tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72928866478736252992024-03-04T20:29:50.165-08:0050 Shades Of CriticismA critical analysis of 50 Shades of Grey, chapter by chapter.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger29125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-11207259481336620222015-02-19T10:15:00.006-08:002015-02-19T10:16:55.751-08:00Chapter Twenty Five<div class="MsoNormal">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Chapter Twenty Five<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">We pick up with Ana leaving Georgia and heading back to
Seattle. She has a little cry with her Mum before she gets on the plane, and
gets to thinking about motherly love. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“What does Christian know of
love?” she speculates. “Seems he didn’t get the unconditional love he was
entitled to during his very early years.” I wish the book actually went into
this type of thing in more detail because at the moment it sounds like she’s
conflating childhood abuse with sexual fetishes or preferences later in life. She’s
basically saying that if you suffer from child abuse in your early life, you’ll
grow up to be just like Christian Grey – which I’m pretty sure is not at all
true.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Of course, Ana finds all that kind
of stuff boring. She just wants to think about relationship kinda stuff. “It’s
very simple: I want his love. I <i>need </i>Christian Grey to love me,” she
thinks to herself as she sits herself down in her first class seat on the
plane. Let’s get this straight – if you <i>need</i>
someone to love you, you shouldn’t be in a relationship. If you <i>need</i> someone else’s love to define
yourself, you shouldn’t be in a relationship. What’s that phrase – in order to
love someone, you need to love yourself? Couldn’t have put it better myself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana starts emailing Christian from
the plane - pretty sure you’re not allowed to do that. Christian tell her as
much, and he seems to be in a pretty formal mood.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>“Crap. Okay. </i>Jeez. What is eating him?” Ana panics. “Maybe Taylor’s gone
AWOL, maybe he’s dropped a few million on the stock market – whatever the
reason.” Yeah, probably dropped a couple of mill on the markets. He’ll have to
make an angry phone call talking to some more imaginary people in hopeless
business-speak to sort it out. Get some blue-sky thinking on the go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The plane takes off and Ana starts
to get a little suspicious of the empty seat next to her. “I become aware that
once again the only empty seat is beside me. I shake my head as the thought
crosses my mind that Christian might have purchased the adjacent seat so that I
couldn’t talk to anyone.” THAT’S IT. That’s exactly what he’s done. I wouldn’t
be one bit surprised if he’s booked every single seat on the plane to make sure
she’s alone – that’s how weird and controlling and scary this guy is.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana emerges in the terminal later
that day to find Christian’s bodyguard waiting with a sign for her. She has a
bit of an awkward interaction with the guy, and remembers that Christian had to
send him out to buy underwear for her once. “In fact – and the thought unsettles
me – he’s the only man who’s ever bought me underwear. Even Ray’s never had to
endure that hardship.” AGAIN with the stepdad stuff! Has anyone questioned E.
L. James about Ana’s background at all? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Taylor (bodyguard man) drives Ana
back to Seattle. Ana tries to find out what’s eating Christian, but all Taylor
will give away is that Christian is ‘preoccupied’. Cryptic. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana asks the driver to put on some
music. “Something soothing,” she specifically requests. “Pachelbel’s Canon
fills the space between us. <i>Oh yes</i>… this is what I need.” Hahaha. Has
anyone ever listened to Pachelbel’s Canon and thought, “<i>Oh yes…</i>?” No, me neither. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Taylor doesn’t even drive Ana
home, he takes her straight to Christian’s place. Ana’s really nervous as she
takes the lift up to his floor. “<i>Why am I so nervous? </i>And I know it’s
because I have no idea what kind of mood Christian’s going to be in when I
arrive.” Urgh. Ladies, if you panic before you see your boyfriend because
you’re worried about the kind of mood he’ll be in, <i>leave him!! </i>I beg you!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">When she reaches the top,
Christian is talking on the phone, all agitated and tense. When he sees Ana, he
hangs up on whichever important imaginary person he’s chatting to and strides
right over to her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“<i>Holy shit</i>… something’s
amiss – the strain in his jaw, the anxiety around his eyes. He shrugs out of
his jacket, undoes his dark tie, and slings them both on to the couch en route
to me. Then his arms are wrapped around me, and he’s pulling me to him, hard,
fast, gripping my ponytail to tilt my head up, kissing me like his life depends
on it.” Bet you can’t guess what’s going to happen next!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Christian orders – yep, orders –
Ana to take a shower with him. They undress, he goes down on her a little bit,
they have some 100% standard shower sex, and that’s it. You know, when I first
heard about this book, I was promised a serious kink-fest. Everything that’s
happened so far has been so lame and vanilla, I don’t know how anyone can
pretend this is a book about BDSM.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">They wash together in the shower
and Ana starts telling Christian about her new job. By this point it’s less 50
Shades of Grey and more 50 Shades of Middle-Aged Marriage. Ana says she’s
surprised Christian doesn’t already know where her new job is, based on the
spectacular stalking abilities he’s showcased so far.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“Anastasia, I wouldn’t dream of
interfering in your career, unless you ask me to, of course,” says Christian,
looking ‘wounded’. Urgh, what a dick. I wouldn’t<i> dream</i> of interfering with your career… we’ll come back to this
later.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Christian says he knows there are
four publishing houses in Seattle, and Ana tells him her new job is at SIP.
“Oh, the small one, good. Well done,” says Christian. Yeah, so glad you didn’t
get a job at a big publishing house – wouldn’t want you getting any ideas about
ambition or career progression. I want to keep you meek and mild-mannered and
here with me, thanks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana also has a request for
Christian – she wants to know if he’ll go to Jose’s (Jacob – remember him)
photography show in Portland. Christian gets all tense but agrees to go – as
long as they take the helicopter. Ostentatious twat. Then he tells Ana to turn
around and fucks her again. Sigh.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Later on, they’re sitting at the
breakfast bar eating some pasta, sipping some wine, nice and casual. Ana asks Christian
about the ‘situation’ that took him back to Seattle so early. He says it’s
getting out of control, then shrugs her off and tells her to be ready in his
playroom in 15 minutes. Ohmygodguys, just what we’ve been waiting for… <i>another</i> sex scene!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“You can get ready in your room.
Incidentally, the walk-in closet is now full of clothes for you. I don’t want
any arguments about them,” says Christian. ARGH.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“Car, phone, computer… clothes,
it’ll be a damn condo next, and then I really will be his mistress,” muses Ana.
Erm… do you want to tell her, or should I?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana goes to check her brand new
wardrobe out. “It resembles Kate’s,” is her first thought. OF COURSE IT FUCKING
DOES.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The narrative skips a bit, and
then Ana is waiting in the Womb Room, kneeling on the floor wearing nothing but
her knickers. Christian walks in and ignores Ana. He’s wearing his ripped jeans
again.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://famewatcher.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/angelo-garcia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://famewatcher.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/angelo-garcia.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Hi, I'm Christian Grey."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">He tells Ana to stand up and wants
to reiterate a really important point. They don’t yet have a signed contract,
but he wants her to remember their ‘safe words’. The safe words are yellow and
red – yellow signifies that the sub is close to her limit, and red signifies
that the sub won’t tolerate any further demands. Totally straightforward and
fair.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Christian tells Ana that what he’s
going to do to her will be intense. He says that he’s going to blindfold her
and turn the music up, so she won’t be able to see or hear him – only feel. “A
musical interlude, not what I was expecting. Does he ever do what I expect? <i>Jeez,
I hope it’s not rap.” </i>OH MY GOD I
SO HOPE IT’S A RAP.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://33.media.tumblr.com/70a207e6a3756c57c9f284e76d40ca7c/tumblr_nj8tdhWizO1tucer6o1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://33.media.tumblr.com/70a207e6a3756c57c9f284e76d40ca7c/tumblr_nj8tdhWizO1tucer6o1_500.gif" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">He ties
her to his red satin bed (with the posts that have outstanding craftsmanship,
obv), puts an eye mask on her and puts some earphones in. She can’t move, she
can’t see him, she can’t hear him. He puts on some music. I am absolutely
gutted to report that it’s not rap. It’s some classical choral music. “Holy
cow, a celestial choir,” notes Ana. If I have to hear the phrase ‘Holy cow’ one
more time I might let a cow sit on me. End it all right now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Christian
starts rubbing her with something furry, and hitting her lightly with a
flogger, which he said would bring the blood up to the surface and make her
more sensitive. This scene goes on forever. Pages and pages of Ana panting and
writhing. It’s kinda boring, but probably the closest the book has come so far
to actually being sexy. Then someone has to ruin it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana
asks Christian what the music was that she was listening to. “It’s called Spem
In Alium, or the Forty Part Motet, by Thomas Tallis. I’ve always wanted to fuck
to it.” HAHAHAHA. Nothing like listening to some great choral music and
thinking man, I would love to get laid to this. Hahahaha!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Christian
starts rubbing her shoulders and Ana manages to get him to tell her what she
said in her sleep that time (remember that? No me neither. I don’t care). He
says she mumbled something about strawberries and a cage, and something about
missing him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana –
who is obviously panicking that she might have said ‘I love you’ in her sleep –
is relieved. “Is that all?” she asks. Christian gets suspicious. “What did you think you’d said?” he asks. Ana shrugs
it off. Christian says he’ll have to torture it out of her. HE’S BEING SERIOUS
THOUGH. RUN FOR IT.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Orgasm count: I’ve lost count and can’t be bothered to tot
them up. Now I know how E. L. James must feel.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">---</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Only one more chapter to go! Thanks to everyone who has read up until now - I'm as yet undecided as to whether I'll carry on after this book (I'm sure you understand. The source material is SO bad) but I'm always eager to hear what people think of this! Thanks again x</span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-30467442043099156452015-02-18T11:30:00.000-08:002015-02-19T01:42:18.607-08:00Chapter Twenty Four<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"Christian stands in a steel-barred cage. Wearing his soft, ripped jeans, his chest and feet</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">are mouthwateringly naked, and he’s staring at me."</span></i><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hold up. Let's go back a little bit.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"... [his] feet are mouthwateringly naked." There's a phrase I bet you didn't think you'd read today. His feet are mouthwateringly naked - not your standard, regular kind of naked, but mouthwateringly so. She must be really into this guy. This is the beginning of a dream sequence which is all kinds of embarrassing.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ana is woken from her dream at 5.30am by Christian, who switches on the sidelight because he wants to 'chase the dawn' with her. Imagine being woken up that early to 'chase the dawn'. I think my first instinct would be something along the lines of FUCK OFF.</span></span><br />
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</span><br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJNr8ukPj_0DsYIk6_5HrU3ehLdy_WPzkpZlhzqeZc-BmKYDQKAjqgKz0qQc3rZuX4idNW2-1WmMvph_3arfF_h8WJmaO64BRHhw_6hWLcg9xG5vUgdwtiw2QcuiCCE7xevtMxB_GrUdbf/s400/img.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJNr8ukPj_0DsYIk6_5HrU3ehLdy_WPzkpZlhzqeZc-BmKYDQKAjqgKz0qQc3rZuX4idNW2-1WmMvph_3arfF_h8WJmaO64BRHhw_6hWLcg9xG5vUgdwtiw2QcuiCCE7xevtMxB_GrUdbf/s400/img.jpg" height="290" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I woke up like dis.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Christian tells Ana to get up because they're going out. "Don’t bother to shower," he says, "We can do that later.”</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">No! You can not do that later! She is on her period! I believe the standard protocol at this delicate time is to shower as often as possible, especially after you've just been stewing the night away (probably naked) in your boyfriend's bed!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ana sensibly goes to wash up in the bathroom and emerges to find Christian having breakfast. Ana's so shocked by someone eating breakfast at such an early hour, she reacts as though she's just walked in to find him nibbling on his housekeeper. Christian tries to force her to eat, which is weird in all kinds of ways, but Ana's having none of it.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After convincing him she'll eat later, he throws her a jumper and they head down to the hotel car park, where the valet hands him the keys to a soft top sports car.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“You know, sometimes it’s great being me,” says Christian. What a smug prick.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They get in his car and start listening to some opera, as you do when you're cruising along at 6am. It's from an opera adapted from a story about a 'doomed courtesan' and obviously Ana has read the book because she's such a literary expert. Then Ana gets hold of Christians iPod and the real laughs begin.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Christian Grey’s iPod, this should be interesting. I scroll through the touch screen, and find the perfect song. I press play. I wouldn’t have figured him for a Britney fan. The club-mix, techno beat assaults us both, and Christian turns the volume down. Maybe it’s too early for this: Britney’s at her most sultry."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">HahahahaHA! He's got Britney Spears on his iPod! HAHA! And apparently Toxic has a 'club-mix, techno beat'. Does E. L. James listen to any music?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is too amazing to be true. No, it genuinely is. Much as I'd love for Christian Grey to be a closet Britney stan, he admits that he didn't put the song on his iPod - it was Layla, an ex-sub of his. It turns out that they ended because she wanted more between them - she wanted more of a relationship.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ana pushes Christian about his previous relationships.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">“Okay. In no particular order, I’ve only had long term relationships with four women,</span></i></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">apart from Elena.”</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“Elena?”</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“Mrs. Robinson to you.” He half smiles his secret private joke smile. Elena! Holy Fuck. The evil one has a name and its all-foreign sounding.</span></i><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's all foreign-sounding?! What in blue fuck is this supposed to mean? First of all, in what world does 'Elena' sound foreign? And secondly, why does Ana perceive it to be at all relevant? I'm literally so confused by this part - are we supposed to conflate foreigners with evil?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They talk a little more about his exes. The majority of his relationships ended because the sub wanted 'more'. It doesn't specify whether the Britney playlist played any part in the matter. Maybe they found out about Christian's tendency to keep used condoms in his pocket.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They turn into an airfield because Christian wants them to go 'soaring'. Ugh, what an embarrassing phrase. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At the airfield, Ana observes that the sky has changed colour, and is 'glowing softly behind the sporadic childlike clouds'. Nope. How can clouds be childlike? Are they shaped like actual children? I have absolutely no idea what kind of image she's trying to convey here. That's like saying 'My meal had childlike sprouts scattered all over it'.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Christian's co-pilot is called Benson. Ana starts reeling off flying details that nobody cares about. "We will be in a Blanik L-23, which is apparently better than the L-13, although this is open to debate. Benson will be flying a Piper Pawnee. He’s been flying tail draggers for about five years now. It all means nothing </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">to me." No, me neither. Maybe shut up, then?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They take off in the Piper Pawnee. "The radio crackles into life, and Mark mentions 3,000 feet. Jeez, that sounds high." Yeah, no shit. Apparently Ana has got a degree. You'd never know from this God-awful narrative. The entire flight thing is incredibly boring and does nothing to further the plot except showcase the fact that Christian is really, obscenely rich. Even when they land the glider in a remote field, he just fucking leaves it there like his maid will fly it home for him.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They get out of the plane, smooch for a bit by the side of the plane (Christian gets an erection from one kiss because the man's clearly an addict and needs to get help) and head for breakfast somewhere. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"I have never seen him like this, and it’s a joy to behold. I find myself walking beside him, hand in hand, with a stupid, goofy grin plastered on my face. It reminds me of when I was ten and spending the day in Disneyland with Ray." Eugh. Please tell me she didn't just liken a sexy, romantic, erection-inducing flying experience to going to Disneyworld with her dad?! I'm sensing a real undercurrent of tension between Ana and Ray. Anyone else?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Back in the car, as we head back along I-95 towards Savannah, my phone alarm goes</span></i></span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">off. Oh yes… my pill.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“What’s that?” Christian asks, curious, glancing at me.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I fumble in my purse for the packet.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“Alarm for my pill,” I mutter as my cheeks flush.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">His lips quirk up.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“Good, well done. I hate condoms.”"</span></i><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">ARGH. For the love of GOD, ladies - don't let your man hating condoms be the only reason you go on the pill. Do it because you want control over your reproductive system, do it because you want to reign in your hormones, but don't, whatever you do, go on the pill just because your man doesn't feel like wrapping it up. That's the kind of comment you'd expect from a 17-year-old kid, not some supposedly mature businessman with years of experience. I really do hate this book.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">(Also - really, really sick of being constantly reminded about periods, condoms, contraception, pregnancy and the like. This is not erotica - it's just some woman's stream-of-consciousness fantasy that hasn't been structured or planned beforehand. She's just writing it up as it comes to her. It's shite.)</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They go for pancakes at IHOP. Christian says that he already knows what he wants, and Ana responds with, "I want what you want." Really? Are we trying to make pancakes sexy now? The waitress comes over to take the order and, just like every woman in the book, the country, the world, she's transfixed by Christian. He orders their meal and she squeaks and scurries off, because apparently, all women confronted by a good-looking man turn to mush in an instant.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They start to negotiate the terms of the contract in more detail. Ana wants to sleep in bed with Christian. She wants to be treated more as an equal than a sub, but then Ana offers to pay for the pancakes and Christian says it makes him feel 'emasculated'. Was this written in 2010 or 1910? In what world are men still emasculated by a woman buying a meal for them? </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Christian drives Ana back to her mum's house - he doesn't ask the address, he already knows it. <b>CREEPY.</b> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.snarksquad.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/stalker-boyfriend-cliche.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" src="http://www.snarksquad.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/12/stalker-boyfriend-cliche.png" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He kisses her goodbye and says he'll see her later - he's coming round for dinner, remember? Ana's mum is stressing out about entertaining a multi-zillionaire in her house, but it wouldn't actually surprise me too much if Christian brought his own personal chef in tow. She needn't panic.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ana emails Christian, who tells her that she was talking her in sleep and it was very interesting. I bet you a thousand quid it's not at all interesting.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Later, as Ana is out browsing for food to cook for Christian, she gets a call about the job interview she went for, with another obscenely rich, arrogant guy who can't seem to get enough of her. She got the job! Yay! But as she gets off the phone, she notices a missed call from Christian. She calls him back and discovers he has to go back to Seattle for something urgently. Ana freaks out and thinks it <i>must</i> be something to do with Mrs Robinson, it just <i>must</i>. She wishes she could have been a fly on the wall - perhaps landing on her wine glass and choking Elena to death. I wish I could be a fly, because don't those things have like a fifteen minute lifespan? It'd save me from this damn novel.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ana and her family have a barbecue that night, and Ana just emails Christian throughout. Like, when does this girl ever do anything that isn't related to Christian? Does she ever read? Catch up on current events? Paint her toenails? Watch TV? Talk to her family?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ana begs Christian to tell her what she said in her sleep. He says no, because he'd prefer her to say it in consciousness first. Ana growls at him and Christians says he possesses a cat of his own for growlers. Wink wink. Ana's all like, he has a cat? I've never seen one in his apartment... oh Ana.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Orgasm count: None! Hallelujah! A chapter devoted to character development! Kind of...</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Number of mouthwateringly naked feet: 2</span><br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-86577174450624427012014-07-20T11:44:00.000-07:002015-02-18T11:27:01.422-08:00Chapter Twenty Three<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">We last left our heroine on the other side of the country, being
stalked by the man who has flown for thousands of miles to see (supervise) her because
he can’t bear to leave her alone for twenty-four hours.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“I have neglected to mention Christian’s stalker tendencies
to my mom,” says Ana. Huh. You’d think that’d be one of the first things you’d
mention about your new bf, but whatever. Ana eventually spots Christian and he saunters
over. Naturally (and disappointingly) her mother’s jaw hits the floor. Is there
a single woman in this book who can hold a conversation with this man without
melting into a pile of wibble on the floor? Sheesh.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana notices that Christian seems tense; mad, almost. She
wonders whether it’s because she mentioned ‘Mrs Robinson’, or could it be the
fact she’s on her fourth Cosmo? She’s actually wondering whether this stalker
is mad at her for having four (yes FOUR – book her into AA stat) alcoholic
drinks. “I’m drinking with my mother, there’s no way he can be angry about that…”
muses Ana. You’re right, girl. But I’m sure he’ll find a way to justify it.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Christian starts flirting with the two of them and all he
has to do is touch Ana’s hand before she’s whinging about how much she <i>wants him</i>. Spare me. Ana’s mother
excuses herself to the powder room and Ana decides to come right out with what’s
bothering her.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“I think of [Mrs Robinson] as a child molester, Christian.”
No build up, no easing into this tricky subject – she’s just putting it right
out there. Christian gets a bit sniffy and says it wasn’t at all like that, and
calls Ana judgemental, which she is, but you know, I think you’re allowed to
get a bit judgey where underage sex is concerned.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana being the nitwit she is, instead of discussing the topic
like an adult and trying to understand Christian’s point of view, starts whinging
about how it makes her jealous. But Christian tells her he’s business partners
with the woman, and has been friends with her for years. Ana comes right out
and calls Mrs Robinson a paedophile, and you’re suddenly aware that our heroine
is a rare breed – a childish hypocrite with disposable morals and a very narrow
mind. When it comes to Christian and his questionable morals tugging on her
pubes and tying her up, everything’s all fine and dandy, but the thought of
anyone else doing the same? NOPE.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana’s mother comes back from the toilets and says something
about the ‘UST’ being unbearable. In case you’re in the dark, UST is a
fanfiction acronym for ‘unresolved sexual tension’ – and is definitely not
something that people say in everyday life. It’s kind of like asking someone
A/S/L? to their face.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Christian disappears off and Ana’s mother urges Ana to chase
desperately after him, like all self-respecting women should be encouraged to
do when they’re mad about something. I know that when I’ve had an argument with
someone and called their ex a paedophile, I always like to go running after
them, shedding dignity like snakeskin, begging their forgiveness.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana goes to Christian’s room, he’s chatting away on his
phone to imaginary people called ‘Bill’ and ‘Georgia’. When he gets off the phone, instead of sitting
down and talking it out – yep, you guessed it – things turn all slow and
sensual again and they start referring to each other by their surnames like they’ve
morphed into softcore porn actors.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Christian kind of ruins the moment by asking Ana if she’s
bleeding, and suddenly I don’t want to read any further because I’m totally convinced
that he’s going to pull out her tampon with his teeth or something. He asks her
if she wants to get in the bath, which is somehow even more disgusting because
the last thing you want to do when you’re on your period is stew in a bath
filled with your own menstrual blood, WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND IN THERE TOO.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">He starts undressing her and running the bath, and Ana can’t
stop looking at the ‘libidinous woman in the mirror falling apart under her own
hands’. Tell me ladies, do any of you feel like this when you’re on your
period? When it’s that special time of the month, do you feel much like
writhing around naked in front of your boyfriend, or do you want to put on your
biggest knickers, eat ice cream and cry at animal adopted adverts on the TV?
Yeah, that’s what I thought. But somehow, Ana is totally turned on.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Things are getting a bit out of hand again: “When did you
start your period, Anastasia?” Christian asks. She tells him yesterday. Then he
<b><i><u>turns
her around, pulls out her tampon and throws it in the toilet. </u></i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.thefrisky.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/29/shocked-GIF.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" src="http://www.thefrisky.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/29/shocked-GIF.gif" height="231" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I’m sorry, WHAT NOW?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">This is the actual excerpt for you, so you can just verify
that I’m not making this up for sheer comedic / vomit-inducing content value.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“Hold onto the sink,”
he orders, and pulls my hips back again, like he did in the playroom, so I’m
bending down.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">He reaches between my
legs and pulls on the blue string… what!... And… a gently pulls out my tampon and
throws it in the nearby toilet.<o:p></o:p></span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.xclusivetouch.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/Threw-Up-In-Mouth-Toilet-Hygine-Work.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" src="http://www.xclusivetouch.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2014/02/Threw-Up-In-Mouth-Toilet-Hygine-Work.gif" height="185" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">DO NOT WANT.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Listen, I’m not against having sex on your period, it’s
total personal preference – that’s cool. But this is EROTICA. This is supposed
to be a SEXY novel – there is nothing in this book to suggest this is meant to
be perceived as realism, so why is there an excerpt where he actually pulls out
her tampon? WHY? Why did this have to happen? I can only imagine that the
braindead folk that enjoyed this book are reading it precisely to experience
some kind of escape from their mundane life – they want thrilling, sensual sex
scenes, THEY DON’T WANT TO READ ABOUT TAMPONS AND PERIOD SEX.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">They have wild period sex. I can’t get into it because I’m
sure there must be blood all over his beautiful clean hotel bathroom. They get
in the bath – more grossness. Have a shower, please, it’s so much more hygienic
in this situation. Now you’re not only stewing in menstrual blood, but sexual
fluids too. This is so not turning me on.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana speculates that the scars on Christian’s chest are not
from chicken-pox, and deduces that they must be cigarette burns from Mrs
Robinson. Christian totally shuts down – he wants fuss-free period sex, not
serious child abuse kinda talk. He tries to defend his previous lover by saying
that if it weren’t for her, he’d have gone the way of his birth mother.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“Crack addict or whore? Possibly both?” Ana wonders to
herself. Is this the way that all women are categorised in the 50 Shades world?<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Christian quite clearly doesn’t want to talk about his old
relationships, but Ana keeps pushing him. He eventually gets pretty mad, and
Ana is all apologetic. “Jeez – maybe it’s the Cosmopolitans making me brave,
but suddenly I cannot bear the distance between us.” (They’re across the bath
tub from one another.)<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">He turns the table on Ana and starts quizzing her on their
relationship – how she feels about him, why she never responded to his email.
(Imagine flying across the country to ask your partner why they hadn’t replied
to an email. IMAGINE.)<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.picgifs.com/reaction-gifs/reaction-gifs/do-not-want/do-not-want093.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" src="http://www.picgifs.com/reaction-gifs/reaction-gifs/do-not-want/do-not-want093.gif" /></span></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana gives him no straight answers and Christian speculates
he might have to spank her again. They start kissing and things get all steamy
again; before you know it, they’re having sex right there in the period bath.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Later on, they’re lay in Christian’s big bed talking about inconsequential
things that don’t further the plot one little bit. They’re both naked – I sincerely
hope she’s wearing a tampon. You’d assume that she must be, but you just can’t
be sure in this messed up book.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-31323037302240149682013-09-08T09:51:00.000-07:002015-02-18T11:26:15.247-08:00Chapter Twenty Two<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana gets to have a manicure and a
massage as part of being in First Class, and then she sips a champagne cocktail
and has the inspired idea of telling Christian about the smart young man who
rubbed her down thoroughly. That’s a great idea, Ana. You spent the last
chapter chastising your friend for winding up your jealous boyfriend because
you were scared of the ramifications, and now you’re going to do it yourself?
Why are you so stupid?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The flight attendant passes by and
tells Ana she needs to stow her laptop for take-off, before offering a warm
blanket for her knees. “It’s nice to feel mollycoddled sometimes,” observes
Ana. SOMETIMES? Ana’s life is one long mollycoddle, from everyone in it,
whether it’s Kate, Christian, Jose or this damn flight attendant.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">““Cabin crew, doors to
automatic and cross check.” What does that mean? Are they closing the doors?”
Lord, give me strength the continue reading this book. The plane takes off, and
Ana takes a sneak peek at her Blackberry. I am 100% sure they tell you not to
do this in case you risk interfering with air traffic control signals? But who
gives a shit about that - Ana’s demanding boyfriend has sent her an important
email! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Christian tells Ana that if she carries on making him jealous she’ll be
bound and gagged in the cargo hold on her return journey. <i>Rejoice, for romance is not dead.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana has a change in
Atlanta, and while she waits in the departure lounge, she takes out her laptop
and types a stream of consciousness email to Christian. I thought the whole
book up to this point had been a stream of depressing consciousness, but I was
sadly wrong. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The email is a mess, she talks about how she’s ‘caught up in
his spell’ and how she’s scared he will hurt her ‘physically and emotionally’.
I can’t reiterate this enough: if you are scared that a man will hurt you ‘physically
and emotionally’ you really need to <i>get
the hell out of there</i>. No woman should have to live in fear that her boyfriend
is going to harm her. She says she will scared she won’t be submissive enough for
him and will end up ‘black and blue’. <i>THIS
IS NOT HOT. <o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">So Ana finally arrives in
Savannah and meets her Mom and Bob. She bursts out crying when she sees her
family, for not really any reason at all, then she texts Kate, Christian and
Ray. This is what it says: “Arrived Safely in Savannah. A J” Why is that capital
letter there? Is this a song title? It honestly baffles me that someone with
such a rudimentary grasp of grammar and the English language could have written
and published not one, but <i>three</i> best-selling
novels.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana and her Mom head to
the beach when she arrives. “I am in my blue halter neck tankini, sipping a
Diet Coke, on a sun bed facing the Atlantic Ocean, and to think that only
yesterday I was staring out at the Sound toward the Pacific.” That’s sort of
how planes work. You get on one, and then when you get off, you’re not in the
same place that you were. It’s not really that hard to grasp.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana’s psychic Mom
magically predicts that Ana is seeing someone and demands to know who has got
her in ‘such a spin’. Ana tells her Mom about Christian (leaving out all the parts
she would definitely want to know), and instead saying, “He’s wealthy… too
wealthy. He’s very complicated and mercurial.” <i>Who even talks like that?</i> If I told my Mum that my boyfriend was ‘complicated
and mercurial’ she would probably ask if that meant he was poisonous. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana’s mother
gives her a load of advice about taking men literally and trying not to analyse
everything they say. “I gaze at my mom. She is on her fourth marriage. Maybe
she does know something about men after all.” Is this supposed to be sarcastic
or is this just a really bad joke? I’d say being on her fourth marriage would mean
she’s probably not the best person to ask how male minds function.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">When Ana gets home she
logs into her email account to check if she has a reply from Christian. She
does. It’s like eighteen pages. Front and back. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">He wonders why she has to put a
country between them before she can start to be honest about her feelings, and I
wonder if anyone, <i>anyone</i> in this
novel has considered the fact that Ana is not mature enough to be entering into
the agreement she’s signed up for.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“I don’t know how to
answer your comment about feeling like a whore,” it says in the letter. “I know
that’s not what you’ve written, but it’s what you imply. I don’t know what I
can say or do to eradicate these feelings. I’d like you to have the best of
everything. I work exceptionally hard, so I can spend my money as I see fit. I
could buy you your heart’s desire, Anastasia, and I want to.” So… you want her
to completely submit to you in a sexual way, you want to <i>reward</i> her with expensive gifts and a lavish lifestyle, and you don’t
want her to feel like a whore. Right, gotcha.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_md72ozeMu81rsw1yf.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" src="http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_md72ozeMu81rsw1yf.gif" height="176" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">He goes on to say that in
a dom/sub relationship, the sub has all the power. I’m not sure if he believes
this or is just using it as a tool to convince Ana what she’s doing is fine. “I
want to share my lifestyle with you. I have never wanted anything so much,” he
says. Interesting choice of words. If this were a romance novel, it would most
likely say ‘I want to share my <i>life</i>
with you’, but this is a novel about materialistic desires and submitting to powerful
men who can provide for them in a financial way. So it’s ‘lifestyle’.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“Holy crap,” thinks Ana. “He’s
written an essay like we’re back at school – and most of it good.” Like we’re
back at school! Why can’t the references to being a child stop?! There are ways
that a woman can be portrayed as innocent and virginal without constantly likening
her to an <i>actual child.</i> Ana has a
huge epiphany about Christian’s essay and realises that spending four days
without him will be sheer hell. She falls asleep at her laptop salivating at
the idea of Christian just being his abusive, domineering self. Yech.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">When she wakes up, her Mom
says that they’re going for dinner. Ana puts on Kate’s grey halter neck dress
(KATE’S DRESS. KATE’S. NOT ANA’S, KATE’S. If I was Kate I’d get pretty sick of
my best friend not owning a single piece of clothing of her own). She emails
Christian a little and they get talking about sex, because there hasn’t been <i>nearly</i> enough about bums and spanking in
this chapter so far, and then she heads down for dinner. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Mom: “You look lovely,
dear.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana: “Oh, this is Kate’s
dress. You like it?”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST WE
GET IT, IT’S KATE’S DRESS.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://25.media.tumblr.com/3ccc3cacb73ec13363a6d915242b588c/tumblr_msn6xilKj31richfvo1_400.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/3ccc3cacb73ec13363a6d915242b588c/tumblr_msn6xilKj31richfvo1_400.gif" height="142" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I CAN’T.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">There is literally not
even any point in the paragraph, except to point out once more that Ana is
wearing Kate’s dress. We don’t even get to see what they chat about at dinner
because the next moment, Ana is stood in the shower about to get ready for bed.
She has an email from Christian she <i>must</i>
reply to first. They chat for a while and Christian tells Ana that he is having
dinner with an old friend. Predictably, Ana loses her shit. “Searing, green,
bilious jealousy courses through me unexpectedly.” She wants them to have a
healthy relationship but he’s not allowed to have any friends. Sure, okay, that
makes sense. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana tries to cool herself
down by Googling Christian (as you do) but eventually ends up sending him an
email asking if he was having dinner with ‘Mrs Robinson’, his ex-dom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“Part of me is desperate
to know more, and another part wants to forget he ever told me. And my period
has started, so I must remember to take my pill in the morning.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://24.media.tumblr.com/eaa51b98a40e25c3e9e03b843defca87/tumblr_mn06piUX3X1ry4q0lo1_400.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" src="http://24.media.tumblr.com/eaa51b98a40e25c3e9e03b843defca87/tumblr_mn06piUX3X1ry4q0lo1_400.gif" height="222" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I’m not even kidding, this
is how this section of the chapter ends. I get she’s going for realism but THIS
IS TOO MUCH.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"> </span></div>
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<div class="Publishwithline">
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana spends the next evening sipping
on cocktails with her Mom, who dispenses a lot of great advice about men. And
by ‘great’, I mean ‘absolutely fucking useless’. “You see, Ana, men think that
anything that comes out of a woman’s mouth is a problem to be solved. Not some
vague idea that we’d like to kick around and talk about for a while and then
forget.” What?! Try to <i>make sense, </i>I
implore you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">When Ana’s Mom goes to the
‘powder room’ (nobody says this anymore), Ana checks her phone to find an email
from Christian confirming that yes, he had dinner with his friend and ex-dom, ‘Mrs
Robinson’. “I am away for two days, and he runs off to that evil bitch,” muses
Ana. It is interesting to note that when Christian is the sub, the woman who
played the dom is labelled an ‘evil bitch’; what does that make Christian when
he is the dom? In Ana’s eyes, I’d say that makes him fairly evil.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana sends a snarky email
back, and here’s the kicker. Christian responds saying, “This is not something
I wish to discuss via email. How many Cosmopolitans are you doing to drink?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify; text-justify: inter-ideograph;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>Holy fuck, he’s here</i>, thinks Ana. MY THOUGHTS EXACTLY.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The man has followed her
on her private holiday to visit her mother. He has secretly got on a plane and
followed her, possibly for the entire 48 hours she’s been in Georgia so far. He
has STALKED HER.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><w:sdt contentlocked="t" id="89512093" sdtgroup="t"><span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 1.0pt; mso-ansi-language: EN-GB; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: EN-GB; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-fareast; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><w:sdtpr></w:sdtpr><w:sdt docpart="0CC46908B8614E6F8369A5EB32B36B0D" id="89512082" storeitemid="X_5F329CAD-B019-4FA6-9FEF-74898909AD20" text="t" title="Post Title" xpath="/ns0:BlogPostInfo/ns0:PostTitle"></w:sdt></span>
</w:sdt>
</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://25.media.tumblr.com/a593e94642d74312e28eb9db056f6213/tumblr_mshq5bhglZ1szgkgbo1_500.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" src="http://25.media.tumblr.com/a593e94642d74312e28eb9db056f6213/tumblr_mshq5bhglZ1szgkgbo1_500.gif" height="181" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I think we'll finish here for today.</span></div>
</div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-90381576528224990082013-09-07T07:18:00.001-07:002015-02-18T11:32:31.345-08:00Chapter Twenty One<div class="Publishwithline" style="text-align: justify;">
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<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Chapter Twenty One<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">The last
post ended on a bombshell about Christian's mother being a crack whore.
"Holy fuck. What does that mean?" wonders Anastasia. It's nice to see
that after a long break, the protagonist is still as gormless and clueless as
ever. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">What does
it mean? I'd wager it means that his mother was a crack whore, as that's what
he said. Ana fall asleep and dreams about a little boy with grey eyes and then
wakes up. She thinks for a few moments about the utter horror of the revelation
that Christian dropped last night, but then gets to thinking about the more
important stuff: <i>their relationship.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">She has a
good old whinge to herself about whether Christian will try to be a real
boyfriend or not. "I need to clarify between us to see if we are still at
opposite ends on the see-saw or if we are inching closer together." I'm
sorry, is this a phrase? It's ludicrous. At first I found the image of them
both in a children’s playground, shuffling towards each other on the see-saw,
quite funny, but then I realised that we’re back to the child-like
descriptions. Yikes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana goes
looking for Christian and finds a woman stood in his kitchen; she's described
as blonde-haired, blue-eyed and attractive, with a business-like tone. Don't
forget - to be a successful female in the 50 Shades universe, you need to be a
hot blonde!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"Why
does Christian only have attractive blondes working for him?" wonders Ana,
as she finds out from the woman that Christian is in his study and sets off to
find him. Why, indeed? She enters his study and finds him on his phone, and
when he sees her, her smiles a smile that is 'too beautiful for the little
people below'. Shut up Ana. E. L. James is such a Tory.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"Good
morning, Miss Steele," he says as he finishes on the phone. The whole
'Miss Steele' and 'Mr Grey' thing was a bit of a novelty when they were
acquaintances, but they've been having sex all over Seattle for the best part
of a month now, you'd think they'd dispense with the cringe-worthy formalities.
The author obviously thinks it’s very endearing and an example of the great
banter and rapport that they share.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"I
just came in to say hi before I had a shower," says Ana. She's crossed his
palatial apartment and disturbed him while he was taking an important phone call
just to say hello before she gets in the shower. Clingy. Dependent. Scary. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">They
kiss, and Christian gets all growly: "I suggest you go and have your
shower, or I shall lay you across my desk, now." Not even been awake for
five minutes, I tell you.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Christian
does that awful cliche thing of sweeping everything off his desk with one arm.
"You want it, you got it, baby," he says. Urrrrggggghhhhh. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">There's
another full paragraph about the technicalities of putting on a condom, as
though it's a really complicated process and we all need reminding how it's
done. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"<i>Oh,
Mr Boy Scout,"</i> thinks Ana. WHAT?! I don't understand what's just
been said. Boy scout? Why? I'm pretty sure that if your significant other had
just swept the contents of his desk to the floor and indicated he was going to
absolutely ravish you on it, the last thing on your mind would be <i>boy
scouts.</i> What a weird thought process.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://indulgy.ccio.co/or/ec/oX/2869638074759915305QNYDNCZc.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" src="http://indulgy.ccio.co/or/ec/oX/2869638074759915305QNYDNCZc.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><u1:p></u1:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">If you're thinking
about this while having sex, you're doing it wrong.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">They have
sex. It's pretty much like every other time they've previously had sex so far
in this book. Lots of groaning, Ana has a mind-blowing orgasm and there's some
really bad grammar and upsettingly bad dialogue. For a book about whips and
stuff, there sure are a lot of samey sex scenes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"Come
on baby, give it up for me," says Christian. I can't speak for others but
if someone said this to me in the heat of the moment, I'd have to respond by
vomiting on their face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">They both
orgasm and lie on his desk panting for a bit. "Wow... that was
unexpected," thinks Ana. Was it? Was it really? We all know that's a lie.
They exchange some chat about how much they 'beguile' one another. Disgusting.
Again, if any man ever said that I 'beguiled' him, there would be vomit, and it
would be on his face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana looks
down at the condom packet that's still there on his desk (I wonder if he ever
got rid of that one he put in his pocket? I wonder what he's going to do with
this one? This is the most enthralling part of the plot). "Always
prepared," Ana murmurs. "A man can hope, Anastasia, dream even, and
sometimes his dreams come true." That's a bit deep as a response to the
observation that he always has a condom on him. The dialogue in this book is so
weird. Imagine if someone said that in real life?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana goes
back to take her shower. She has another whinge about how much she can't
understand Christian. "We had sex... and then he wasn't." That is an
actual sentence from the book. Please at lease <i>try</i> to make
some sense. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana has
some sort of internal conference with her subconscious and her inner goddess;
the three of them all trying to figure it out. "No - we're all
clueless," she thinks. <i>Yes, yes we are</i>. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">She
finishes her shower, gets out and puts her hair up. KATE'S PLUM DRESS hangs
laundered and ironed in the closet. Kate's dress, don't forget. Kate's plum
dress. Ana heads back into the kitchen where she tells the housekeeper she
doesn't want anything to eat.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">"Of
course you'll have something to eat. She likes pancakes, bacon and eggs, Mrs
Jones," says Christian, striding in. Then he orders Ana to 'sit', like a
dog. I would tell him where he could shove his pancakes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">They
start talking about Ana's upcoming trip to Georgia, and Christian offers Ana
use of his company jet. Of course he does. At this point, Ana is just arguing
with him for the sake of it; she flat out refuses and says she'd rather fork
out to fly economy on a scheduled flight. I'm not sure what grounds she's
refusing on really. She wants him to open up and be a 'real' boyfriend for her,
but she shuts him out when he offers to help her? She sure picks her moments to
come over all feminist. I wish she'd have one of those stubborn moments when it
comes to signing that damn contract that all but makes her his property.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">They get
to talking about the job interviews that Ana has later that day. "Are you
going to track my phone?" Ana asks. "Actually, I'll be quite busy
this afternoon. I'll have to get someone else to do it," replies
Christian. He is absolutely not kidding.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Later on,
Ana is at her interview for 'Seattle Independent Publishing' with a Mr Jack
Hyde. She says it's exactly where she wants to be. The book talks for a while
about her surroundings, how excited she is about the job, and then wildly
straying from the narrative as is the author’s habit, we’re suddenly talking
about Ana’s upcoming trip to Georgia. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“Christian
has ordered me to take my BlackBerry and the Mac. I roll my eyes at the memory
of his overbearing bossiness, but I realise now that’s just the way he is. He
likes control over everything, including me.” Nope, this isn’t okay. Now you’re
not even attempting to fight back against his controlling and abusive nature,
you’re just accepting it. “He can be tender, good-humored, even sweet.” I’m
sure many women say this about their abusive partners when they’re trying to
justify staying with them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana gets
called in for her interview. “I am wearing one of Kate’s dresses, a black
pinafore over a white blouse, and my black pumps.” Another one of KATE’S
DRESSES. GOT THAT? KATE’S DRESS. Nothing Ana owns can possibly be considered
smart or stylish because she’s just such a hopeless mess. It really is a good
job that this rich and powerful man is here to look after her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana meets
Jack Hyde, the guy who runs the publishing house. She’s creeped out by him for
a reason she can’t describe. Let’s rewind for a second. Ana has taken part in
two interviews in the course of the book. One is with Jack, who is rich,
powerful, runs his own company, a little creepy, full of innuendo, and with red
hair and two earrings. Christian is rich, powerful, runs his own company, a
little creepy, full of innuendo and general consensus is that he’s absolutely
smoking. What is the difference between these two men? NOTHING. NOT A SINGLE
THING. Ana has taken a shine to powerful, creepy Christian because he is <i>hot</i>,
and she’s wary of powerful, creepy Jack because he isn’t.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">(Incidentally
– how long is this chapter?! Really great show of narrative planning here.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana gets
the job on the spot (of course she does!) and goes back to the apartment; she’s
flying to Georgia in the morning and needs to pack. She runs into Kate, and
starts lecturing her about winding up Christian. “Incidentally, will you please
stop winding Christian up? Your comment about José at dinner yesterday was out
of line. He’s a jealous guy. It doesn’t do any good, you know.” In other words,
“Will you please placate my boyfriend because he’s scary and controlling and I
don’t know what he’ll do to me if I step out of line.”<u1:p></u1:p> Eek.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana
confesses to Kate that she’s really falling for Christian, but that they’ve not
been talking so much as ‘non-verbally’ communicating. Kate comes out with this
little gem: “That’ll be the sexing! If that’s going well, then that’s half the
battle Ana.” Of <i>course</i>, because once you’ve shown a man how good
you are in bed, he’s bound to like you! That’s what us girls are primarily here
for anyway!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Kate leaves
to get Chinese takeout and, within the space of about thirty seconds, Ana manages
to convince herself that Christian is having a relationship with his
housekeeper, Mrs Jones, because in this world, no man can have a working
relationship within a woman without him dragging her into the Womb Room for
hanging-from-the-ceiling sex. The email conversation is a bit pointless;
Christian tells her nothing is going on between him and his maid and they do
that awfully annoying ‘banter’ thing and Christian wishes her a safe flight to
Atlanta.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Kate
drives the two of them to the airport and when Ana tries to check in, she
discovers that her flight has been upgraded. That fucking Christian Grey,
upgrading her to first class. What a dick. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-45118685161810100092012-08-23T15:55:00.003-07:002015-02-18T11:16:19.763-08:00Chapter Twenty<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><b>Chapter Twenty</b><br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Christian bursts into the boathouse and turns all the lights on.
“Fluorescents ping and buzz in sequence as harsh white light floods the large
wooden building,” Ana notices. Christian proceeds to carry Ana upstairs,
flicking on more lights, ‘halogens this time’. These descriptive skills could
do with some work; how many times have you heard of someone walking into a room
and the first thing they notice is the potential energy-saving credentials of
the light bulbs?<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">As Christian sets her down, Ana looks at him and notices that he
looks like a ‘rare and dangerous predator’ – what, you mean like a vampire?
FANFICTION REFERENCE ALERT.<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“Please don’t hit me,” Ana pleads. If this is something you
routinely say to your other half, please, I beg you,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>reconsider your relationship.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Ana seems to have confused Christian
with this request, and while she has him stunned, she starts stroking his
stubbly face. Christian seems to enjoy it, and Ana feels brave, so she starts
to kiss him. “He tastes divine,” she tells us. I’m quite sure that he doesn’t,
he’s just eaten a whole roast dinner and necked some red wine, which can make
for stale breath at the best of times.<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Christian asks her why she’s kissing him, and seems genuinely
confused by it. Apparently the fact that she didn’t want him to grope her at
his parents’ dining table led him to believe that she never wanted to have sex
with him ever again. Why is everything so dramatic in this book?! No sane
person would think this. A sane person would probably just accept the fact that
his girlfriend probably didn’t want to engage in sexual activity whilst in the
middle of a meal with her new in-laws.<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“No one’s ever said no to me before. And it’s so – hot.” Of course
Christian would find it a turn-on that someone has said no to him. Why don’t
more people understand that this man has seriously abusive tendencies?!<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Christian goes on to say that he’s mad at her for a whole load of
things (none of which are actually worthy of anger whatsoever); he’s angry that
she didn’t tell him that she was going to visit her mum, he’s angry because she
went for a drink with her friend and didn’t tell him, and he’s angry because
she didn’t let him feel her up at the dinner table.<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div align="center">
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<td style="padding: 3.0pt 4.5pt 4.5pt 4.5pt;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m88byluVJ51rrhz69.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" src="http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m88byluVJ51rrhz69.gif" /></span></a></div>
<div align="center" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Bye.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“If you’re not going to let me spank you – which you deserve – I’m
going to fuck you on the couch this minute, quickly, for my pleasure, not
yours,” he says. Maybe it’s just me, but I always thought that sex was supposed
to be a shared experience, causing pleasure for both parties involved.
Obviously I’m wrong about that. “He moves suddenly so that his hand is cupping
my sex.” If you’re going to write a grown-up story, please use the grown-up
words. “This is mine,” he whispers aggressively. “All mine. Do you understand?”
Oh, lovely. Just lovely. This really is the romance of the century.<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“We don’t have long. This will be quick, and it’s for me, not you.
Do you understand? Don’t come, or I will spank you,” says Christian. Yep, I can
definitely see why this fictional character would have women queuing up outside
his door. Sounds like a right treat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">There’s yet another paragraph voted to Christian tearing open a
foil packet and putting a condom on, as though it needs a thorough explanation
every time.<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“Don’t touch yourself,” Christian says when he’s finished. “I want
you frustrated. That’s what you do to me by not talking to me, by denying me
what’s mine.” What’s<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>yours</i>?
Tell me, ladies: would it turn you on if a man told you that he had claimed
your vagina and it was now his?<u1:p></u1:p> My vagina is mine, thank you very
much.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Christian stands up, takes off his condom, ties a knot in the end
of it and<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>puts it in his
pocket.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>So just bear in mind,
the next time there’s a mention of smouldering grey eyes or his sexy jawline,
that there will be a half-full sack of semen squashed into the pocket of his
jeans for the remainder of this chapter. Remember when Christian came to visit
Ana and threw his used condom on the floor? Doesn’t anyone in this book own a
bin? Has Christian forgotten that they’re in a boathouse and he could quite
easily just chuck it in the grass and hope that one of his family’s gardeners
finds it? Does his really have to carry his own spunk around<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>in his pocket</i>?!<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">It seems that Christian has stowed his love-juice just in time;
minutes later, Mia appears on the lower floor of the boathouse. “CHRISTIAN!”
she yells. Jesus, she’s annoying. She’s come to tell them that Kate and Elliot
are leaving so they should all say goodbye. “What have you two been doing in
here?” she asks, her eyes narrowing. What a dim girl. She should check
Christian’s pockets if she really wants to know the answer to that.<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">They go back into the house and say goodbye to Kate and Elliot.
Ana wants to know why Kate kept antagonising Christian. “He needs antagonising,
then you can see what he’s really like,” Kate says. I don’t approve of her
methods but I agree with her point. “I KNOW WHAT HE’S REALLY LIKE – YOU DON’T!”
Ana screams in her head, in caps.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Christian says that they’d better head off because Ana has her
interviews tomorrow (oh right!<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Those</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>interviews!) and there’s a whole
sickening goodbye sequence where his parents gush over Ana and say how pleased
they are that Christian has finally found someone. Vomit.<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">They get into the Audi and Taylor, who has been waiting for them
outside the whole time, drives them home. During the journey, Ana has another
mood swing and completely convinces herself that Christian never really wanted
her at the dinner, and that he only invited her because he had to. Readers,
does Christian Grey strike you as a man who would do something because he felt
like he had to? No, me neither. But Ana, who proclaimed (in all caps) to know
this man very well mere paragraphs earlier, thinks he would.<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“Why are you so filled with self-doubt? It never ceases to amaze
me,” says Christian. “You’re such a strong, self-contained young woman, but you
have such negative thoughts about yourself.” Haha, really? Turns out that
Christian doesn’t know Ana that well either.<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">At this point, Christian asks whether he can come with Ana to see
her mother in Georgia. This would be a great point for me to stop and just
reiterate that these two have known each other for less than a month and have
been seeing each other for around two weeks. Fourteen days.<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">What follows is the most mindless conversation I’ve ever seen
published. It goes like this:<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">C: “Are you laughing at me, Miss Steele?”<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">A: “I wouldn’t dare, Mr. Grey.”<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">C: “I think you dare, and I think you do laugh at me, frequently.”<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">A: “You are quite funny.”<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">C: “Funny?”<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">A: “Oh yes.”<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">C: “Funny peculiar or funny ha ha?”<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">A: “Oh… a lot of one and some of the other.”<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">C: “Which way round?”<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">A: “I’ll leave you to figure that out.”<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>What are they even talking about?!</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>The most amazing books are the ones where not a single word is
wasted; every syllable is laden with meaning, and contributes to the story or
to some form of character development. And then you get these two fucking nits
taking up an entire page with this nonsense, saying everything and yet<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>saying absolutely nothing at all of
worth.</i><o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
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<a href="http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m8fmsjxUut1r80egv.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" src="http://media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m8fmsjxUut1r80egv.gif" height="210" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div align="center" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Me
reading this book.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<u1:p><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Talk turns to Ana still wanting ‘more’ from this relationship.
More than him taking her on a helicopter tour of Seattle at night, more than
him doing things he’s never done for any woman before, more than meeting his
family within two weeks. How much more is there?! She contemplates the fact
that she loves him, but his mood swings and ‘scary vices’ put her off. <o:p></o:p></span></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">“This man, whom I once thought of as a romantic hero – a brave
shining white knight, or the dark knight as he said. He’s not a hero, he’s a
man with serious, deep emotional flaws, and he’s dragging me into the dark. Can
I not guide him into the light?” Ana, if you’re so intent on changing him, you
don’t love Christian, you obviously love the idea of what Christian<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>could be</i>. Important difference.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana, who didn’t want Christian to touch her leg at the dinner
table, clearly has no problem with climbing all over him while Taylor is up
front in the driving seat. She unbuckles her seat belt and throws herself at
him, promising to sign his stupid contract in a spur of the moment decision
after a few glasses of wine. Wise.<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">When they get back to Christian’s apartment, it becomes
increasingly obvious that they’re going to have sex<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>again.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>So far in this one day, that’s a few
times in the Womb Room, once in the boathouse and now again at the apartment.
Four or five times in a day. Is this normal? No, I’m genuinely asking, because
if it is, I’ve been getting conned my whole life.<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana says that she doesn’t want to fuck. She wants to make love.
Doesn’t she remember what Christian said, when he was wearing his sexy ripped
jeans?<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://famewatcher.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/angelo-garcia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://famewatcher.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/angelo-garcia.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">I
don't make love. I fuck,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>hard.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Christian is absolutely bewildered by this suggestion. Things
start to turn sour: Christian literally says no to making love, and says that
Ana touching him, especially on his chest, is a hard limit. Ana nags him a
little, but he throws her a t-shirt and tells her to get into bed. There’s a
little interlude where they go and brush their teeth and don’t talk about
anything much. It’s really pointless, as is much of this book.<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana asks how Christian would feel if the tables were turned and he
couldn’t touch her. It’s a fair point, but she’s setting herself up for
something dangerous by questioning his hard limits. Surely he doesn’t have to
give reasons for them? That’s the point of a hard limit – you don’t need to
justify it. Does she need a reason why she doesn’t want to try anal fisting?
No, of course not. She should just accept that it’s a hard limit for him and if
she doesn’t like it, she knows where the door is. God, it’s so hard to decide
whose side I’m on in this book. I think I’m actually on my own side, the side
of sanity, the side of good literature and humanity in general.<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Ana, in a moment of pure genius, tells Christian that if he tells
her why touching him is a hard limit, she’ll let him spank her again. What a
great bargain. This will end well. Who’s using sex as a weapon now?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Christian goes and retrieves some Ben Wa balls, which he wants to
put inside her while he spanks her. Again, this is a girl who lost her
virginity not two weeks ago. Has the man got no concept of taking things
slowly? He tells her to put them in her mouth, then has her bend over while he
puts them inside her.<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">He tells her to go and get a drink of water from the kitchen and,
naturally, by the time she comes back, she’s ‘needy, needy for sex’. There’s
something new, I don’t think we’ve seen ‘needy’ Ana yet. She returns with her
water and notices that ‘there’s a foil packet, ready and waiting, like me’. Did
Ana just liken herself to a condom packet? Will we ever find out whether
Christian got rid of that condom that was in his pocket? Is it still there?
Does his maid deal with that kind of thing? I can’t stop thinking about it,
this condom side-plot is more riveting than the actual story.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><u1:p></u1:p></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">He spanks her while she has the balls inside her. It’s actually
exceedingly<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>vanilla.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Nothing too hard, not even any naughty
words. Ana says that she’s lost in a ‘quagmire’ of sensation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://joanharvest.files.wordpress.com/2008/01/quicksand1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="221" src="https://joanharvest.files.wordpress.com/2008/01/quicksand1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">This
is a quagmire. Looks like fun.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
</td>
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</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">He pulls the balls out after a few minutes and they have sex. It’s
boring, to be honest. Nothing we haven’t read before, and a completely
superfluous, unnecessary scene. A desperate attempt to shoehorn a bit more sex
into this chapter.<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Just as they’re falling asleep, Christian follows through on his
promise to tell Ana about why touching is a hard limit. “The woman who brought
me into this world was a crack-whore, Anastasia. Go to sleep,” he says. Okay,
cool, good chatting with you, goodnight.<o:p></o:p><u1:p></u1:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Orgasm count: one for Ana, two for Christian.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">TBC!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">This chapter was boring as hell to read, and to write, so I tried
to liven it up with some funny pictures. That's what I've resorted to. It's not
even funny anymore, it's just tragic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Chapter Nineteen<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana wakes
up to Christian saying that they have to leave in half an hour to get to his
parents’ dinner party. This might just be me, but if my significant other woke
me up with<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>thirty minutes</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>remaining until I had to be ready for
an important dinner party, that would be the end of the relationship. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">He says
he’s ‘bought’ her a drink (I’m assuming the author means ‘brought’, unless he
actually went out and purchased one for her) and that if she doesn’t get out of
bed, she’ll be in trouble.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana
notices that Christian has hung up her dress. The author can’t actually mention
this dress without reiterating that it’s Kate’s plum dress, because nothing Ana
owns could ever be considered attractive or remotely provocative, so we’re
reminded that it’s Kate’s dress. Got that? Kate’s dress, Kate’s plum dress.
Don’t forget. Kate’s. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana
realises that Christian also still has her knickers in his pocket, that
filth-bag. “I flush at the memory, after he, I can’t even bring myself to think
about it, he was so – barbarous.” For the love of god, please research
the correct way to use a comma to ensure that your sentences actually make
sense.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">She showers
and realises that Christian has done this on purpose to embarrass her into
asking for her underwear back. Ana resolves not to ask him, and instead meet
his parents ‘sans culottes’. Honestly, three weeks ago she’d never held hands
with a man and now he’s going to meet his mum and dad with a distinctly cool
breeze blowing around her private parts. She’s a bona fide harlot.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">She steps
back into the bedroom and puts on her dress (Kate’s dress, don’t forget, the
plum dress that belongs to Kate) and glances down at the drink Christian has
left her. “It’s pale pink. What’s this? Cranberry and sparkling water. Hmm… it
tastes delicious and quenches my thirst.” I think I could sum up everything I
hate about this novel just with this extract. Unless the fact that he’s mixed
cranberry and sparkling water is an important plot point, I don’t see the reason
to give it a whole paragraph. Why is it so important that she tells us this
information? What’s wrong with saying she took a sip of the drink that
Christian left her? This is exactly what is bad about fan-fiction writing; the
author thinks we need to know every single insignificant detail, and I would
put money on cranberry and sparkling water actually being E. L. James’
favourite drink because this novel is essentially her own mid-life crisis (and
frankly quite vanilla sexual fantasies) in literature form.<u1:p></u1:p> Whew.
Okay, back to the book.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">When Ana
heads back downstairs, Christian is standing by the window wearing the grey
flannel pants that ‘hang in that unbelievably sexy way off his hips’. This
phrase always just makes me think of those teenage boys who wear their
waistbands around their thighs and consider it to be terribly cutting-edge, not
realising that the trend started out in prisons because inmates weren’t
permitted to wear belts as they were prime suicide instruments. Urban myths
also state that inmates who wore their trousers below their bum cheeks were
making a statement of ‘availability’, if you know what I mean. Read into that
what you will.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Anyway,
Christian’s wearing his pants sagging over his arse, and listening to Frank
Sinatra. Ana says hello to him and her ‘sphinx-like smile greets his’. We’ve
been through this – I can’t stop picturing the cat from <i>Friends </i>which looks like it’s survived a few minutes in a
microwave. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian
asks Ana to dance to Sinatra with him. I couldn’t possibly cringe any more than
I am right now. I hoped it would be a sedate prom-style swaying, for a verse
and a chorus,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>max.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>But Christian is (of course) a capable
dancer and proceeds to swing her around the whole room. “We cover the floor,
from the window to the kitchen and back again… We glide around the dining
table, over to the piano, and backwards and forward in front of the glass
wall.” It sounds like circuit training to me. “Then we waltzed down the side of
the building, tap-danced across the foyer and did the lindy-hop in the elevator
all the way back up…” No, unfortunately that’s not in the book, but would you
really be that surprised? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">They stop
dancing (mercifully) and Christian asks her if she has everything she needs,
obviously hinting that now would be the time for her to ask for her
knick-knacks back. Ana doesn’t ask, and Christian smiles. “Oh, the many faces
of Christian Grey,” muses Ana. “Will I ever be able to understand this
mercurial man?” I’ll be honest, I don’t think there’s much ‘mercurial’ about a
man being chuffed his new girlfriend is going out with no knickers on. That’s a
fairly standard reaction.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">In the
lift, Ana starts to panic about the fact that she’s decided to meet her
‘boyfriend’s’ parents for the first time without wearing any underwear. Another
fairly standard reaction. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">As they
leave the building, Taylor pulls a massive Audi around for them and Ana and
Christian get into the back. “I’m grateful that Kate’s plum dress is so clingy
and hangs to the top of my knees.” KATE’S DRESS. GOT THAT? KATE’S PLUM DRESS.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">About
five minutes into the journey, perhaps less, Ana has a mini-breakdown and deduces
that, because Christian is silent, there is something critically wrong with
him, and it’s all her fault. “I can feel him slipping away from me. What is he
thinking?” They’ve literally not been talking for less than five minutes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Look, if
you’re this insecure, don’t get into a relationship with a man where it’s all
about satisfying<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>him</i>. It’s
not even been ten minutes since he was swinging you around his apartment to
Frank Sinatra, and just because he’s chosen not to fawn all over you in the
company of his bodyguard, doesn’t mean he’s gone off you. Jesus, I hate these
characters.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“Where
did you learn to dance?” asks Ana, trying to fill the silence. Christian asks
whether she really wants to know the answer to that question and Ana deduces
that he was taught by ‘Mrs Robinson’, the ex-dom.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“I
realise, in that moment, that I hate [Mrs Robinson]. I hope that I never meet
her because I will not be responsible for my actions if I do.” I guarantee I
speak for every reader of this blog when I say: hahahahahahahahaha.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian
interrupts Ana’s downward spiral of hatred and empty threats, telling her not
to overthink things. This sounds like pretty sensible advice, but he’s only
saying it because he doesn’t want her to get freaked out and leave him looking
for another submissive. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana
changes tack and asks him why he used a cable tie on her in the playroom. “It’s
quick, it’s easy, and it’s something different for you to feel and experience.
I know they’re quite brutal, and I do like that in a restraining device. Very
effective at keeping you in your place,” replies Christian. I don’t for a
minute think this just means in the bedroom. The subtext of this is that he’s
keeping her in her place as his submissive, and as a woman too. Urgh.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">They pull
up at Christian’s parents’ house. It’s a palatial, colonial-style mansion –
obviously. Ana meets Christian’s adoptive father, Carrick, and gets
reacquainted with Grace, and everything is all irritatingly easy. She doesn’t
stumble over her words, or accidentally spit a little bit, or make an
inappropriate joke, or trip over the doorstep, or any of those things which are
always guaranteed to happen when meeting the parents for the first time.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">She meets
Christian’s little sister, Mia, who is… well, really annoying. She comes
barrelling down the hallway and hugs Ana, then doesn’t let go of her hand until
they go to sit in the living room. I know what you’re thinking. Leave poor Mia
alone, it sounds like she’s maybe seven or eight years old. Nope, wrong. She’s
the same age as Ana.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">They head
through to the living room and Kate is there with Elliot. Kate hugs Ana, then
Elliot hugs Ana. “What is this, hug Ana week?” wonders Ana. No, two of your
friends have greeted you with a hug, it’s not like you’ve been set upon by
rabid huggers desperate for a piece of you. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian’s
dad asks if they want some drinks: “Prosecco?” “Please,” reply Christian and
Ana in unison. “Oh… this is beyond weird,” thinks Ana. You’re right, that<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>is</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>weird, that you should both answer a
question simultaneously with the same answer, when the only other option was
‘no thank you’, giving you a 50% chance of responding in the same way.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Beyond weird.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“You’re even saying the same things!”
squeals Mia. I told you she was annoying.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">As they
sit with their drinks, Grace strikes up a conversation. She says that they had
just been talking about vacations, and that Elliot had just decided he was
going to join Kate and her family in Barbados for a week. “I glance at Kate,
and she grins, her eyes bright and wide. She’s delighted. Katherine Kavanagh,
show some dignity!” thinks Ana. The irony of this statement is just too perfect
so I’m going to leave it lingering in the air for a while.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">…<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Okay, I’m
done. On a serious note, what sort of message is it sending that a woman who is
going on holiday with her stable, loving, attentive boyfriend isn’t allowed to
be happy about it for fear of showing a lack of dignity, but a woman who is coerced
and assaulted by her abusive partner is considered someone to envy?<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian’s
parents ask Ana if she has any holiday plans now that she’s graduated. “I’m
thinking about going to Georgia for a few days,” replies Ana, before realising
she hasn’t mentioned this to Christian yet. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“Christian
gapes at me, blinking a couple of times, his expression unreadable.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Oh shit.</i>” Oh shit?! I’m sorry,
I wasn’t aware you had to run your every thought and plan past this man you
haven’t even known for a month yet. Hell, most couples who have known each
other for ten years don’t share their every thought or potential plan with each
other.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian
gets<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>angry</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>about this. Literally angry. His jaw
clenches. He accosts her as they make their way through to the dining room and
demands to know when she was going to tell him that she was going to visit her
mother. I know I’ve said this a hundred thousand times about this book, but
wouldn’t you be getting alarm bells in your head about this guy at this point,
if not before when he was buying his Mad Axe Murderer Kit?!<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian
promises that the conversation is not over. “Oh, crapola,” thinks Ana. Crapola.
That’s what she thinks of that. The word ‘crapola’ features in Britain’s
best-selling book of all time. Crapola. I'm going to let Alan Rickman express
how this makes me feel:<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“Please
don’t be mad at me,” whispers Ana to Christian over dinner. And Christian
genuinely is mad at her for not informing him of her plan to visit her mother,
who she hasn’t seen since before she graduated. I hate him I hate him I hate
him.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">At this
point, Kate, the meddling cow, decides to ask Ana, very loudly, how her trip to
the bar with Jose went the other night. This is a question we all wanted to
know the answer to when the author decided to gloss over the details, but now
is hardly the best time to go into it, right? Christian gets even madder. I
hate everyone in this book.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Grace
starts serving dinner, accompanied by a blonde woman with pigtails. “She
blushes and gazes at [Christian] from under her long mascara’d lashes.”
Mascara’d isn’t a word, just so you know. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Also,
we’re back to this? We’re back to every woman in the whole novel wanting to get
into Christian’s pants, because of course women don’t have brains, they just
coast through life, waitressing or studying English literature and hoping that
a rich, powerful businessman will sweep them off their feet. Oh, and they’re
all blonde.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Everyone
is still talking about holidays. Kate and Mia are discussing how lovely Paris
is. “Christian, you should take Ana to Paris,” says Mia. Shut up Mia. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian
says that he thinks Ana would probably prefer London, and Ana is all like, oh
my god, he remembered that I love British literature… yeah, probably because
you remind him with every spare sentence.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Mia
starts talking about some guy she used to work for in Paris (Monsieur Floubert,
a name which sounds like it was picked because it sounds as<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>French</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>as possible – may as well have just
called him Monsieur le Frog and been done with it) and Christian, who happily seems
to have forgiven Ana for doing nothing at all wrong, starts running his hand up
Ana’s leg under the table. Ana completely loses her cool and starts spluttering
wine everywhere. It sort of makes me like her for a brief moment.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Then the
dinner is served. They have a huge roast with beef and lots of vegetables. “It
is even more palatable since Christian manages to retain his good-humour for
the rest of the meal.” I’m sorry; does your boyfriend’s mood really have an
effect on your appetite? Is this the level of control he has over you
already? I realise that I am addressing a fictional character right now
but I can actually see a lot of young women in Ana; women who are reading this
book and wishing for this to happen to them. So I guess I’m addressing them,
really, when I say: how are you okay with this?!<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The Greys
carry on their cosy family meal. “Mia regales us with her exploits in Paris,
lapsing at one point into fluent French. We all stare at her, and she stares
back puzzled, until Christian tells her in equally fluent French what she’s
done, whereupon she bursts into a fit of giggles. She has a very infectious
laugh and soon we’re all in stitches.”<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“I sigh
and peek at Fifty Shades.” Oh, this is his name now? Just because he said he
was fifty shades of fucked-up? I was once described as a Calming Influence; I
will now adopt this as my name.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian
starts running his hand up Ana’s leg again, the filthbag. He asks if she wants
a tour of the grounds (wink wink, nudge nudge), and leads Ana out of the dining
room. “I’m going to show Ana the backyard,” he says to his mother.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: start;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">He takes
her out to the boathouse in the back garden. You know what’s going to happen
next, right? </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">TBC!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">- Sorry I
haven't posted in a while, the Olympics literally took over my life. That's not
even an exaggeration. Thanks to everyone who has read and commented, you're all
the best.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2F25.media.tumblr.com%2Ftumblr_m8p2wegR2V1rdybxro1_500.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEhMmEPnfvWy1abJIqQF24fWcgifbPrJH-RqXJqQ-LjbEkAqE4FpTef3-Ln1T9G4JRpNd6QrSmsc-I1f-2dXJJQqDOS4qEKgevnllrlVeG9wuFulzujKJPVehE4Pv5NOOD8yaL7ukQzef29Gqzt33coCffMUSdhXQTxsY7hM5A=" -->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-10180753748031965672012-07-30T11:23:00.000-07:002015-02-18T10:54:34.333-08:00Chapter Eighteen<div class="separator" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Chapter Eighteen</span></b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The doctor Ana meets with is ‘tall, blonde and immaculate’, like
all of the professional women in this novel. Think back: all of the blonde
clones working at Grey Enterprises, Christian’s adoptive mother and even Kate,
to some extent. Don’t forget, girls – you have to be blonde and hot if you want
to succeed on your own, and you have to be virginal and pathetic if you want to
be looked after by a rich man.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“We
shake hands, and I know she’s one of those women who doesn’t tolerate fools
gladly,” Ana says of Doctor Greene. I’m sure she’ll have a whale of a time with
you, then. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">They
decide that Ana should go on the contraceptive mini pill. They head back to the
living room (is this the most pointless event in the whole book? Couldn’t she
have been on the pill already just to save these pointless paragraphs?) and the
doctor says to Christian: “Look after her; she’s a beautiful, bright young
woman.” How she figured that out from a vaginal exam, I have no idea.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian
and Ana sit down for lunch – a salad. “Oh thank heavens, nothing too heavy,”
says Ana. Yeah, thank<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>heavens.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i>The novel focuses largely on
Christian’s issues with wasted food, but reading between the lines, there are
more than a few suggestions of Ana having some form of eating disorder.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">As they
eat, Ana tells Christian that he’s very graceful. I don’t know any men who
would consider this to be much of a compliment, unless they’re a dancer. They
open some wine, because who doesn’t want to start drinking at 1pm on a Sunday
afternoon whilst eating a salad? Christian questions her about the form of
contraceptive she’s using. She responds with the mini pill and Christian puts
an alarm on his calendar every day to remind Ana to take it at the right time.
As though she’s not twenty-two years old and can’t fend for herself.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">When
they finish their lunch, Christian asks Ana whether she wants to do this. She
replies that she hasn’t signed a contract, and Christian says, “I know – but
I’m breaking all the rules these days.” This translates as: “I don’t care if
you don’t want to do it, because I do, and you’re going to submit to what I
want.” They head to the Womb Room.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian
says that whilst in this room, Ana belongs to him, and he’ll do what he wants
to her. No different from any other room, then. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">He
tells her to take her shoes and her dress off. “He stands back to examine me
and absentmindedly folds my dress.” He folds her dress! None of this ripping
each other’s clothes off and leaving them wherever they land. No. This is not a
bodice-ripper. It’s a bodice-folder. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">When
he’s taken her bra off, he starts braiding her hair. Braiding it. This man
moves gracefully, drinks a lot of white wine, he loves halter-neck dresses and
he’s well versed in hair braiding. Make of that what you will.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Once
he’s finished braiding her hair, he makes her kneel in the corner, knees apart,
staring at the floor. He leaves the room for about ten minutes and comes back
with his ripped jeans on. No man over the age of around twenty-one should be
wearing ripped jeans. This also goes for baseball caps, backpacks, shoes with
wicker soles and scoop-neck t-shirts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian
cuffs Ana to the ceiling, and produces a riding crop. He proceeds to wander
around her in circles, occasionally striking out with the crop. “It hits me
underneath my behind… against my sex.” Her<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>behind.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Her<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>sex.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>This sort of euphemistic language is
completely at odds with what’s actually going on, and makes it sounds
completely ridiculous. I just hope she doesn’t start referring to her boobs as
her ‘bosoms’ or her virginity as her ‘flower’… oh, we’re too late on that last
one. Damn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">It
doesn’t last very long. Ana comes from Christian hitting her with his riding
crop. They have sex seconds later and she comes again. It’s her first real
introduction to the BDSM side of things, and it’s quite… well, tame. For all
the build-up, I expected something a bit more x-rated than being tied up and
lightly spanked (which, let’s face it, is not as rare as Ana would probably
imagine). But wait. Christian says he’s not finished with her yet.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“Stamina,
Miss Steele,” says Christian. “I haven’t had my fill of you yet.” He ties her
hands with the cable ties he bought at Clayton’s at the beginning of the book.
This is where he murders her, isn’t it?<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">He
makes her hold onto the bedposts with her bound hands, spanks her across her
‘behind’ again. “So wet. You never disappoint, Miss Steele.” Two orgasms in
five minutes and she’s raring to go yet again. Uh huh. Yep. “He eases out of me
slowly, and his other hand grabs my hip, holding tight, and then he slams into
me, jolting me forward. “Hold on, Anastasia!” he shouts through clenched
teeth.” Hold on?! Are they on a rollercoaster? Is she falling off the side of a
cliff? Of all the things to shout during sex. HOLD ON!<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://blog.swagbucks.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/05/2456_rollercoaster_face.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://blog.swagbucks.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/05/2456_rollercoaster_face.jpg" height="255" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">HOLD ON!!!!!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div align="center">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“I feel
a quickening,” says Ana. That’s the complete sentence. She feels a quickening.
A ‘quickening’ is actually the moment in pregnancy when you start to feel a
baby move in your uterus. I really hope she can’t feel a real quickening.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“My
name on his lips sends me over the edge as I become all body and spiralling
sensation and sweet, sweet release and then completely and utterly mindless.”
Try and make sense of this sentence. You can’t. She becomes ‘all body’? As
opposed to what? All porridge?<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">This is
her third orgasm in ten minutes. She passes out. When she wakes up, Christian
unties her arms and dresses her in a waffle robe ‘as if [she’s] a small child’.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>One more<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i>mention of small children in this
book and I’m done. <o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">TBC!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-22569137212324555782012-07-29T11:15:00.001-07:002015-02-18T10:51:05.155-08:00Chapter Seventeen<div class="separator" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 13.3333330154419px;"><b>Chapter Seventeen</b></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
Ana wakes to find Christian ‘wrapped around [me] like a victory flag’. Let me
just tell you, Ana, that there is nothing victorious about this situation for
you. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian wakes up soon after; she can feel his erection
digging into her hip and says, “I flush, but then I feel seven shades of
scarlet from his heat.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Grammar lesson: using ‘but’ in a sentence suggests two
contradictory ideas. “I like dogs<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>but</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>I hate cats.” “I love to read<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>but</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>this book makes me want to eat my own
brain.” This sentence makes no sense; it’s like she’s saying, “I love
chocolate, but I love chocolate cake.”</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">They
exchange pillow talk; Ana asks Christian whether he slept well in her bed.
Christian ‘raises his eyebrows in confused surprise’. I typed ‘raised eyebrows
confused surprise’ into Google Images and this is what came up:<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://greatergood.berkeley.edu/images/uploads/6EAM.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://greatergood.berkeley.edu/images/uploads/6EAM.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">SO CONFUSED AND SURPRISED</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian
realises the time and leaps out of bed because he’s late for a meeting.
“Sunday,” he says, and the word is ‘pregnant with an unspoken promise’. This is
just personal preference but I can’t take it seriously when someone says that a
word is ‘pregnant’ with something – especially in this context. Christian
leaves, and Ana is pleased with herself for convincing Christian to stay the
night with her a whole three times. I sincerely hope she doesn’t actually
believe she has any control in this relationship.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“I grin
slowly and climb out of bed. I feel more optimistic than I have for the last
day or so.” She hasn’t felt optimistic for a whole day (or so). Your life is so
hard, Ana.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana
emails Christian, saying that she felt debased but she liked it - and she feels
guilty for liking it. Christian replies saying that’s completely normal. He
tells her to ‘free [her] mind and listen to [her] body’, to which Ana replies
that if she listened to her body, she’d be in Alaska right about now. In his
next email, Christian says: “Alaska is very cold and no place to run. I would
find you.” Um…<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://i.qkme.me/35qpwx.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://i.qkme.me/35qpwx.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">It’s
Ana’s last day at Clayton’s today – remember Clayton’s? The hardware store she
works at, where Christian bought his My First Murderer’s Kit. While she’s on
her lunch, she’s summoned to the office by her boss, where a courier has
brought her a Blackberry. This novel has more product placement than the
Olympics. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian
has sent her an email, which she reads from her Blackberry, saying that he
needs to be able to contact her at all times.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Why?<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i>It’s nice that he bought her a
phone, I guess, but this is just another creepy way for him to track her and
trample what was left of her already dubious independence.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">At the
end of her shift at Clayton’s, her bosses present her with three hundred
dollars. I don’t really know why. Maybe they’re paying her off to make sure she
never bothers them again? That’s what I’d do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">When she
gets home from her shift, Taylor (Christian’s bodyguard, in case you’ve
forgotten. The secondary characters in this novel are so forgettable) shows up
to collect Ana’s Beetle and take it away for her. Then Jose (Jacob) shows up
with Chinese take-out and beers. “We fondly and loudly reminisce as the beer
takes effect. It’s been a good four years.” Sorry for bringing this up<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>again</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>but you were a virgin, who only drank
virgin cocktails, until two weeks ago, and over the entire four years at
college you seem to have made a grand total of two friends and stayed in your
apartment reading the same five ‘classic British novels’ over and over. Sounds
like you had a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>blast</i>.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Elliot
(can’t remember who this is) shows up and starts kissing Kate (so he’s Kate’s
boyfriend), so Ana and Jose head down to a bar to give them some privacy. Ana
says that she feels ‘uncomfortable with the unrestrained sexing unfolding’ in
front of her, which bodes well for a woman on the edge of signing a contract
which will make her a sexual submissive. Also, don’t get me started on the use
of the phrase ‘unrestrained sexing’ in one of the world’s best-selling novels.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Again,
the author can’t be bothered fleshing out the novel with conversations that
don’t include Christian, so we don’t find out what happens at the bar between
Ana and Jose. Move along, no character development to see here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">They head
back to the apartment a little while later. They hug, and then Jose leaves. Ana
checks her MacBook and finds an email from Christian saying the following: “Are
you still at work or have you packed your phone, Blackberry and MacBook? Call
me, or I may be forced to call Elliot.” Yep, correct. Christian has flipped his
lid once more because Ana hasn’t responded to an email. Her phone has five
missed calls and a voice message, in which Christian tells Ana that he is not a
patient man (that much was evident). This isn’t even borderline madness, it’s
absolutely fucking batshit mental and it needs to be<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>curtailed</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>immediately. But, of course, it won’t
be.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana calls
him immediately. Christian says he was worried about her. Bullshit. Ana doesn’t
care that he’s literally policing her<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>life</i>;
she asks him about his day and says she ‘[wants] his proximity’ and to be able
to soothe him. Then – I’m not even joking but, lord above, I wish I was – they
do this: “You hang up!” “No, you hang up!” “No,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>you</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>hang up!” Christ alive.<u1:p></u1:p>
This book makes me want to hang up on life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The next
day (after one of them eventually does hang up), Ana and Kate move into their
new apartment, all paid for by Kate’s dad. How convenient. “We both love that
we will be in the heart of the city,” says Ana. Because they’re such hip party
girls with busy social calendars and so much to do (Ana, at this point, is
unemployed and her ‘boyfriend’ wants to keep her under lock and key three days
a week).<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">A man delivers
flowers and champagne (Bollinger. That good old Bolly that they love so much)
addressed to Ana and Kate. The delivery man is bewitched by Kate, who is
described as having her hair ‘piled high with escaping tendrils’:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Don't pretend you
didn't do this in the 90's. Also – ‘bewitched’ by Kate. See what I did there?
;)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian
has sent the flowers (obviously. Did you think it would be from someone normal
like their parents or something? Pur-lease) and there’s a helicopter balloon
attached for extra cheese.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The next
day is Sunday; the day of reckoning. She drives to Christian’s at around 1pm
and stands in the lift, checking herself out in her plum dress. I should note
that<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>every single time</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>she has mentioned this plum dress, she
has felt the need to backtrack and establish that it’s<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>actually</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Kate’s dress. I couldn’t give a shit
whether it was the Queen’s dress; once you’ve told us once that the plum dress
belongs to Kate, we, as readers, will probably remember this fact.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The lift
arrives at Christian’s penthouse and Taylor is there to greet her. “Good
afternoon, Miss Steele,” he says. “Oh please call me, Ana,” she replies. Another
textbook example of great punctuation at work from E. L. James. It sounds like
she’s telling someone called Ana to call her, when really she should be telling
someone <i>not</i> called Ana that it’s okay
to call her Ana. With me?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana goes
into the apartment and Christian is sat reading the Sunday papers. Christian
rises and ‘strolls towards [Ana], an amused appraising smile’ on his lips,
before ‘[proffering] a gentle light kiss on the lips’. Oh, so we’re just
forsaking the use of commas altogether now? Okay, cool. Breakin’ all the rules.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian
tells Ana that the doctor will be here soon, so she should get something to
eat. Christian also mentions that his parents are having dinner that evening
and he’d like her to join them. He says he’s never introduced anyone to his
family before. Then the doctor comes and puts an end to that conversation
before it even really got started. “Ready for some contraception?” asks
Christian, like some sort of warped game show host. “Fitted diaphragm?<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Come on down!”<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i>Christian also says that he’d pay
good money to watch Ana’s appointment with the gynaecologist. What a totally
normal thing to say.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Chapter
orgasm count: none yet, but thousands surely imminent.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Chapter
alcohol units: beer with Jose, more Bollinger out of teacups.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">TBC!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-73404843857596052922012-07-24T13:16:00.000-07:002015-02-18T10:43:19.704-08:00Chapter Sixteen<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Chapter Sixteen</span></b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Anastasia wakes and inhales ‘the
most seductive scent on the planet… Christian’. She wants to breathe this
elixir for eternity. Vomit. I took a brief hiatus from writing these posts for
my sanity, and I felt just about sane enough to return to them, but one
paragraph in and I’m already banging my head against a wall. She starts to
stroke his chest, which apparently, is a big no-go area for him.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“Why don’t you like to be
touched?” Ana asks. “Because I’m fifty shades of fucked-up, Anastasia,”
Christian replies. *TITLE OF THE BOOK KLAXON*<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">He goes on to hint that he had a
very tough introduction to life, but doesn’t want Ana to ask any more. “Miss
Steele, you are not just a pretty face. You’ve had six orgasms so far and all
of them belong to me.” Is there supposed to be a link between these two
sentences? Like how clever she is correlates directly to how many orgasms she’s
had? A sort of ‘well done, you can count’? (Also, as we know from our
end-of-chapter orgasm count, this number is false. The author can’t even be
bothered to read back over her own drivel and add them up.)<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Oh, but wait! Ana hasn’t told
Christian about that non-orgasm she had in her sleep. “Do you have something to
tell me?” Christian asks, his voice ‘suddenly stern’. Don’t tell me – he’s
going to<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>punish</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>her for having an orgasm and not
telling him. Crime of crimes. People have been hanged for less.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana tells him that she had a
dream about him and woke up having an orgasm. “And like a small child, I
briefly entertain the thought that if I can’t see him, then he can’t see me.”
Small child references. Again. Mature<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>and</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>appropriate. Christian starts getting
dressed and Ana is all panicky: “I don’t want him to go. What can I do?” Then
Christian kills the mood a little more.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“When is your period due?” he
asks. Just what we all like to hear about in our erotica: menstruation! I love
talking about my period with guys I hardly know. “I hate wearing these things,”
Christian says, holding up a condom,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>putting
it on the floor</i>, then putting on his jeans. I worriedly read forward a few
pages to see if Christian actually moves the condom from the floor and puts it
in a bin, but he doesn’t. He just leaves it there. Menstruation<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>and</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>a used condom discarded on the floor,
all in one paragraph. Steamy.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana tells him that her period is
due next week (I was convinced she was going to disclose that she’s never had a
period before, such is her inexperience) and Christian says that she needs to
sort out some contraception. Christian arranges for his personal doctor to come
and see Ana at his apartment to satisfy another of his stupid whims. He says
that he must be going, but he’ll see her on Sunday because he wants to ‘do a
scene’ with her. I hope it’s this scene:<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian says that she has to
sign the contract first, of course, and Ana wonders what might happen if she
doesn’t agree to sign it. “Oh, you know, explosions, car chases, kidnapping,
incarceration,” replies Christian. I think/hope he intends it as a joke but
something tells me this is exactly what would happen.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana rolls her eyes. Oops. Big
mistake. I’ve tried to gloss over the times this has happened since Christian
first noticed it (of which there were<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>so</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>many) but this time, Christian decides
to act on it. “What did I say I’d do to you if you rolled your eyes at me
again?” he says. “I’m a man of my word. I’m going to spank you, and then I’m
going to fuck you very quick and very hard. Looks like we’ll need that condom
after all.” He’s such a smooth talker, no wonder women all over the world are
falling for this guy…<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian proceeds to spank Ana,
eighteen times in total. "I cry out on the tenth slap – and I’m unaware
that I have been mentally counting the blows," she says. How can you be
unaware that you were counting the blows if you’re then aware of the number of
blows there has been? Counting requires some sort of awareness; you can’t count
without being aware of the thing that you’re counting,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Jesus heavenly Christ,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i>this is so bad.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“My face hurts, it’s screwed up
so tight. He strokes me gently and then the blow comes. I cry out again.” Now,
I’m not one to pass judgement on a BDSM lifestyle, but in my opinion, this
isn’t particularly<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>hot</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>to read. It’s a little bit
uncomfortable for me. I’m aware many people will enjoy reading this but I’m not
one of them. “My body is singing, singing from his merciless assault.” Assault.
Don't use this word in a sexual context.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“Next time, I will get you to
count,” says Christian. “Now, where’s that condom…” <i>Enough<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i>with the condom talk, PLEASE!
We don’t need constantly reminding every two seconds that you’re being safe.
Most of the people reading this are adult enough to assume that you’re having
safe sex, without constantly having to endure lengthy paragraphs about the ‘rip
of the foil’ from the condom packet and blah, blah, blah.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana has an orgasm within about
five seconds. I think there is something medically wrong with her. She is one
of those lurid, made-up headlines from the front cover of a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Chat</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>magazine. “I have four hundred orgasms
a day…<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>with my abusive lover!!</i>”<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“Oh, baby. Welcome to my world,”
Christian breathes, as she collapses onto him. This is a vile, disgusting,
cheesy line and it should be banned from the planet. Christian starts picking
at the strap on her camisole and whinges that she should be sleeping in silks
and satins, implying that her dress sense is far too common for his taste. Ana
protests that she likes her sweats and camisole. “We’ll see,” says Christian.
Is nothing ever good enough for this guy? Buy her some nice underwear or silky
nighties, but buy them because you think she’ll like them, not just because<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>you</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>don’t approve of her sleepwear.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Moronic sentence #13827: “We lie
for a few more minutes, hours who knows, and I think I doze.” Words fail me. I
wish words had failed E. L. James when she came to write this book.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Moronic sentence[s] #13828: [on
being spanked] “I really don’t get it. But strangely, I do.” Oh, come on. You
either get it or you don’t.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian goes to get some baby
oil from Ana’s bathroom and rubs it into her backside. “From make-up remover to
smoothing balm for a spanked ass, who would have thought it was such a versatile
liquid,” thinks Ana. They should put this on the next advert.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian leaves. Ana gets all
upset about losing her sense of self and identity (yeah, really) and decides to
call her mum. “Her voice is soft and comforting, and I know that she cares.”
She’s your fucking mother, of course she does, you dimwit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana cries about Christian,
carefully omitting the parts where he wants to tie her to the ceiling of his
sex dungeon. Her mum comes across as a vapid moron, who is more pleased that
her daughter has finally found a man than the fact that she graduated earlier
that day. Conforms to the tone of the rest of the book, really.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana’s mum invites her to Georgia
to stay with her for a while. “Oh boy, this is tempting. Run away to Georgia.
Grab some sunshine, some cocktails.” You didn’t drink until a week ago. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Their phone call is interrupted
when Kate comes in, and Ana recounts the whole sorry saga back to Kate (minus
the S&M parts). If the rest of this chapter is just going to be Ana
whinging about how awful her love life is, then I might just skip to the next
one.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Kate and Ana decide to drink
their sorrows away with yet more wine. “[Kate] hands me a cup of wine. It won’t
taste as good as the Bolly.” The<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Bolly</i>,
she says. She’s a connoisseur now, apparently. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana decides to check her emails
before she goes to bed, and finds one from Christian saying that she’s, among
other things, ‘exquisite’, ‘brave’, ‘witty’ and ‘intelligent’. Did he mean to
send this to someone else? He also tells her never to drive her Beetle again, and
if she does, he’ll know about it. I bet he's got the car bugged or her house
under surveillance. <i>The guy’s an utter control freak.</i><o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">There’s a vile exchange of emails
in which Christian implies that only Taylor, his henchman, can take Ana’s car
and sell it because he’s a big tough man and will therefore be able to handle a
slightly-older-than-average vehicle. Women are helpless, clueless creatures who
couldn’t maintain control of a Segway. This book, I swear… <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana makes a little joke about how
she doesn’t like Christian very much because he never stays with her. It’s a
completely throwaway remark. Ana closes the laptop and gets in bed. She cries
for a bit, for good measure.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Minutes later, someone bursts
into the flat and is heard having a shouting match with Kate. “What the fuck
have you done to her now?” Kate is shrieking. Oh. Wonder who’s at the door?
Christian bangs open Ana’s bedroom door and switches on the light. He gazes
down at Ana, his expression ‘grave’. “What’s going on?” he asks.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Basically, Christian is to humour
what Ana is to feminism. He storms in and demands to know what’s wrong. Her
innocuous email with the joke about him not staying has spooked him and now
he's desperate to know what he's done wrong. Insecure, much?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“I’m sure I’m responsible, but I
have no idea why,” he says. Let’s just rewind. She’s known this guy
approximately three weeks. They’re both adults. She made a joke about never
seeing him again (after he spanked her red raw for ten minutes) and he came
haring back to her house, stormed in and demanded to know why. Now tell me that
if this happened in any fledgling relationship, you wouldn’t run an absolute
mile. (If you wouldn’t run a mile, you are probably the key demographic for
this book. I feel bad for you.)<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The conversation moves onto why
Christian wants to inflict pain on Ana. He says that he likes the control that
it brings. He wants ultimate control over another human, which I guess is just
one stop away from saying you want ultimate control over the world, and that’s
how evil dictators are born.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“You beguile me, Christian.
Completely overwhelm me. I feel like Icarus flying too close to the Sun,” says
Ana. I’ll be right back; I’m going to put my eyeballs in some bleach. They will
never be the same after reading that vomit-inducing sentence. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian, however, seems to
enjoy it. He<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>gasps.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“Oh, Anastasia, you’ve bewitched me.
Isn’t it obvious?” Actually, I think I might just drink that bleach. <o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Chapter orgasm count: 1<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Alcohol unit count: 'Bolly'. Red
wine. Planning cocktails with her mum. She's a bona fide alcoholic already.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">TBC!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">I know I haven't updated in a
while, I honestly needed a break from this mess of a book. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">If anybody is interested, I was
recently provided with a link to the original fan fiction version of<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>50 Shades</i>, called<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Master Of The Universe.</i> It
can be found <a href="http://t.co/2SLeFkrU">here</a>, and it'll make you
weep for all humanity. Don't say you weren't warned! Thanks to <a href="http://twitter.com/thesimonpeter">@TheSimonPeter</a> for the link.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-88552616476261265502012-07-12T13:08:00.002-07:002015-02-18T10:36:11.720-08:00Chapter Fifteen<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Chapter
Fifteen</span></b><span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Christian shows up at Ana’s apartment in
jeans and a leather jacket. “I take a moment to admire the pretty,” thinks Ana.
“I thought we’d celebrate your graduation. Nothing beats a good Bollinger,”
says Christian. Have I ever mentioned how much I absolutely hate these two
characters? They drink the expensive champagne out of teacups and it’s all<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><s>maddeningly</s><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>adorably quaint and romantic.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Ana tells Christian she doesn’t want the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Tess</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>first-edition book, but Christian says
that as his submissive, she must accept it. Christian gets angry. Ana tells him
that she might donate it to charity. Christian is still angry. “The atmosphere
between us is now tense. I don’t know what to do. I stare down at my fingers.
How do I retrieve this situation?” I don’t really understand what Ana has
supposedly done, nor why Christian is so angry. Does nobody else find it
intensely disturbing that she is assuming that Christian’s anger is all her
fault, even though she’s done absolutely nothing even remotely wrong? Her
meekness and his domineering nature are the recipe for a very dangerous,
abusive relationship, dressed up as ‘BDSM’.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Christian goes on to explain that he will buy
her many expensive presents as a result of their ‘arrangement’. Prostitution
bells are a-ringin’. They carry on drinking Christian’s champagne, with Ana
becoming steadily more suspicious that Christian is trying to get her drunk.
Oh, good. Psychological abuse, prostitution and dubiously consented sex due to
alcohol consumption. This chapter is just full of fun already.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Christian grills Ana, and I mean<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>grills</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>her about what she’ll do when she
moves to Seattle. She tells him about her interviews for the internships. “You
were going to tell me this when?” Christian asks. Maybe she’d have said
something if you stopped getting unreasonably angry at nothing in
particular, buying her extravagant presents and trying to get her pissed enough
to sign your contract. Give the girl a chance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">“Don’t be obtuse, Anastasia, which publishing
houses?” he scolds. Yes, that’s right,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>scolds</i>.
Scolding her for not telling him, in all the two weeks they’ve known each
other, what her plans for her whole future are. Ana rolls her eyes.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">“Next time you roll your eyes at me, I will
take you across my knee,” says Christian. This is getting serious now. “He
fills my cup and I drink practically all of it,” says Ana. Just so you know, in
this five-minute conversation up to now, she’s drained her cup no less than
three times. They start to go over the soft limits (which are written up in
full in the novel, for the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>third
time</i>, as though we’ve all forgotten what they are in the ten pages since
the last time they were completely listed) that Ana doesn’t want to agree to.
She says that anal intercourse doesn’t necessarily appeal to her.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">“I’d really like to claim your ass,
Anastasia. But we’ll wait for that. Besides, it’s not something we can dive
into. Your ass will need training. It’ll need careful preparation.” Her ass
needs training? I get the feeling that in the movie version of this book, there
might be some kind of fitness montage here, with Ana working out in a gym while
Christian times her on a stopwatch to see how long it takes her to crush a
grape between her bum cheeks. Or that’s what would happen if I directed it,
anyway. Ana drains another cup of champagne, taking the tally to about five in
about as many minutes. The important point here is that Ana doesn’t initially
want to do anal, but Christian shrugs off her concerns and talks her into it.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">They move onto use of sex toys. “Butt plug?
Does it do what it says on the tin?” asks Ana (can you imagine any other uses
for it with a name like ‘butt plug’?). I don’t think you have to be
particularly debauched to know the function of a butt plug at twenty-two years
old. It’s called ‘not living life under a rock’. Christian laughs at her
because she’s so inexperienced. I’m not laughing anymore, I’m shaking my head
and wondering what in the world the author was thinking when giving her
protagonist the approximate life experience and sexual knowledge of a
twelve-year old. Again, Ana doesn’t really want to use butt plugs, but
Christian persuades her to give it a go.<u1:p></u1:p> Coercion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Discussion moves to bondage. Suspension is a
no-no for Ana, and she’s nervous about being gagged in case she can’t use a
safe word. As she’s trying to articulate these fears to Christian, we get this:
“My brain is beginning to fog…<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>hmm
alcohol.</i>” Yeah, perfect, and just as Christian planned it, I assume.
Needless to say, Christian persuades her into trying it. Are we sensing a
general theme here? There isn’t even any point in them sitting to discuss this
contract because whenever Ana has an issue with something, Christian completely
disregards her concern and says that they’ll try it anyway. <o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Next up for discussion is the amount of pain
Anastasia would like to receive. On the list are: caning, whipping, biting,
paddling, hot wax and genital clamps. Ana is very nervous about all of them.
“This is part of the deal, baby,” coaxes Christian. “There, that wasn’t so bad
was it?” He’s essentially gotten her to agree to almost everything on the
contract, by refusing to listen to her concerns, laughing at her inexperience
and getting her drunk.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">The last thing on the discussion list is the
‘hearts and flowers’ that Ana so badly wants. Christian has agreed to try it
out (how good of him), but on one condition: that she accepts his graduation
present. He takes her outside and there’s a shiny, red Audi sitting outside. “I
am appalled on one level, grateful on another, shocked that he’s actually done
it, but the overriding emotion is anger.”<span class="apple-converted-space"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<i><span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">What?!</span></i><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">You’ve let him get you drunk and talk you
into participating in all of the things which you’re so nervous about on his
ridiculous contract, you’ve allowed him to manipulate you into thinking you’re
doing something<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>wrong</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>by donating the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Tess</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>books to charity, he’s forced his way
into your graduation ceremony, ruined the moment of handing over your diploma
by quizzing you about your love-life, and he gets angry whenever another guy
even<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>looks</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>your way… but the thing you’re most
annoyed about is the fact that he’s bought you a new car?! God, don’t you just
hate it when your rich boyfriend buys you a brand new Audi because your old
Beetle is falling apart at the seams? I know I do. But boy, do I love that
psychological abuse that he subjects me to.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Ana finally warms to the car (didn’t take
long, there’s a sex scene coming up and I assume E. L. James was anxious to get
to it. Character development is boring). “Thank you for the car,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>sir</i>,” she says. “You are one
challenging woman, Ana Steele,” responds Christian (hahahahahaha, okay, sure
she is).<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Christian drags Ana back inside to get her
naked, as he so succinctly puts it. “Please don’t be angry with me,” Ana
whispers. “I’m sorry about the car and the books. You scare me when you’re
angry.” Urgh.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Urgh</i>. Poor
Ana. This is psychological abuse. He has managed to make her feel guilty about
her own feelings, and she’s<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>begging</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>him not to be angry with her for it.
This is about as much as I’ve been able to relate or feel sorry for Ana in the
whole book, and I’m not even sure E. L. James intended it that way.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Christian doesn’t even apologise. He starts
taking her clothes off. “His well-manicured fingernail gently grazes down my
back.” Christian goes for manicures, drinks white wine and knows what a
halter-neck is. Not that I’m suggesting anything. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">He unzips her dress and starts touching her
boobs. “Shall I make you come this way?” he asks.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>No, because you<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><b>can’t</b>.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>You can’t. (To the very nice anonymous
lady who commented on a previous post saying that this was possible, please
make yourself known to me! I have many questions…)<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Ana gives him another blowjob (it’s perfect,
of course) and then there’s a whole big clumsy section about her putting a
condom on Christian. E. L. James gets her realism and her erotica completely
confused. Personally, I’d prefer a little more realism in the way the
characters interact when they’re not having sex, and a little less realism in
the gory details of Ana ripping open the condom wrapper to find it all “rubbery
and tacky in [her] fingers”. That’s turning nobody on.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">The next page or so is the description of
Christian and Ana having sex, except it all… looks… like this… as though… E. L.
James’… cat has got its… paw continuously stuck… on the full stop… key, and
she’s not… even bothered to… correct… it… afterwards. The punctuation in this
book is diabolical. I understand it’s supposed to have a breathlessly, heady
sort of feel, but it’s so fucking annoying that I can’t bring myself to read it
enough to properly analyse it and bring you the hilarious parts. Well, except
for maybe this: “The thought pushes me, weighted with concrete, over the edge,
and I climax around him… shouting incoherently.” Weighted with concrete? I
don’t even understand the metaphor in that, what’s it supposed to mean?! I do
like that she clarifies that she’s ‘shouting incoherently’ though, as though
the last page of narration has been anything<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>but</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>incoherent.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Alcohol count: practically a full bottle of
Bollinger in approximately ten minutes.<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Orgasm
count: just the one, concrete-weighted and all (now at eight in total).<o:p></o:p></span><u1:p></u1:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-72012842799742428372012-07-10T06:08:00.000-07:002015-02-18T10:30:41.982-08:00Chapter Fourteen<div class="separator" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<b><span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Chapter Fourteen</span></b><span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">We start chapter fourteen with Ana in the throes of a sex
dream about Christian, in which he is wearing old, faded, ripped Levis. In my
head he looks like this:</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://famewatcher.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/angelo-garcia.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://famewatcher.com/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/angelo-garcia.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I'm Christian Grey. I fuck - HARD."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">In the dream, he’s whipping Ana
in all sorts of places with a riding crop. We’ve all been there, sex dreams are
a lot of fun. Except Ana literally wakes up half way through having another
orgasm.</span><span class="apple-converted-space" style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"> </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Seriously?!</i></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“I had no idea that I could
orgasm in my sleep.” Well, that’s because you can’t. I am like the 50 Shades
Mythbuster, but men (and women), please believe me: you can’t have an orgasm
from boob-groping, and you can’t have one in your sleep (while I’m here,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>that</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>scene in<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>40 Days and 40 Nights</i>?
Completely impossible. If you could come from getting a flower petal blown
around your stomach, women would buy hand-held fans instead of vibrators). </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana stumbles into the kitchen,
still wearing Christian’s jacket. She slept in it. The bunny boiler inside this
girl has lain dormant for so many years, and now it’s making up for lost time.
Kate tries to ask Ana what happened last night, but Ana deflects the questions
and offers to listen to Kate’s valedictorian speech for their graduation, and
because no one in this story has an attention span that can safely reach thirty
seconds, Kate agrees. “I worked on it last night over at Lilah’s,” says Kate. Who
the hell is Lilah? I love the way E. L. James just invents characters for no
reason. Why couldn’t she just have said that Kate worked on it last night and
left the sentence right there? No doubt we’ll never see Lilah again. This is
brilliant story-telling.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana’s dad, Ray, shows up at their
apartment. He gives her a ride to the campus for the graduation. “Good luck,
Annie. You seem awfully nervous, do you have to do anything?” Sorry Ray, I know
we’ve only just met you, but this is a ridiculous question. It’s her graduation
day, of course she’s nervous. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana’s reaction is even more
stupid: “Holy crap… why has Ray picked today to be so observant?” Yeah, ‘holy
crap’ indeed. I highly doubt he’s sussed from your facial expressions that
you’re about to graduate whilst coming face to face with your lover, who wants
to suspend you from the ceiling and have you try out his slow-cooked asparagus
(euphemism alert!).</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana takes her place in the
auditorium, between two girls who know each other. When Christian comes out on
stage (wearing the tie he used to bind Ana to her bed. Smooth…), the two girls
get all giggly. “Must be Christian Grey. He’s hot. Is he single?” Ana can’t
resist. “I don’t think so. I think he’s gay,” she tells them. This is a bit of
a spiteful reaction. I don’t really like Ana much, I’m sure you can tell.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian gets up to give his
speech. It turns that not only is he mind-numbingly hot and stupefyingly rich,
he’s also a <i>philanthropist</i>. He is on
a mission to eradicate world hunger and is donating a few million dollars to
the university’s environmental science department. Awww! Redemption! (I’m
kidding, he’s still a dick. Just a dick with a lotta money and no other way to
spend it.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">He says that it’s a very
‘personal mission’ to him, and Ana deduces that he must have been starved as a
child before he was adopted by his current family. “I’m seized by a sense of
raw outrage, poor, fucked-up, kinky, philanthropic Christian…” Oh, hey! We’re
back with the nonsensical sentences. I thought we were past those, but
apparently not.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">After Christian finishes his
speech, the graduates go up one by one to collect their degrees from Christian
himself. He takes this opportunity to effectively sabotage one of the most
significant moments in Ana’s<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><s>boring</s><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>life so far, by quizzing her on stage
as to why his emails went unanswered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Let’s just stop for a second. The
girl is<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>graduating</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>and he can’t even think about anything
but their undecided love life. If you needed any more proof of what a
self-obsessed creep the guy is, I’ve just presented it to you on a silver
platter.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">After the ceremony, when Ana
should be spending time with her family and friend(s), Christian finds her,
drags her into the men’s locker room, locks the door and begins to interrogate
her as to why she hasn’t replied to his emails. The most important day of her
life, and he expects her to be constantly checking her emails to reply to his
stupid requests. Ladies, tell me that this is not what you want.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">As their relationship has been
going<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><s>not so</s><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>steady for a full five days, Christian
feels it is very important that he meets Ana’s stepdad right away. “Just tell
him I’m your friend, Anastasia,” he coaxes. Ana takes Ray for a drink in the
marquee, and as they’re toasting her graduation, someone called Ethan runs up
to Ana, picks her up and spins her around. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Before I even go any further, I
am going to lay my entire life savings on the line and bet that Ethan’s
presence in this novel is merely just another way of regurgitating what has
been rammed down our throats constantly: Ana is<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>irresistible</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>to all men. Within the next three
pages, he’ll have made an inappropriate comment, and Christian will have
appeared and pissed all over Ana (metaphorically, but you never know with this
book) to mark his territory.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">It turns out that Ethan is Kate’s
brother (who didn’t exist until now). He’s been travelling round Europe for a
few months and his ‘dirty blonde hair tousled and sexy-looking’. That’s an
actual phrase from the book. Please make sense, I beg you. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ethan has got his arm around
Ana’s waist when Christian saunters over. “Christian turns his arctic glare on
Ethan, who still has one arm around me… Christian holds his hand out to me.
“Ana, baby,” he murmurs, and I nearly expire at the endearment.” See what I
mean? Ana = tree. Christian = dog. Endearment = urine. And what did I say?
Called it.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">In the middle of this exchange,
Kate has also managed to drop in to Ray the fact that Christian is Ana’s<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>boyfriend.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Kate has no chill; she does not have
Ana’s back whatsoever. Christian and Ray get on like a house on fire (because
no one has any unnecessary beef in this book, except for Christian) and Ana
goes to call Kate out. “How could you out me to Ray?” Ana asks. “He seems trés
cool about it, Ana. Don’t sweat it,” says Kate. ‘<i>Trés cool’.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i>‘<i>Don’t sweat it</i>’. Kate
sounds so with-it and hip. (If you are someone who says ‘<i>trés cool</i>’ as
part of your everyday vocabulary, slap yourself immediately.)</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“[Christian’s] been watching you
like a hawk,” Kate observes (not a handsaw!).<span class="apple-converted-space"><i> </i></span>Ana
returns to Christian and Ray, and Ray excuses himself to use the restroom.
Christian honestly can’t contain himself for ten seconds. “You look lovely,
Anastasia, this halter-neck dress suits you, and I get to stroke your back,
feel your beautiful skin.” Note: the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>vast</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>majority of straight men don’t know a
halter-neck from a redneck. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><u1:p></u1:p>Ana
says that she doesn’t know if she can go through with signing the contract
because she wants ‘more’. She wants hearts and flowers. The fact that Christian
introduced her to his mum, met her stepdad, bought her a laptop and generally
did things he’s never done with women, all within a week of meeting her, apparently
isn’t enough for Ana.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian agrees
to try. Oh. That was easy. Not much persuasion needed at all there. It's almost
as if the whole point of this novel<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>wasn't</i> an
intriguing storyline or in-depth character study, but an experiment to see how
many times a fictional character can have an orgasm in five hundred pages.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“Jesus, Ana, you’re so
unexpected. You take my breath away.” Imagine if someone said this to you. Just
vomited a bit. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">With regards to what she’s just
agreed to, Ana is…<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>conflicted</i>,
shall we say? “<i>What have you done?</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>My
subconscious screams at me. My inner goddess is doing back flips in a routine
worthy of a Russian Olympic gymnast.” I would love it if the twist to this
story was that Ana is a schizophrenic who has invented this entire scenario in
her head, Christian and his womb-room included. That would be a cool story.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian leaves, Ana bids
goodbye to Ray, then goes back to the apartment. The first thing she does is
switch on her phone. Four missed calls, one voice message and two texts. The
texts: “Are you home safe” and “Call me”. Oh no. Christian can’t punctuate.
This is a deal-breaker for me (if the sociopathic tendencies, intense paranoia
and fixation with controlling everything around him weren't already
deal-breakers enough). A man who can’t properly punctuate his texts is the
worst kind of unsexy. I think this is just me, though (although would it have
killed him to just put a question mark at the end there?). She also has two
emails from him when she turns on her computer. I’d wager they’ve been apart
for around an hour. This is next-level clingy. Ana and Christian totally deserve
each other.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian says he’s coming over
to Ana’s because he’s not happy about her driving her car. The man’s a paranoid
idiot. Ana goes to retrieve her first edition copy of<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Tess of the D’Urbervilles</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>ready to give back to him. I hope she
beats him over the head with it. (I don’t. Domestic violence = not cool.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">I do wish they’d stop
contaminating one of my favourite books by association with this painfully dire
one. On the front of her copy, she scribbles: “I agree to the conditions,
Angel; because you know what my punishment ought to be; only – only – don’t
make it more than I can bear!” Urgh. Goodbye, (what was left of) Ana’s
self-respect. It was nice (briefly) knowing you.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">TBC!</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-34410482826406978442012-07-09T02:21:00.002-07:002015-02-18T10:19:35.102-08:00Chapter Thirteen<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Chapter Thirteen<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
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<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>any</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>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.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">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. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
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.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">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<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>inner
stepdad</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>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.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“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. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
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.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">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. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
“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?<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Just
give me a break.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Your
dazzling perfection, which you are so ridiculously oblivious to, is making me
want to puke.<s> </s></span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">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. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">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…</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">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<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>anything<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i>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.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">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<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>does</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>go into detail, she freaks out and
doesn’t want to hear it.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">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.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">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,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>and I like it.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Books are supposed to encourage
debate, not be so utterly one-sided and make you hate every single one of the
characters.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">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).</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“Christian. You use sex as a
weapon. It really isn’t fair,” Ana says. I fist-pumped so hard at this. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“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,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>again.</i></span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“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. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
Christian tells her that he<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>knows</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>she wants him, because he felt the
tablecloth move and that<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>definitely</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>means she’s pressing her thighs
together. This is some next level Derren Brown shit.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">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.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">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. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">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.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">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<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>no
choice</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>but to have sex with
him, which, for your (and Ana’s) information, is probably classed as rape. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">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.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">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. “<i>Holy crap, this could be the last time I see him for a whole
twenty-four hours!”</i> </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
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.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">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 -<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>50 Shades of
Gherkin.</i></span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Orgasm count: remains at seven in
total. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Alcohol units: a bottle of wine
shared with Kate (as they do), a glass of wine ordered by Christian. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">TBC!</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-87695372183582169762012-07-08T13:18:00.005-07:002015-02-18T10:07:09.411-08:00Chapter Twelve: Part Two<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
Chapter Twelve - Part Two</span></b><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">They have sex, as you might
expect, and Ana comes twice (pur-lease). “How <i>nice</i> was that?”
Christian asks, ‘through gritted teeth’. This is genuinely very sinister and
menacing and I am not at all comfortable with it. Giving someone two orgasms in
the space of a minute does not make this mental manipulation okay.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana and Christian get to talking
about the contract. Ana tells him the email was a joke and that she’s still
considering his offer. They get to talking about the woman who was Christian’s
dom when he was a teen; a woman Ana has affectionately christened ‘Mrs
Robinson’. Christian reveals they still speak regularly, and Ana is insanely
jealous (grow up). “So, you have someone you can discuss your alternative
lifestyle with, but I’m not allowed,” she says. This is a really good point.
I’d feel proud of Ana if the next sentences out of her mouth weren’t so moronic.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian offers Ana the chance
to meet this ‘Mrs Robinson’ and talk to her informally about the lifestyle, to
help her become more accustomed to how it works. This actually sounds like a
great idea – getting advice from someone who’s been there and done it all, as
it were. “Is this <i>your</i> idea of a joke?” Ana asks. “No, I’ll do
this on my own, thank you very much,” she snaps. What a mature way of dealing
with things. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” says Christian. “I’m not offended,” says Ana.
“I’m appalled.” Appalled that Christian has shown some compassion and a degree
of faith, inviting you into a personal area of his life in order to help you
understand what’s he proposing? But not appalled when he shows up uninvited at
your house in the middle of the night to intimidate you into having sex.
Priorities.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana lets Christian out of the
house (he doesn’t ‘do’ staying with his subs), and contemplates that she now
feels ‘like a receptacle – an empty vessel to be filled at his whim’.
Unfortunate wording, but a really sad, valid point; Christian has completely
used to her to satisfy one of his own whims and left her feeling manipulated and
bullied into signing his contract. He clearly understands that she has strong
feelings for him, and is using them as leverage to get her to do whatever he
wants. Lovely.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Kate comes into Ana’s room to
find her crying. Ana doesn’t think her relationship with Christian will go
anywhere, that she’s in too deep and, here it comes… a moment of beautiful
enlightenment… “He uses sex as a weapon.” <i>Halle-bloody-lujah.</i> We
are getting somewhere. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Kate, adding to Ana’s misery,
tells her that her mother called when she was out running; Bob (Ana’s mother’s
husband) suffered a fall and he can’t make her graduation ceremony. This is
information that really didn’t have to be delivered in the middle of this scene
(where Ana was making such progress), but I’m glad that E. L. James is having a
brave stab at some plot, or anything other than a dubiously consented sex
session.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana says goodnight to Kate and
finds an email from Christian, saying that he looks forward to receiving her
notes on the contract (sorry, here might be a great place to express my dismay
at the ridiculous length and structure of this chapter, yet again). We are then
treated to Ana’s notes on the contract, in their entirety. Ana questions the
implication in the contract that this whole thing is explore <i>her</i> sexuality
and her limits. She says that she doesn’t need a ten page contract to do that,
and says that surely this is for <i>Christian’s</i> benefit. Good
girl!</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">She demands a one month trial
period rather than the proposed three, refuses to give up all of her weekends
(suggesting they meet three out of the four), questions the ‘discipline’ clause
(which is <i>not</i> BDSM – more on that later) and refuses fisting
and all forms of genital clamp. Wiping tears of pride from my eyes right now –
Ana has developed a spine. She knows what she wants and doesn’t want, and she
is prepared to tell him so. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
I’m aware it’s probably a temporary, collapsible spine, which will fall to
pieces the next time she’s with Christian, but I’m just so happy, please allow
me to savour this moment.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Chapter orgasm count: 2</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Total orgasms: 7</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Alcohol unit count: a few sips of
wine, fed straight to her via Christian’s mouth. Yummy.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">TBC! – I’m sorry that this
chapter was quite serious, but honestly, reading it made me so very depressed
for all the women who are gagging to have this kind of relationship (no pun
intended). Funnies will resume when Ana stops being a drip and Christian stops
being a psychopath (so maybe never). </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-64763953978681482772012-07-08T13:18:00.001-07:002015-02-18T09:51:58.756-08:00Chapter Twelve: Part One<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<b><span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Chapter Twelve – Part One<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“For the first
time in my life, I voluntarily go for a run.” So, on top of having orgasms from
boob-fondling and apparently being irresistible to all men, Ana is also able to
maintain her skinny physique by doing approximately no exercise whatsoever. E.
L. James knows how to create a relatable and likeable protagonist. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
“I put my hair in pigtails, blushing at the memories they bring back, and I
plug in my iPod.” You didn’t have an email address ten minutes ago, but now
you’ve got an iPod stocked full of songs (which require an email address, or at
least a computer, to download). Sure thing. At this point I will believe
anything.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana runs through the park to the
sounds of Snow Patrol (cool), wondering whether she’s prepared to submit to
Christian entirely, and trying to figure out why he is the way he is. “Is it
because he was seduced at such a young age?” I will get into this in more
detail later, but for now I’ll just say that this question is quite offensive and
largely incorrect.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">When Ana gets back, Kate has been
shopping for clothes for her holiday to Barbados. “Mainly bikinis and sarongs.”
This doesn’t make sense, and it bores me that I’m still pointing this out but
wow, someone sit this woman down and teach her how to construct a sentence.
“She will look fabulous in all of them, yet she still makes me sit and comment
while she tries on each and every one.” I get the feeling that E. L. James is
trying to make the reader hate Kate at this point, but it comes off looking
more like Ana’s a sour, bitter hag, who just can’t be happy for her friend in
any way. “Could I feel any more inadequate?” she moans, as she slumps off to
her room. Wish someone would tell Ana that the entire world and all its events
do not revolve around<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>her.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>(Note: if anyone’s holding out for
someone in this book to<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>actually</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>tell Ana this, I wouldn’t raise your
hopes too high.)</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana goes back to her room and
sends Christian an email: “Okay, I’ve seen enough. It was nice knowing you.
Ana.” When I first read this, I was<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>very<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i>confused. I thought I<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>knew</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>where this novel was going, for sure.
I thought she would sign the contract and end up in a happily-ever-after
dom/sub relationship with the sociopathic Christian, a romance for the ages.
Why is she turning him down?</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">It turns out that she’s not
turning Christian down, and that this is actually Ana’s attempt at a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>joke. Haha! Gotcha!<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i>“I press send, hugging myself and
laughing at my little joke.”<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>What</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>joke?! All I saw was Ana completely
putting an end to the relationship and intimating that she never wants to see
Christian again. Haha, good one! Oh, that Ana and her sense of humour.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana doesn’t hear back from
Christian until nine o’clock (surely way past her bedtime). She’s sitting at
her desk, re-reading the contract, and she looks up and Christian is standing
in the doorway. Oh. We’ve gone past borderline creepy and we’re way into Norman
Bates territory now. If we hadn’t already met Christian’s mother, I’d have to
assume that her rotten corpse was tied up in his womb-room.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“I feel your email warranted a
reply in person,” Christian says. No, Christian. It really didn’t. She pretty
much said she wanted nothing more to do with you, and I can only assume that
you’ve turned up here at her apartment to try and convince her otherwise (which
is completely contradictory to what he’s been telling her all along). He made
it clear that if she didn’t want to sign the contract, that would be the end of
the matter – but now he’s here trying to coerce her? Very healthy.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian reaches over and starts
playing with her pigtails. “So you decided on some exercise,” he says. “Why,
Anastasia?” <i>That’s none of your business,
you lunatic!</i> That’s like saying, “So you decided to have porridge for
breakfast. Why, Anastasia?” Does it matter?! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana says that she’s all
‘rabbit/headlights, moth/flame, bird/snake’. I imagine E. L. James must have
thought she was being totally cool and inventive with these comparisons but I
don’t see why we need all three.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“I thought I would come over and
remind you how<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>nice</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>it was knowing me,” says Christian. Oh
my god, this is<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>not</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>okay. He is literally coercing her,
not just into having sex with him, but into signing her life away on his butt
plug contract. He’s not allowing her to make this decision for herself; he’s
using sex as a persuasive tool, almost as a weapon against Ana’s weak state of
mind. Not. Cool.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana, predictably, takes a
different view. “I take pre-emptive action and launch myself at him.” This girl
is beyond help. Christian responds by tying her to her bedframe with his tie,
blindfolding her and threatening to gag her if she makes too much noise. Good
chat, guys. I’m glad you got everything sorted out in a mature and sensible
way. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
Christian leaves her naked, tied to her bed while he goes to fetch a glass of
white wine from the kitchen, then he starts pouring it all over her. Ana has
another orgasm. No, I’m kidding, she doesn’t, but would you really be that
surprised?</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“This is your punishment. So
close and yet so far. Is this<span class="apple-converted-space"><i> </i></span><i>nice</i>?”
asks Christian. Her<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>punishment</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>for what, exactly? Politely declining
your offer? Oh, good. So you’re not just pressuring her into signing the
contract, you’re also punishing her for daring to think she had the option not
to. This is such a healthy relationship, and definitely something I aspire to.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">TBC!</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-84105269494916121392012-07-05T06:51:00.001-07:002015-02-18T09:48:09.884-08:00Chapter Eleven<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<b><span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Chapter Eleven</span></b><span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">E. L. James has
typed out the entire sex contract AGAIN and it’s so unbelievably tedious. It
covers everything from STIs to making sure the equipment is sterilised, and it
has a lot of terms like “in accordance with Clause 3.2” and “subject to the
proviso of Clauses 2-5”. It’s<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>really</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>boring. It has<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>appendices<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i>(plural) and everything. It even
has little sections of dotted lines<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>in
the book</i> for Christian and Ana to sign. That’s realism, folks. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The only person
who remotely finds this interesting is the author, because this is her own
personal fantasy and she’s inviting us to share in every last gory detail. She
could have simply given us a run-down of the most important parts, a highlights
reel, if you will, but E. L. James is anxious to convince us that this is like<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>real life</i>.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">In addition to the ‘hard limits’
that Christian previously set out (you know, ‘no gynaecological instruments’),
there is a list of ‘soft limits’ which includes fellatio, cunnilingus, vaginal
fisting and anal intercourse. I can’t wait for Ana to join us in the 21st
century, get on the internet and do some research because you can bet your
bottom dollar she doesn’t know what most/any of those are. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian also needs to know if
she’s okay with the use of dildos, butt plugs and genital clamps. Honestly,
whatever romance and mystery there was in this story has gone straight out the
window with the mention of ‘butt plugs’. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">After reading this list, Ana has
a few problems, as you can imagine: “<i>Every weekend?</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>That’s too much. I’ll never see Kate
or whatever friends I may make at my new job – provided I get one.” Yeah,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>that’s</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>the first thing you’d logically think about.
A rich and powerful CEO is proposing that you sign a contract to become his
submissive, so that he can plug your butt to his heart’s content, and all
you’re bothered about is seeing your<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>one
friend</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>at the weekend. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“This is so much to take on board,”
Ana whinges. “As Jose would say, a real mind-fuck.” Oh, that Jose, he's such a
character. That is some catchphrase he's got there. Never heard that
before. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
Ana says that her ‘inner goddess’ is jumping around like a five-year-old. I
wish she would stop with the child references; they really do not sit well with
me in this context. “Please, let’s do this,” her (five-year-old) inner goddess
begs. “Otherwise we’ll end up alone with lots of cats and your classic novels
to keep you company<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><s>writing
Twilight fan-fiction for masses of hormone-ravaged, middle-aged women.</s>” I
thought that, it being 2012 and all, a woman’s primary function <i>wasn't</i> actually
to bag herself a man as soon as possible to avoid end up being a lonely
spinster. How wrong was I?</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Kate wakes Ana up in the morning.
“I glance at my alarm. It’s eight in the morning.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Holy Moses.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>I’ve slept for a solid nine hours.” Oh
my god! Hold the front page! Ana slept for slightly longer than the recommended
daily amount! This is unbelievable. No, really, it is. I’m in shock. (Someone
kill me.)</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">There’s a parcel being delivered
for Ana. It’s big. It looks interesting (Kate’s words, not mine). Christian has
apparently sent her a MacBook Pro, with a tech guy to show her exactly how to
use it (because Ana seems to be from the Dark Ages and wrote all her college
essays by hand, with the flickering light of a candle in the background).</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The tech guy tells her he’s set
up an email address for her. “I have an email address?” wonders Ana, in utter
shock. Can someone please explain to me how this woman has managed to stumble
through her pathetic, sheltered life thus far? How did she manage to apply for
her internships without an email address? How did she correspond with her
university? This was written in 2012. There were <i>cats with Facebook
accounts</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>in 2012, and this
girl doesn’t even have an email address. I despair.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">When Ana signs into her
new-fangled, high-tech email account, there is an email from Christian. What
follows is a vomit-inducing sequence of emails. None of them really say much of
interest, except for that awful phrase – “Laters, baby.” Ana compares herself
to a small, giddy child. Again with the child references. They make me very
uncomfortable, why hasn’t E. L. James picked up on this? Stop mentioning
children in your erotica. It's very weird.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana goes to work, and has Jose
come and meet her there so that they can go for coffee. “[Jose] smiles his
dazzling toothy all-Hispanic-American smile.” What is an
‘all-Hispanic-American’ smile? Is that different to an all-American smile? Oh
wait, of course it is, he's<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>ethnically
diverse.</i> We hadn't had a reminder for a few chapters. I had completely
forgotten about the shameless tokenism of this useless character.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">We don’t even get an insight into
what happens between Ana and Jose at coffee. I think the author deems an
interaction irrelevant if there aren't any nipple clamps or pube-tuggers. Ana
just goes home and emails Christian some more. She already has no life outside
of this man.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Being unsure of where to start
with her research into BDSM, Ana asks Christian what she should type into
Google. “Always start with Wikipedia,” recommends Christian (hahahahahahahaha).
Sage advice. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">TBC!</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">PS - if you want to follow me on
Twitter, I'm @fateiskind. Laters, baby. (Sorry.)</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-31559135008596082682012-07-05T03:42:00.002-07:002015-02-18T09:46:04.361-08:00Chapter Ten: Part Two<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<b><span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
Chapter Ten - Part Two</span></b><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian and
Ana finish their food at the roadside restaurant and continue the drive back to
Ana’s. “He switches off the engine and I realise I’m going to have to leave
him,” whines Ana. “Suddenly, I feel emotional.” Me too, Ana. Me too. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="background: white; font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
“Why do I suddenly feel bereft?” she wonders. I have absolutely no idea. You've
known this controlling sociopath for about two weeks.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“Oh, by the way, I’m wearing your
underwear,” Ana says, before she goes into the house (for a moment, when I
first read this, I thought this was Christian speaking. I was disappointed when
it wasn’t, his tame attempts at sexual liberation have been quite boring so
far. Except when he tugged on her pubes). For someone who strings girls up by
their wrists and whips them with a whole manner of scary-looking instruments,
Christian seems inordinately shocked by the fact that some girl has got his
boxers on. Please. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">This would be a great place to
end the chapter but E. L. James couldn’t structure a novel for love nor money.
Ana goes inside and Kate starts questioning her about Christian. “Did he make
you come?” she asks, excitedly. “Kate pulls me to the couch and we sit. She
clasps my hands.” Kate seems way too excited about this.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>It’s just sex, guys.</i></span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“It took almost a year to have my
first orgasm through penetrative sex…” Kate muses.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Surely</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>this sentence could have been phrased
a little better because to me, this sounds like they were having sex for a full
year, non-stop, before she had her first orgasm. “… and here you are, first
time?” Yes, alright, don’t rub it in. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
I notice that Ana doesn’t explain that her first orgasm came from him groping
her boobs, probably because if she did, Kate would have her hospitalised and
tested for some sort of nerve disorder. Breasts are not a sexual organ, they
are nothing more than an erogenous zone, and rubbing them will give you as much
of an orgasm as rubbing your kneecaps. <i>I will never let this go.<u1:p></u1:p></i></span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“I’m glad you lost it to someone
who knows their ass from their elbow,” laughs Kate. I bet he didn’t have to be
taught the difference between a hawk and a handsaw, either, which is always a
bonus. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
Kate tells Ana she has some post, and apparently, Ana has not one, but<span class="apple-converted-space"><i> </i></span><i>two</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>interviews for internships at
publishing houses. So she<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>does</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>have plans! This is completely new,
but I’m so pleased that she wants to do something with her life that I’m going
to overlook the fact that the author has clearly just decided to write it in at
the last second.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The phone rings; it’s Jose. God,
this chapter is<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>endless</i>.
Jose is calling to apologise to Ana for trying to force himself on her last
week. As he should. He starts asking whether Ana is<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>with</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>Christian, and whether she’s doing it
for the money. For someone supposedly in love with Ana, he sure doesn’t think
much of her. They arrange to have a conciliatory coffee the next day. Kate and
Ana sit in their apartment, eating pizza and ‘quaffing cheap red wine’. For
someone who had her first drink about five minutes ago, Ana is sure taking to
this alcohol lark.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The phone rings<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>again.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>I am begging this chapter to end soon.
It’s Elliot. Kate skips to her bedroom to talk to him ‘like she’s fourteen’. I
don’t doubt it. What follows is what feels like eight million pages of Ana
thinking about Christian, wondering about this ‘Mrs Robinson’ figure who abused
him as a teenager, and wondering whether she should sign the dom/sub contract.
Who does she think she’s kidding? Of course she’s going to sign the damn
contract.<u1:p></u1:p> There’s still like, half of this book to go.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Orgasm count: still five, but
it's five more than she had twenty-four hours ago.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Alcohol unit count: five
margaritas, tequila shots, a pitcher of beer, three glasses of wine. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">TBC!</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-45288367043751858942012-07-05T03:37:00.002-07:002015-02-18T09:43:52.083-08:00Chapter Ten: Part One<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Chapter Ten – Part One</span></b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">So, we’re about to meet
Christian’s mother. We’re about to get some sort of insight into his life when
he’s<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>not</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>hanging girls from the ceiling.
Excited?<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><s>No.</s><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>You bet.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
Christian and Ana scramble around, putting their clothes on. Ana contemplates
that she might just stay hiding in his bedroom, but Christian seems pretty keen
that she meet his mother (let’s just refresh our memories; this is the fifth
time they’ve met and they haven’t even known each other for two weeks yet. But
yeah, he’s totally keen to introduce her to the fam).</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian leaves Ana to get
dressed. “If there’s one thing I hate, it’s not wearing clean panties,”
complains Ana. Isn’t that something<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>universally</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>hated by every woman ever? This
doesn’t even need to be stated. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana puts a pair of Christian’s
boxers on. She goes to look at herself in the bathroom mirror and her
subconscious supposedly mouths the word “ho” at her. Someone needs to remove
all blunt objects from my home before I hit myself over the head with one. The
attitudes to sexually active women in this book are horrendous.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">When Ana meets Christian’s
mother, we are treated to a description of just how<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>beige</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>she is. I mean, the word ‘beige’ is
never actually used, Ana goes for words like ‘sandy’ and ‘camel-coloured’, but
what she really means is that this woman is the epitome of white,
upper-middle-class<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>beige-ness. </i></span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Dr Grace Trevelyan-Grey turns out
to be a very inoffensive lady, who seems very pleased to see that her adopted
son has found a woman. Sweet. Ana’s phone starts ringing, and she (rather
rudely, for someone who’s meeting someone’s parents for the first time) goes to
answer it in the kitchen.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
“Dios mio! Ana!” Jose is the only ethnic minority in the whole book, and as
such, the author has him remind the reader of this, in an embarrassingly
stereotypical way, at every opportunity. “<i>Dios mio, I’m so diverse! Now,
where did I leave my sombrero? Anyone for tacos?”</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The phone call is pointless and
adds nothing to the plot; he’s basically calling to ask why she wasn’t
returning his calls, and Ana says that this isn’t a good time and hangs up on
him. That bitch.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">By the time Ana is hanging up the
phone, Christian’s mother is saying goodbye and leaving. What a flying visit.
Guess E. L. James got bored of actual character development and just wanted to
get back to the filthy sex. “So the photographer called?” asked Christian. He’s
not impressed. Christian is the worst kind of guy because he’s a possessive guy<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>with technology.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>He won’t wait until you’re out of the
room until he checks your phone; he’ll just have it tapped and intercept all
your messages. He won’t call you to check up on you when you’re not around;
he’ll have his bodyguard tail you and report back to him all day long.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Swoon.</i></span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian has to make some
important business calls, so he gives Ana the official contract to look over
and tells her to do some research if there’s anything she doesn’t understand.
Ana says she doesn’t have access to the internet, or a computer. She’s just
finished four years of university education, but sure, she doesn’t have a
computer or home broadband. Right.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
Christian says he'll lend her a laptop and they leave his apartment. “He’s
wearing a black leather jacket. He certainly doesn’t look like the multi-multi-millionaire,
billionaire, whatever-aire, in these clothes.”<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></span><i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">This
sentence doesn’t make any sense. Brb, going to blow my own brains out.</span></i><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian concedes that Ana can
break the terms of their confidentiality agreement to have some much-needed
girl talk with Kate (I bet that’ll be insightful). “The sooner I have your
submission the better, and we can stop all this. You, defying me,” says Christian.
Oh, brother. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
They go to get in Christian’s sporty car. “It’s one of those cars that should
have a very leggy blonde, wearing nothing but a sash, sprawled across the
hood,” Ana thinks. Again with the objectification. I find this sentence gross.
That’s all I need to say.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">They put on matching baseball
caps as he lets the top of the convertible down. “He likes baseball?” ponders
Ana. Yes, you dimwit, this is Twilight fan-fiction, don’t you know.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">They stop halfway back to Ana’s
for some food at a place called ‘Cuisine Sauvage’. Christian goes right ahead
and orders for Ana, because he’s a complete douchebag. “Two glasses of the
Pinot Grigio,” he says, clearly forgetting that he’ll soon be in control of a
very fast sports car<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><s>with a
naked blonde woman clinging to the hood.</s></span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">They start talking about vanilla
sex and BDSM over lunch. Christian sensationally reveals that he lost his
virginity to one of his mother’s friends when he was fifteen, and was her
submissive for six years. It finally happened! Character development! I could
cry tears of joy right now. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
Christian fondly reflects that his ex-dom used to beat the shit out of him. Ah,
good times. Apparently, he still sees his ex-dom, and they’re very good
friends. This genuinely sounds like the healthiest relationship Christian has,
bearing in mind that he doesn’t seem to have any other friends besides his
bodyguard. Predictably, Ana doesn’t like it.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian urges Ana to read the
contract when she gets home and ask any questions she needs to. Things are
getting pretty deep, and I know what you must be thinking: “Wow, I bet Ana’s
head is absolutely swimming with thoughts and questions and confusion about the
huge, life-changing decision she has to make here.” Nope, she’s off in her own
little world, thinking about how much Christian must work out to stay in shape,
and the way his pyjamas hung from his hips that morning. Get a grip, woman.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">TBC!</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-24008501845261867242012-07-04T15:57:00.000-07:002015-02-18T09:40:18.138-08:00Chapter Nine: Part Two<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Chapter Nine – Part Two</span></b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">When he leads Ana into the
bathroom to take a bath, Christian fills up the bathtub with hot water and
‘sweet sultry Jasmine’ bubble bath (jasmine shouldn’t be capitalised unless his
bubble bath smells like a woman called Jasmine, rather than the flower
jasmine). </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
Ana stands in the bath while Christian takes her clothes off. “Anastasia,
you’re a very beautiful woman, the whole package.” We are led to believe that
she’s smokin’ hot physically, but there’s not much going on upstairs, if you
know what I mean. Christian is obviously not bothered about the mental capacity
of his submissives, as long as they can read enough to sign his disclosures and
contracts.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">They get in the bath together and
Ana gets all excited because she can feel his erection. “It’s such a turn-on
knowing that it’s my body making him feel this way.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Ha… not your mind.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>My subconscious sneers.” You’ve got
that right, girlfriend (even if the grammar in those sentences is anything<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>but</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>right). Christian almost makes Ana
orgasm again, but then he stops her.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“I want you to become
well-acquainted, on first name terms if you will, with my favourite and most
cherished part of my body. I’m very attached to this.” He brandishes his knob
at her. His penis is his favourite part of his body? Excuse me while I throw
up.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
Ana proceeds to give him her first ever blowjob and,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>quelle surprise</i>, she’s
absolutely awesome at it. She can deep-throat and everything. “He’s my very own
Christian Grey flavour popsicle,” says Ana. That is so many shades of<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>gross</i>.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“Anastasia, I’m going to come in
your mouth,” says Christian (note: no man is this coherent when his penis is
being treated like a popsicle). After five minutes of intense practice, Ana is
suddenly a blowjob expert. “In a moment of extraordinary confidence, I bare my
teeth.” Christian seems to enjoy it. “Don’t you have a gag reflex?” he
asks. Of course not, she’s<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>perfect</i>.
No interests, no ambition, no personality… no gag-reflex? She's a life-sized
sex toy.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian says he owes Ana an
orgasm and he takes her back to bed. He really wants her to agree to the
dom/sub contract, so he decides to give her a little taster by tying her up. He
ties her hands together, then puts them up over her head and tells her to keep
them there, before proceeding to go down on her. But wait, not before E. L.
James has spectacularly killed the mood once again by having Christian<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>tug at Ana’s pubic hair.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>“I like this,” he says, pulling on it.
“Perhaps we’ll keep this.” He tugs on her pubes. Does this turn anybody on?
Anyone at all? *tumbleweed*</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana has two more orgasms (I’m not
even going to bother going into the details of them both. Am I jealous? Maybe).
Christian and Ana lie together in post-coital bliss for a few moments, before
realising they can hear voices outside.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“Shit! It’s my mother!”</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">(Orgasm count to date: five in
twenty-four hours.)</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">TBC</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">What a cliff-hanger, right?!
Thanks for all the lovely comments so far. I’m glad I’m not alone in my hatred
of this laughable book.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-44249295867989473922012-07-04T15:55:00.002-07:002015-02-18T09:38:55.015-08:00Chapter Nine: Part One<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Chapter Nine – Part One<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
Ana wakes up to Christian Grey and damn near has another orgasm at the sight of
his beautiful face. “How could anyone look this good and still be legal?” I’d
be more concerned about the legality of your own stupidity, to be honest,
Ana. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
She gets out of bed, goes into the bathroom and appears to have an actual
conversation with her subconscious. I’ll just reiterate the fact you can’t
interact with your own subconscious and I’ll just write this off as Ana being
borderline schizophrenic. “ARE YOU CRAZY?” her subconscious shouts (in caps,
too). Yes, it seems she is.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana realises she didn’t let Kate
know where she was, so she goes to find her phone and there are a load of texts
from Kate, saying things like “RU OK Ana” and “Where RU Ana”. Add ‘text-speak’
to the considerable list of things that E. L. James can’t pull off.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">At a time like this,
understandably, the only thing Ana worries about is how bad her hair looks. She
finds two hair ties in her bag and puts her hair in pigtails, speculating that
the more girly she looks, the safer she will be from 'Bluebeard'. This is really
skewed logic. Plus if you're standing in the bathroom trying to figure out ways
to keep yourself 'safe' from the man in the apartment with you, chances are you
should forget your hairstyle and RUN.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
She realises she’s hungry, so she gets her iPod out and heads to the kitchen. “There’s
nothing like music to cook by,” she says. Cringe. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Now Ana starts dancing round the
kitchen and grabbing whatever she wants out of the fridge. This might be just
me, but when I stay over at other people’s houses, I always feel very
uncomfortable when I’m awake before them, and I definitely wouldn’t start
helping myself to their food when they weren’t around. Ana started this book
flipping out about a guy holding her hand, but now she feels relaxed enough in
his penthouse apartment to start raiding the fridge and dancing around,
apparently. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“I am so daunted by this kitchen.
It’s so sleek and modern, and none of the cupboards have handles. It takes me a
few seconds to deduce that I have to push the cupboard doors to open them.”
You, my dear girl, are an unspeakable idiot. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
“Amy Studt is singing in my ear about misfits. This song used to mean so much
to me because I’m a misfit.” I am cringing so much there are actual nail
indentations in my face.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian walks in and catches
her dancing. Predictable. He asks her if she wants some tea, reaches into a
cupboard and pulls out some Twinings English Breakfast tea.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Smooth.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>She tells him that she’s still sore
from last night so he suggests that they just work on oral skills for the time
being. I swear, if she has an orgasm from him kissing her feet...</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana says she’d like to spend the
day with Christian, but then return home for the night. This is a completely
reasonable request, but Christian is not impressed. When Christian gets upset,
this, apparently, makes Ana’s previously insatiable appetite immediately
diminish. She spent twenty minutes cooking up eggs and talking about how hungry
she was, and now just because Christian is upset with her, she's suddenly lost
her appetite. I can't identify with this character – there’s not much a man
could say that would put me off my breakfast. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">It turns out Christian is
actually pretty obsessed with food, and urges her to finish her breakfast. He
has ‘issues with wasted food’ apparently. I’d like to promise that we’ll find
out what that’s about in later chapters, but the standard of this writing,
planning and plot leads me to believe it’s just another empty sentence designed
to make you feel a pang of sympathy before being completely forgotten about.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian promises that they’ll
take a bath together, and Ana decides to call Kate. Kate is all like, did you?!
And Ana is all like, maybe… And Kate is all like, OMGZ, you totally did! Really
mature, adult stuff. The sort of conversation that makes you think that Ana and
Kate are totally ready for responsible sexual relationships which may or may
not include BDSM. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
Ana contemplates that not telling Kate about the Womb Room will be “a difficult
square to circle”. I think E. L. James is having a stab at using an idiom here,
but as far as I know, this isn’t even a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>phrase</i>.
The phrase she’s thinking of is ‘square<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>the</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>circle’, which means to solve a
particularly difficult problem. Calling this situation a ‘square<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>to</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>circle’ is nonsensical (but hilarious).</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian shows his own maturity
(and the author tries to crowbar some misguided literary references in) by
referring to sex as ‘making the beast with two backs’. I’m so glad that we’re
all adults here, especially considering the potentially dangerous nature of the
sexual activities we’re about to embark on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
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<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">TBC!</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-79617876821129477272012-07-04T14:02:00.002-07:002015-02-18T09:35:32.889-08:00Chapter Eight<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Chapter Eight<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
Chapter eight opens with Christian furious with Ana for not telling him (in all
of the three or four times they’ve met) that she was a virgin. “I knew you were
inexperienced, but a<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>virgin!”</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>he seethes. If I haven’t mentioned it
before, I hate Christian.</span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian can’t understand why
someone hasn’t swept Ana off her feet: “You’re beautiful,” he says. But,
crucially, she’s utterly mindless and devoid of personality, with no talents,
no hobbies and no ambitions. What a catch. </span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
Ana overlooks everything he’s saying and focuses on the fact he called her
beautiful. “<i>Perhaps he’s near-sighted</i>, my subconscious has reared her
somnambulant head.” Where do I even start with this sentence? Firstly, the
punctuation means it makes absolutely no sense. Secondly, here’s a little tip
for E. L. James: your target readership hasn’t a clue what ‘somnambulant’
means, and I would bet all of my life savings that they didn’t go scrambling to
the nearest dictionary to find out. Your readers don’t want big words, they
skip right over those; they just want badly-written sex scenes.</span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“How have you avoided sex? Tell
me please,” demands Christian. This is extremely unfair. Okay, I’ve had a good
laugh at the fact that Ana is a virgin, but in all seriousness, it is not a bad
thing. Also, the phrase ‘avoided sex’ makes it sound as though she’s spent the
last six years evading lust-crazed men who all want to get in her pants
because, let’s face it, that’s all women are good for in this universe. Just
because someone isn’t having sex, doesn’t mean they’re<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>avoiding</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>it.</span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian offers to ‘rectify’ the
situation. Yes, that’s right:<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>rectify</i>.
As though it’s a mistake that needs to be corrected. As though the fact that
Ana has been saving her virginity for a nice, pleasant young man, who isn’t a complete
and utter sociopath, is a wrong that needs to be righted.</span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Being the gentleman that he is,
Christian says that he will make an exception to his usual hard fucking, and
‘make love’ to Ana instead. Oh, cheers. He takes her into his bedroom, with the
predictable floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Seattle and ultra-modern
furnishings and every other cliché you could imagine into a CEO’s bedroom. He’s
wearing a white linen shirt and jeans.</span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEiiRBFPo6l73sSaJx6I23eE7XfaNOck02jjOfLsm_25smKW6LUXtW4r9Fk_2GIdBO6cnaDhCkJJUVVSg06CrYyaQD2e8MinrUFa5WhRXVKas66fdlANswz301QIh749fYUeKfvKOm8NaFY8wcFXhyphenhyphenbi8zN-d4eKdd26RQSgiod4-Grs=" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEiiRBFPo6l73sSaJx6I23eE7XfaNOck02jjOfLsm_25smKW6LUXtW4r9Fk_2GIdBO6cnaDhCkJJUVVSg06CrYyaQD2e8MinrUFa5WhRXVKas66fdlANswz301QIh749fYUeKfvKOm8NaFY8wcFXhyphenhyphenbi8zN-d4eKdd26RQSgiod4-Grs=" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"I don't make love... I fuck. Hard."</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div align="center">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Say what you want about Christian
Grey, but at least he practices safe sex (in the contraceptive sense, of
course). He asks Ana if she’s on the pill. She isn’t, and he pulls out a
pack of condoms. Good man.</span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The scene starts off like any
conventional sex scene, really. There are some parts where he’s licking her
feet, because he’s, you know,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>so</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>sexually liberated, and there’s a
revelation about how Ana has never masturbated before, but honestly, by this
point, I’m not even surprised anymore. She could tell him that she doesn’t even
know where her vagina is, and I’d just be like, okay, sure. That’s actually
pretty believable.</span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">This is the part I have a real
problem with. Christian takes her bra off and starts blowing on her nipples and
you think, okay, a bit of foreplay to get her warmed up. That’s pretty
charitable of you, Christian. </span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
But then it appears that she<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>has
an orgasm</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>from him just
touching her boobs. If there are any men reading this (and I hope there are, I
need to put this myth to rights), please believe me when I say that, to the
very best of my knowledge, you cannot bring a woman to orgasm from playing with
her nipples. You just can’t. If any girl tells you that she’s had an orgasm
this way, she’s lying (or faking). He is literally just touching her boobs and
she comes, and it’s her<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>first</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>orgasm too. No, just… no.</span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">This is also the first example of
Ana ‘shattering into a thousand/million/bazillion pieces’ when she has an
orgasm. The author’s descriptive skills don’t stretch to much more than this,
to be honest, and it makes me wonder whether she’s actually had an orgasm
herself or whether she’s just some repressed middle-aged wench who thinks you
can come from boob-fondling. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">After giving Ana her first ever
orgasm through completely ridiculous means, Christian decides he’s now going to
fuck her,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>hard</i>. The actual
description says that he ‘slams into’ her. After all that hard work he just did
rubbing her boobs, he decides to make her first time more painful and
uncomfortable than it needs to be. Nice going, idiot. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana has another orgasm. If
possible, this is<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>even more</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>ridiculous than the nipple thing. I
barely know anyone who<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>enjoyed</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>losing their virginity, never mind got
an orgasm out of it,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>never
mind</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>the fact that this is
minutes after a previous orgasm, which is coincidentally her<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>first</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>(which came from poking at her breasts
with his tongue – no, I will never let this go.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>It can’t be done</i>).</span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“Did I hurt you?” asks Christian.
Like he cares. Ana compares her two orgasms to ‘the spin cycle on a washing
machine’. The author has definitely never had an orgasm. “I’d like to do that
again,” says Ana. Oh, sure. Losing your virginity and having two orgasms in the
space of five minutes wasn’t enough for you, I get it. Christian’s not bothered
though; he<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>literally</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>flips her over and starts again.</span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“You are mine. Only mine. Don’t
forget it,” he says. If I haven’t said this a hundred times already, Christian
is a creepy egomaniac who should not be lusted after, longed for or thought of
as any kind of ‘perfect man’ ideal. “I want you sore, baby,” he grunts. Urgh! There
are no words.</span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana has<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>another</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>orgasm. The count now stands at three
in the space of about half an hour. I don’t care how repressed you were
beforehand (very), that kind of thing just does not happen. Men: don’t feel
disheartened if you can’t give a woman three orgasms in quick succession – feel<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>alarmed</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>if you can (and also maybe a little in
awe of their supreme acting skills). </span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">After the epic orgasm-fest, Ana
falls asleep, and when she wakes up, she hears Christian playing the piano in
the next room (I’ll try and refrain from vomiting while I type up this next
part, it seems I am allergic to cliches). “Bach, I think, but I’m not sure,”
Ana says. She’d never heard the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Flower
Duet</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>before Christian played
it to her, but she’d know Bach anywhere; a real classical music virtuoso. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“It was exquisite, but sad, such
a melancholy melody,” says Ana. Nobody talks like this in real life.<u1:p></u1:p>
Christian orders Ana back to bed and they wrap the blood-stained sheets around
themselves, because apparently there is no spare bedding in his palatial
apartment. Gross. A beautiful and fitting end to a romantic and<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>sexually educational</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>chapter, I think you’ll agree.</span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">TBC!</span><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
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<u1:p></u1:p>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.mcssl.com%2Fcontent%2F154960%2Fmen_guayabera_shirt-white2.jpg&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEiiRBFPo6l73sSaJx6I23eE7XfaNOck02jjOfLsm_25smKW6LUXtW4r9Fk_2GIdBO6cnaDhCkJJUVVSg06CrYyaQD2e8MinrUFa5WhRXVKas66fdlANswz301QIh749fYUeKfvKOm8NaFY8wcFXhyphenhyphenbi8zN-d4eKdd26RQSgiod4-Grs=" -->Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-24860279016441710022012-07-04T11:58:00.000-07:002015-02-18T09:31:21.803-08:00Chapter Seven<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Chapter
Seven<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
So, this is it. The big kink-fest we have all been waiting for is about to
commence. Christian is showing Ana his ‘playroom’. It’s described as smelling
faintly of citrus and apparently, it has a ‘womb-like’ feel. I’m sorry.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Womb-like</i>? This is either
supposed to be a) a sexy image, or b) some misguided attempt to be all Freudian
and deep. Whichever it is meant to be, it fails miserably. There is nothing
sexy about being spanked (whoops, spoiler) in a room that resembles a uterus,
and there’s nothing particularly meaningful about it either, it’s just<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>weird</i>.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">There are cuffs and restraints everywhere,
riding crops hanging from the walls, ropes, shackles, a massive wooden ‘X’, an
iron grid on the ceiling and a four-poster bed covered in red leather and
satin. It’s the most ostentatious, pretentious wank-fest of a sex den you’ve
ever heard of.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Predictably, Ana finds it a romantic setting.
Oh good, that bodes well. “I walk towards the bed and run my hands down one of
the intricately carved posts. The post is very sturdy, the craftsmanship
outstanding.” Don’t you just hate it when you’re tied to your lover’s red
leather four poster bed, being flogged and spanked for his pleasure, and you
notice the awful craftsmanship of the bedposts? <i>Such</i> a mood-killer.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Christian tells Ana that he’s a ‘dominant’,
and that he wants Ana to submit herself to him in all ways possible and become
his 'submissive'. “Why would I do that?” asks Ana. “To please me,” replies
Christian, without a trace of humility or irony or anything. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">According to Christian, there are strict
rules Ana must follow, but she will be rewarded for following them. “It’s all
part of the incentive package. Both reward and punishment.” They sound like
they’re discussing a gym membership, but whatever. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">When Ana asks what she gets from this
arrangement (a very fair question, for once), Christian simply says: “Me.”
Doesn’t sound like a great incentive package to me, I’d prefer unlimited use of
the spa facilities and my twelfth month free, thanks.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">He continues telling Ana about his
incentives. She has to stay at his apartment Friday through Sunday, in her own
room, submitting fully to Christian’s every wish and desire. I’m no expert on
the sex industry, but this ‘incentive package’ now sounds less like a gym
membership and more like prostitution.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Christian leads Ana back to the kitchen and
tells her that unless she signs the consent form, they will have no further
relationship, and that this is the only kind of relationship he’s interested
in. Ana asks why Christian is the way he is, and what led him there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">“That’s kind of hard to answer. Why do some
people like cheese and other people hate it? Do you like cheese?” replies
Christian. Whoa, this just got seriously deep. Christian Grey is a regular
Nietzsche. Philosophy at its finest, right there. But wait for it, Ana has her
own pearls of wisdom to add. “We’re talking about cheese…<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>holy crap</i>,” she muses. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
Have I missed something? Is cheese discussion somehow significant to the
furthering of a relationship? Does it have some profound, metaphysical
connotation that I’m oblivious to? My best friend gets a cheese board every
single Christmas. Sometimes she puts cheese on top of cheese and eats it, and I
highly doubt even<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>she</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>would give a lump of cheddar this much
consideration.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Christian commands Ana to eat and she
questions him further about his proposal. He tells her that he’s hurt women in the
past, and that if she agrees, he’ll be physically punishing her, and it will
hurt. “I think I feel a little faint,” Ana contemplates. “I take another sip of
wine. Alcohol – this will make me brave.” Yeah, what a great idea. Get yourself
so drunk that you lose the inability to make rational decisions at this crucial
time. Actually, Ana’s decision-making is dubious enough when she’s sober. It
probably won’t make a bit of difference.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">When she’s eaten approximately three grapes,
Christian takes Ana into his study and shows her the entire contract which
she’s supposed to sign. Because this is fan-fiction, and fan-fiction readers go
crazy for this sort of thing, E. L. James has typed up the entire contract,
word for word. There are extensive paragraphs detailing the limitations of what
Ana can eat and wear, how often she has to sleep, how often she has to exercise
and how often she has to wax/shave.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>I
wish I was kidding</i>, seriously. Ana has to submit to having a personal
trainer, she has to go to the beauty salon of Christian’s choosing whenever he
sees fit, she’s not allowed to snack between meals and she has to have all of
her clothing approved by Christian. But then I guess, for a girl with<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>no</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>ambitions, like Ana, this all sounds
pretty cushy.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Next, there is a list of ‘hard limits’. These
are actions that are absolutely forbidden and won’t be carried out by Christian
under any circumstances. Highlights include no fire play, no acts involving
children or animals (the fact that he feels the need to specify this is beyond
wrong), no acts involving gynaecological medical instruments (but those are so
fun!) and no urination or defecation. Honestly Christian, you call yourself
sexually enlightened?</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian
asks Ana whether there’s anything she’d like to add, and having never held a
guy’s hand until about a week ago, she’s obviously clueless. Ana has to finally
‘fess up to Christian and admit that she’s a virgin. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian is shocked, then angry
(the nerve of her! How dare she preserve her virginity for someone she cares
about!). I find it hard to believe that Christian ever thought Ana was anything<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>but<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i>a virgin (the clues are all
there), but there you go. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
TBC!</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<u1:p></u1:p>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-38012856333856080642012-07-04T06:46:00.001-07:002015-02-18T09:28:06.625-08:00Chapter Six<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Chapter Six<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
So after their slightly scary and borderline violent kiss in the lift,
Christian and Ana get into his massive Audi SUV. The product placement in this
novel is quite something, by the way. E. L. James is currently rolling around
in a huge Audi, speaking on her Apple iPhone while she sips away at her
Twinings Breakfast Tea.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana is lamenting the fact that
Christian hasn’t mentioned their kiss. Give him a chance, it only happened two
minutes ago. But of course, this is fan-fiction world, where the instalments
were usually posted days or weeks apart, so when this was originally posted, it
must have felt like an age since they last kissed. Ana comes to the conclusion,
after a whole three minutes of Christian not mentioning it, that she must have
imagined the kiss. That's sensible. If someone doesn't verbally acknowledge a
kiss within 200 seconds of it happening, it means it didn't happen. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian puts the MP3 player on
and he’s listening to the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Flower
Duet</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>from the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><s>British Airways advert</s><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>opera Lakme. Ana says that her senses
are all in disarray, with the music teasing and seducing her. I had never
thought of the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Flower Duet</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>as particularly sexy, myself, but each
to their own. Christian tells Ana he likes all kinds of music, from Thomas
Tallis to the Kings of Leon. He puts<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Sex
On Fire</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>on. It’s
cringeworthy.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">As they pull up at Ana’s
apartment, Christian tells Ana he won’t kiss her again unless it’s
premeditated. Ana completely disregards all creepy insinuations and just
wonders why he won’t kiss her. “His surname should be Cryptic, not Grey.” Ohhh,
burn.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">They go up to Ana’s apartment.
Ana tells Christian she liked what happened in the elevator, and then says that
she’s ‘not sure if [she] hear[s] an audible gasp’. Audible, by definition,
means that you can<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>definitely</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>hear it – it’s clear and distinct. How
can you be unsure of whether something was audible or not? “I wasn’t sure if I
could see the book as it went sailing visibly out of the window.” Doesn’t make
sense, does it?</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">As they get into Ana’s apartment,
Kate and Elliot (apparently Christian’s brother, but most likely someone the
author invented just so that Kate wasn’t a third wheel) are there, having been
showing each other a good time all night long, by the sounds of it. Elliot has
not been properly introduced to Ana, but he hugs her anyway. So does Kate.
There is so much unnecessary hugging in this book, it makes me vaguely nauseous.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian and Elliot say goodbye
– “Laters, baby.” You might want to remember this too. Like the lip-biting, you
will come to<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>despise</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>it. The author knows how to take an
in-joke and run and run and run with it, until you are so sick of it, you want
to pull out your own eyeballs and use them in a slingshot, preferably directed
right at E. L. James’ face. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Elliot kisses Kate goodbye and
Ana feels an ‘unwelcome pang of jealousy’. Ana cannot be happy for anyone
unless it’s herself. She is a shallow creature with cardboard, two-dimensional
feelings.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">If<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>50 Shades<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i>was a movie (which, I read, it
soon will be), what follows is a shameless makeover scene in which Kate
prepares Ana for her next date with Christian. She shaves her underarms and
plucks her eyebrows. I’m not here to dictate what women should do with their
body hair, but I’m finding it really hard to believe Ana hasn’t taken a razor
to her pits in her whole life – especially as every other element of her being
is so sheltered. “[Kate] assures me this is what men expect these days,” says
Ana. Hey, what’s the sound? That, my friends, is the sound of us hurtling back
through time, to an era where what men<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>expect<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i>of women is more important
than what women<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>want for
themselves</i>. Shave your underarms or don't shave them, but don't let a man
be the reason for the choice either way.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana can’t stop contemplating that
tonight is<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>the</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>night. Context: Ana is a virgin who
had her first drink two days ago and had never held anyone’s hand before, but
she is quite happy to give up her virginity to this egomaniacal lunatic on what
is essentially their second date. Again, I’m an advocate of women being able to
do what the hell they want with their virginity, I just don’t think this is likely
or realistic. But then, I guess if I was holding out for realism in this book,
I’d have given up when she swan dived into his office and landed on her face at
the beginning of chapter one.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian picks Ana up from work.
“The drive to the helicopter is short, and before I know it, we arrive.” This
is the most hilarious sentence I’ve ever read. Bar none.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian straps Ana into his
big, manly helicopter. They take off, and there’s a whole sequence with
Christian saying manly things like, “Roger tower” and “over and out” into his
headset. I don’t know how much research the author did into actual helicopter
jargon, but if it’s the same amount of research she did into the rest of the
book, I’m going to go right ahead and say that she made the entire thing up off
the top of her head.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">The views must be incredible up
above the city, but all Ana can look at is Christian. He confides he’s never
brought a woman up here before, which makes me think Ana is insulting his
gesture by just gawping at him all the way through and not taking in the view
he obviously wanted to show her. “You’re just so… competent,” she says to him. <i>Oooh, baby, I love it when you’re…
competent.</i> Who said this book wasn’t sexy?!</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">They land on Christian’s roof and
go into his apartment. He offers her a glass of wine: “Pouilly Fume okay with
you?” he asks. This is quite condescending of him. He knows she doesn’t drink,
how would she know what specific type of wine she preferred? He’s making her
feel small.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana sits down and contemplates
that she feels like ‘Tess Durbeyfield looking at the new house that belongs to the
notorious Alec D’Urberville’. I wish she would stop with these half-baked
references. We<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>know<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i>you’ve read the book (or at least
looked up the synopsis on Wikipedia); you don’t need to keep proving it to us. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">She asks Christian why he bought
her the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Tess</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>book specifically, and he says, “It
seemed appropriate. I could hold you to some impossibly high ideal like Angel
Clare or debase you completely like Alec D’Urberville.” Is that supposed to be
a really hot sentence? Psychological abuse vs physical abuse. Tough call. Ana
says she’ll take the debasement. I weep for women everywhere.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian now presents her with a
disclosure agreement. This is fair enough. If we’re to presume that Christian
is a famous young CEO, perhaps equivalent to the likes of Mark Zuckerberg, a
disclosure agreement is probably a wise idea. Ana wants to sign it without even
reading it. Hand me that pen when you’re finished, would you, Ana? I want to
sign my own death warrant.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">After she’s signed the
disclosure, she asks, “Does this mean you’re going to make love to me tonight,
Christian?” Oh boy, one glass of wine and she’s pissed already. For a
supposedly shy and reserved character, this is also a pretty forward sentence.
“I don’t make love,” says Christian. “I fuck. Hard.” A thrilling prospect for
any inexperienced virgin, I’m sure.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">From here on out, what little
plot there may have seemed to be in the chapters so far completely dissipates.
Don’t say I didn’t warn you. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">TBC!</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-350518646402601652012-07-03T15:17:00.001-07:002015-02-18T09:22:20.075-08:00Chapter Five: Part Two<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Chapter
Five – Part Two<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
Ana has a shower and of course, Christian has sent his henchman out to buy her
some new clothes to replace her vomit-splattered ones. The following paragraphs
borrow very heavily from<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Pretty
Woman</i>, which is also disturbing, because the woman in that film is a
prostitute. Is that how the author sees Ana? </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
“I didn’t know what you liked, so I ordered a selection from the breakfast
menu,” says Richard Gere, as Ana joins him in the kitchen. Ana says that this
is very ‘profligate’ of him. I don’t know anyone who uses the word ‘profligate’
in real life. E. L. James has been at the thesaurus again.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">When Ana offers to pay Christian back for the
clothes, he refuses. “Why should you buy these for me?” asks Ana, fairly
reasonably, in my opinion. “Because I can,” says Christian. Honestly, this man
is so pompous and arrogant and utterly self-obsessed. Christian says he felt
like he owed her an apology when he didn’t kiss her after her near-miss with
the Cyclist O’ Doom, which is why he bought her the ridiculous first-edition
book (that she won’t appreciate because she can’t analyse Thomas Hardy to save
her life. I hope she failed her exam).</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Christian then carries on with this complete
oxymoron of a sentence: “You should steer clear of me. There’s something about
you, though, and I’m finding it impossible to stay away.” So, loosely
translated, that means: “You should probably stay away from me, but it won’t
matter whether you do or not, because I’ll just stalk you and turn up wherever
you are anyway – work, home, socialising… you name it, I can track it.” Looks
like you found your literary romantic hero, Ana.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Mr Literary Hero is asking the questions, and
he asks what Ana’s plans are when she moves to Seattle. She says that she’s
applied for a few internships, which is funny, because just a few chapters ago
she said she didn’t know what she wanted to do. This is what happens when
fanfiction authors write real books. Fanfiction is generally written
chapter-by-chapter, with no overarching plan - continuity is pretty much a myth
in this type of story.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">This bit is important, because you’re going
to get mightily annoyed with the repetitive nature of this silly action. Ana
bites her lip at something Christian says, and he comments that he’d like to
bite that lip. This is a fairly sexy thing to say to someone really, but after
the one hundredth time, it loses its edge. Just a word of warning for the
future.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Christian says he won’t touch Ana without
written consent. I’ll say again that if this guy wasn’t supposedly smokin’ hot,
there would be an Ana-shaped hole in the nearest door. It is a sad testament to
either a) Christian’s extremely appealing physical appearance or b) Ana’s
pathetic sense of self-worth and poor risk assessment abilities that she
decides to go along with this entire thing.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">Ana agrees to meet Christian later that night
to see what he means about the ‘written consent’ thing. He scolds her for not
eating her breakfast and is very sinister about the whole thing. “Good girl,”
he says as she finishes her pancakes. “I’ll take you home when you’ve dried
your hair. I don’t want you getting ill,” says Christian. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">“There’s some kind of unspoken promise in his
words. What does he mean?” ponders Ana. I’m guessing he means that he’ll take
her home once she’s dried her hair because he doesn’t want her to catch a cold.
Not everything he says is encrypted code that must be analysed and taken to
pieces. </span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;"><br />
For any men reading this: that is not the way women’s minds actually work. Ana
Steele gives women everywhere a very bad name. What Ana Steele wants is most
definitely not what<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>all,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i>or even the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>majority</i> of women
want (although if anyone does want to get me a first-edition<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Tess of the D'Urbervilles</i>, I
can tell you now that I'd appreciate it much more than this silly character).</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana",sans-serif; font-size: 10.0pt;">There’s a very long, dragged out scene in
which Ana basically just gets dressed. Fan-fiction writers aren’t generally
blessed with great narrative skills, and here's a spoiler for the future: this
story doesn't have a plot. So they pad out their chapters with a lot of
mundane, pointless activity. Christian and Ana take the elevator down from his
penthouse and, wait for it… the first real<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>action</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>of the book, you guys. I know, I'm
excited too.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian
basically pounces on her while they’re in the lift (because she bit her lip -
see? It's annoying already), pinning her hands above her head and yanking on
her ponytail until she has no choice but to kiss him back. “It’s only just not
painful,” says Ana. I’m sure the first kisses of all of Ana’s literary heroines
were just the same. Do you remember that famous scene where Mr Darcy pinned
Elizabeth Bennett against the wall and held her hands in a ‘vice-like grip’
above her head so he could force his tongue almost painfully into her mouth,
leaving her ‘helpless’? No, me neither. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
TBC!</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7292886647873625299.post-63870310714351606672012-07-03T15:13:00.000-07:002015-02-18T09:19:27.467-08:00Chapter Five: Part One<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><b>Chapter Five - Part One</b></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><br />
Ana wakes up in a bed in Christian Grey’s massive hotel suite. She gets some
flashbacks from the night before and notices that Christian has left her some
orange juice and some painkillers on the bedside table. I thought this was
quite a sweet gesture, but Ana calls him a control freak and doesn’t seem to be
too pleased. A crazed stalker with a standard Murder Kit in the boot of his car
tracked her phone and followed her across the state because she said she was
drunk, but it's the<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>orange
juice</i> that makes her mad? That bastard, trying to cure her hangover.
What a tool.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian walks in and he’s all
sweaty because he’s been working out, and he’s wearing pants that hang from his
hips again. Is he one of these men who wear their trousers halfway down their
backside so you can see their underwear? That isn’t hot. Pull your pants up,
Christian. “I feel like a two-year-old,” Ana contemplates. “If I close my eyes
then I’m not really here.” Honestly, Ana, we don’t need any more proof of your
complete incapability of rational thought or action.<u1:p></u1:p> Also
interesting to note that E. L. James compares Ana to a child <i>a lot.</i> Weird.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Ana wonders how she got there,
and Christian confirms that he brought her to his apartment and undressed her,
down to her t-shirt, knickers and socks while she was unconscious.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Weird. Creepy. Unacceptable.</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>If this is your boyfriend or long-term
friend bringing you home when you’re drunk, you might be able to deal with the
fact that he stripped you down while you were in a drunken stupor, but not a
man you’re meeting for the fifth time this morning. I’m no prude, but this is
just very, very fast, and there are real issues with consent that go totally
ignored.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">I am briefly cheered by the fact
that Ana is now annoyed about the phone tracking. Christian tells her that
phone tracking technology is available over the internet. He’s right, it is,
but the person whose phone is being tracked must agree to the tracking. It
can’t be done without their consent. It is not okay to track people’s phones,
not unless you’re an officer of the law or a member of the FBI, and you’re in
the middle of an investigation of some sort (and no offence to E. L. James, but
I don’t think her narrative prowess extends to Christian being some sort of
secret agent).</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">Christian says that if he hadn’t
tracked her phone, she would have ended up in Jose’s bed. Well, no. There is a
third option here, and that involves Ana going to find Kate and going home
safely, like most girls do after a night out. Again, the author’s idea that all
women are damsels in distress who must be rescued is patently evident (and sad).
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">This is where I start to lose the
tenuous grip I had on my sanity before I started this book. Christian gets mad,
literally scolding Ana and telling her it was completely irresponsible to get
drunk without eating a proper meal, because he hates to think what could have
happened to her. “If you were mine, you wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week
after the stunt you pulled yesterday,” he says. </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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I just can’t get on board with this, and as much as I have torn her to pieces
in previous posts, I am utterly on Ana’s side. As a twenty-two year old woman,
she has the right to go out and drink as much alcohol as she likes, whilst
eating as little food as she likes. If she wants to go out and chug absinthe
all night long on an empty stomach, Christian Grey should have absolutely no
bearing on that choice. His egomaniacal tendencies come right to the fore here,
and he somehow manages to make the situation all about him, as though<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>she</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>should have considered<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>his</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>feelings before <i>she</i> went out and did what normal young women do when they reach a
milestone in their life. How inconsiderate of you, Ana.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;">“He’s not a dark knight at all,
but a white knight in shining, dazzling armor – a classic romantic hero – Sir
Gawain or Lancelot,” swoons Ana, after Christian goes to take a shower. She
thinks all the stalker stuff is bold and brave and honourable. Urgh.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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“He’s probably not celibate,” she continues. Hahahahaha! You think?! “But he’s
not made a pass at me, unlike Paul or Jose. I don’t understand.<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>You’ve slept in his bed all night,
Ana, and he’s not touched you. You do the math.</i>” </span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Right, because those are the only two options. If a man <i>doesn’t </i>make a pass at you, that means he just<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>has</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>to be celibate. The most worrying
thing about this is that she is completely objectifying herself. She sees
herself as a sexual object for these men, and if they don’t want her for sex,
they don’t want her at all. I am sad. Sad for this literary construct and sad
for the women who will read it and long for this kind of relationship.</span><span style="font-size: 13.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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