Chapter Thirteen
Ana calls her mum the next day – it turns out that Bob (Ana’s mum’s new husband) has had a fall, and this means that Ana’s mum can’t come to her graduation. E. L. James doesn’t like mummies very much, does she? I don’t know many mums that would miss their only daughter’s graduation ceremony for any reason. Ana is a complete saint, so she is serenely forgiving about the entire thing and doesn’t get mad about the fact that her parent won’t be present at one of the biggest events of her life. I swear Ana is constructed entirely from cardboard. It’s okay to have negative feelings, you know. Most people do.
When she’s finished on the phone,
Ana finds an email from Christian. “… maybe he’s cancelling dinner,” she
thinks. “The thought is so painful.” I bet it’s not as painful as the time he
tugged on your pubes. Whatever.
Turns out Christian has sent her a dictionary definition of the word ‘submissive’. The definition dates back to 1580-1590, and in her reply, Ana reminds Christian that we are actually in 2011. Ana didn’t have an email address until five minutes ago, but is effectively telling Christian to ‘get with the times’. She also sends him the dictionary definition of the word ‘compromise’. Touché.
Ana calls Ray (her stepdad and
father figure), who confirms he’s coming to her graduation. Ana contemplates
that Ray’s ‘quiet fortitude’ is exactly what she needs when she meets Christian
to discuss their terms tomorrow. “Maybe I can channel my inner Ray,” she says.
She wants to channel her inner
stepdad to properly prepare
for a discussion about BDSM with her new lover. I don’t think I need to add
anything to that sentence, I think we’re all on the same page here.
“Kate and I concentrate on
packing, sharing a bottle of cheap red wine as we do.” Yeah, that long-standing
tradition of quaffing red wine, at least for the last week or so that you’ve
been consuming alcohol.
Next thing I know, Ana has gone to sleep, woken up and someone called Paul is begging her for a date. I actually have no idea who Paul is, and I’ve been analysing this book chapter by chapter. If you know who Paul is, please put your answers on a postcard (or in the comments below) because I am clueless.
Anyway, after Ana declines the
offer of a date with ‘Paul’ (whose sole purpose seems to be to reaffirm how
irresistible Ana is to men), she starts getting ready for her meal with
Christian. “I wish I could feel more enthused about clothes and make an extra effort,
but clothes are just not my thing,” says Ana. “I decide on the plum-coloured
sheath dress.” Ana hates fashion, but she knows what a ‘sheath dress’ is,
obviously.
“I rarely wear make-up – it intimidates me,” she says. Right, of course, because you’re so pure and virginal and naturally beautiful and you don’t need to sully your face with such muck, and none of your literary heroines had to put up with this crap, and you know what? Just give me a break. Your dazzling perfection, which you are so ridiculously oblivious to, is making me want to puke.
Ana meets Christian at the hotel
he’s been staying at, and he sits them down and orders them some drinks. They
start to discuss their contract. Christian admits that the contract isn’t
legally binding, and I think that is just a real shame, because I’d definitely
read the alternate ending where Ana breaks the contract and Christian drags her
through the courts to try and legally exert his right to use nipple clamps on
her whenever he sees fit. Part of me thinks the contract only exists in the
novel so that E. L. James could go into gory detail about anal fisting and show
off her knowledge of legal jargon simultaneously.
Christian asks Ana whether she’d
prefer to eat in the restaurant or in his suite. Ana says that she’d prefer to
conduct this conversation on neutral ground, in public, probably so that he
can’t tie her to the nearest bedframe and try to sexually manipulate her into
giving in to him again. Christian says he has a private dining room already
booked. So he pretty much asked her what she wanted to do, and when she
answered him honestly, he said, “Well sorry, we’re not doing that, we’re doing
it my way, so I don’t know why I asked.” This guy, I swear…
Christian orders oysters for their
starter. Ana’s never tried oysters. Let’s just say from this point on - to save
me typing it out every single time - Ana has never tried anything before. Ana tries the oysters and
likes them. “Good girl,” says Christian. Patronising. So Ana is channelling her
inner stepdad, and Christian is treating her like his adopted daughter. This is
creepy on so many levels.
They continue discussing the
contract; Ana wants to know whether Christian ever hurt any of his submissives.
He admits that he once tied a rope too tight when suspending someone from his
playroom ceiling. “I hold my hand up begging him to stop,” Ana says. Why ask if
you don’t want to know? It seems to me that she’s come here to discuss this
contract in detail but whenever Christian does go into detail, she freaks out and
doesn’t want to hear it.
Christian gives a speech that’s
quite disturbing, but it seems to be coming from the right place. He says that
from the moment she crosses his threshold, she will be his, and he will fuck
her, discipline her and train her as he sees fit. But he understands that she’s
never done this before, and he promises to take it very slowly and earn her
trust. He admits that the terminology in the contract is just to help her get
into the mindset of the role he’s asking her to fulfil, and the whole thing is
quite convincing, actually. I’m still not quite over the fact that he tried to
pressure her into it using tied-to-the-bed sex, and I still think he wants Ana
for purely selfish reasons, but it’s a convincing speech.
Ana seems convinced too, and they
get back to negotiating the smaller details. Ana says she wants full control
over what she eats. On one hand, that’s a completely reasonable demand, but on
the other, Ana has constantly reiterated throughout the book so far that she
doesn’t feel like eating and can’t stomach any food, which sends
eating-disorder-alarm-bells ringing in my head. She never finishes a meal. It’s
reasonable for Christian to want his sub to be in good health, but it’s also
fair that Ana should be able to eat what and when she wants. I find myself on
the fence, and I like it. Books are supposed to encourage
debate, not be so utterly one-sided and make you hate every single one of the
characters.
They continue to negotiate, and
then Christian reverts back to the self-serving sociopath from earlier
chapters. They’re politely discussing the fact that Christian needs her fit and
healthy, so she must improve her diet, and then… “And right now, I want to peel
you out of that dress.” The author literally cannot go one chapter without a
sex scene, now that the floodgates have opened (no pun intended… ew).
“Christian. You use sex as a
weapon. It really isn’t fair,” Ana says. I fist-pumped so hard at this.
“You’re right, I do,” muses
Christian. “In life you use what you know, Anastasia. Doesn’t change how much I
want you. Here. Now.” No apology, no acknowledgement that what he does is
fundamentally wrong, just a lame excuse about him knowing nothing else, and a
diversionary tactic in the form of sex, again.
“How can he seduce me with just
his voice? I’m panting already,” says Ana. I really hope she doesn’t mean this
literally, and that she’s not sat in the restaurant panting like an actual dog
as a result of those cringe-worthy sentences. How embarrassing.
Christian tells her that he knows she wants him, because he felt the tablecloth move and that definitely means she’s pressing her thighs together. This is some next level Derren Brown shit.
There’s another half-baked
reference to classic literature. Always Elizabeth Bennett, Jane Eyre and Tess.
Ana has never read anything else. Neither has E. L. James. She’s read synopses
on BookRags at best. Christian tells her he couldn’t care less about food right
now. Make your bloody mind up; you wanted full control over her eating habits
about thirty seconds ago! Get it together, man.
Ana decides to do her very best
to play him at his own game. “Picking up a spear of asparagus, I gaze at him
and bite my lip. Then very slowly put the tip of the cold asparagus in my mouth
and suck it.” She’s giving an asparagus blowjob. There’s a sentence I bet you
never thought you’d read.
But seriously, she lost her
virginity a week ago and now she’s giving head to random vegetables as a form
of seduction. This is some very fast progression; vegetable blowjobs are
usually saved for at least the fifth date.
The waiter enters while she’s
teasing Christian with her seductive asparagus, and Ana decides that she must
leave right now, to ensure she has a clear mind to mull over this discussion.
She knows that if she stays, it will only end one way. I hate how she phrases
this; it makes it sound as though she has no
choice but to have sex with
him, which, for your (and Ana’s) information, is probably classed as rape.
Ana also has her graduation
ceremony the next day, which she has to be up early for (and which,
coinci-fucking-dentally, Christian is making a speech at. Whaddya know).
Christian tries to persuade her to stay. Honestly, it’s just one night apart;
you’re not going to combust. Get a grip.
Christian gives in and escorts
her to the lobby. “Holy crap, this could be it,” thinks Ana. This could be
what? He’s just walking you out; you’re going to see him tomorrow at your
graduation. “Holy crap, this could be the last time I see him for a whole
twenty-four hours!”
Christian gives Ana his jacket so she doesn’t get cold (aw), and then completely insults the bashed up VW Beetle that Ana drives, which was a present from her stepdad. “Oh, Anastasia. I think we can do better than this.” How awfully condescending. Way to make her feel inferior, you complete and utter arse.
Ana drives home crying. I don’t
know what she’s crying about; maybe her plans for a vegetable-themed night of
tantalising seduction have been completely ruined. I would definitely read that
spin-off - 50 Shades of
Gherkin.
Orgasm count: remains at seven in
total.
Alcohol units: a bottle of wine
shared with Kate (as they do), a glass of wine ordered by Christian.
TBC!
Just one piont I would make. I have read other blogs criticizing this book and they all jump on the fact that Ana is totally computer illiterate. SHE is not. She uses Kates loptop, the computers at collage and, at Claytons. She could have just as easily down loaded tunes for her ipod from Kates AND sent email. She just didn't fancy doing the researce for BDSM on any of the above computers
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