are able to control and manipulate women (and men)? Oh yes. I was once married to one. Are there women out there who are vulnerable to this type of man? Well, yes. I was once one. Does reading this book or watching this movie make these women more vulnerable?
I don't think so. I really don't, and I certainly don't think that it's going to make a woman who wouldn't normally be vulnerable to this type of individual prone to seeking one out.
Fiction is fiction. Almost every movie out there is fiction. Most people who read for pleasure read fiction. Watching a Star Trek movie doesn't make me want to hop into a space ship and go traveling into space. Okay, wait, I'm wrong, it does. So does books by Heinlein, Asimov, Clark and Harrison. However, I'm realistic enough to know that if a man from the future knocked on my door and his space ship was in my yard, I'm not just going to go "Well see ya later honey, take care of the cats for me!". I know the difference between reality and fantasy, and so do 95% of the women out there. If you're going to try and ban these books and this movie and call them trash, then you aren't getting the picture.
Instead of wringing our hands about how horribly that handsome and rich devil Christian abuses and controls poor Anastasia, why not sit our daughters/sisters/mothers down and ask them if they've ever known of a real-life relationship that was just like what you read in the romance books? Because they aren't. Those cheap little romance paperbacks many of us women are guilty of reading at at least some point in our lifetime bear the same resemblance to a real relationship and marriage that Star Trek does to our NASA space program. No one believes that in real life Bruce Willis can jump from a fighter jet to an 18 wheeler truck, and no one should believe that a mousy little girl that works in a hardware store can snag the richest man in the world with a body you can eat ice cream off of. Real life just doesn't work that way.
As for the other thing -- the "sex scenes", I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but there are lots of books out there that are MUCH racier than this one, and they are on your library shelves as well, for anyone to check out. I just don't get the hullaballoo on that. One of my favorite series which is also set in the future is about a female police detective and some of the scenes of her with her -- rich and famous and hotter than hell -- husband would definitely give this series a run for it's money. Yet, the author has cranked out over 40 books in the series, is famous all over the world and you don't see women freaking out over them.
Give women credit. We're smart, we're sensible. And just as guys like their movies where they can do impossible things with cars on a highway full of state troopers, us girls sometimes like a movie where the girl gets to have an affair with the hot, rich guy. Years ago, when I did read romance novels, I worked as a supervisor in a call center. Not the most glamorous job by far, and pretty thankless to boot. As I've joked more than once, as supervisor you never get the "Oh thank you for doing a wonderful job" calls. Ever.
At lunch time I would sit outside whenever the weather permitted and read my books and eat my lunch and hope that no one came along and wanted to talk. One day a fellow male supervisor asked me why I "wasted my lunch" every day like that.
"Wasted???" I replied. "Are you kidding? Every day for one hour I get to leave this place and have a hot affair with a sexy guy in my own mind and I'm not cheating on my husband to do it. I wouldn't call that a waste." Yeah. FSOG is kind of like that. For two hours I get to sit in a dark movie theater with a lot of other women and we all get to have a hot affair with a sexy guy and go home guilt free. It's just a movie. If you don't like it, don't go see it or don't read it. Just leave the rest of us to our little bit of fun.
