Every Breath You Take
“Please don’t hit me,” I whisper, pleading.
—E. L. James, Fifty Shades of Grey
WHY CAN’T MY HUSBAND BE MORE LIKE CHRISTIAN GREY?
—Jenny Isenman, Huffington Post
ON FEBRUARY 12, 2012, dangerously misguided young women took to their Twitter accounts to praise Chris Brown, the pop star best remembered for beating up his much more famous girlfriend, Rihanna, than for any talent of his own. They expressed such sentiments as “chris brown your sexy you can punch me in the face anyday” [sic] and “I know Rihanna didn’t like it much, but Chris brown you can punch me in the face all you want” [sic]. These tweets were widely copied and reported and decried by internet media, because we’re not living in a world where such talk is acceptable. We don’t encourage women to sit idly by and let men abuse them, or fantasize about abuse.
Something happened between February 12, 2012, and March of 2012, when Fifty Shades of Grey’s stunning momentum dragged it from “that thing readers are talking about on the internet” into an honest-to-goodness media spotlight. Suddenly it was just fine for women to fantasize about an abusive, controlling man and to flood the internet with those fantasies, going so far as to lament the fact that their own husbands weren’t just like the dangerously flawed hero of their dreams.
Surely we’re not describing Christian Grey, the twenty-seven-year-old wunderkind who plays piano like a concert pianist, pilots a helicopter bought with his own vast fortune, and feeds starving children in Africa? Christian Grey is not an abusive boyfriend. He’s gorgeous and kind; he lavishes gifts on the object of his affection, Anastasia Steele. Her Cinderella story culminates in the American dream of prosperity and two beautiful children. That’s not abuse.
But he also stalks her. When Ana goes to a bar to get drunk for the first time, in celebration of completing her final college exam, she remembers his number on her phone and drunk-dials him. Within moments, Christian tracks her cell phone and arrives at the bar—despite her explicit request to the contrary—and spirits her away, unconscious. True, her friend José has gotten drunk and “handsy” in the parking lot, and Christian’s arrival saves her from certain date rape, but still, she had asked him not to come. He admits, without any shame, that he used his considerable wealth and resources to track her cell phone. Christian showing up as the knight in shining armor—when he didn’t know his intervention was needed or welcome in the first place—sends a very clear message to Ana and the reader: “Your personal wishes and boundaries are not important to me. I’m going to do what I want to do with you.”
Later in the book, Christian tells Ana that no matter where she goes, he has the resources to find her. He proves this when she pleads with him for space and leaves Washington for Georgia to visit her mother and think about their relationship. Within two days, Christian shows up in his private jet, ready to be sexually serviced by Ana. Even though Ana’s explicit wish was to be left alone for a few days, Christian cannot abide. If Ana is outside of his sphere of influence, he can’t possibly control her, so he has to fly to Georgia to insinuate himself between Ana and her mother. He goes so far as to follow the two to a bar and watch them for an unspecified amount of time before contacting Ana. A reader can’t help but wonder how many other times Christian Grey is lurking just out of Ana’s sight, watching her every move. Some might call that romantic. Others call that stalking.
Crashing Ana’s visit with her mother serves another purpose. By meeting and charming both of Ana’s parents very early in their relationship, Christian can win them over to his “side,” so that Ana has no neutral observer to whom she is emotionally close. The Georgia incident happens late in the book, but within days of meeting Ana, Christian forces her to introduce him to her father. When both of Ana’s parents are impressed by Christian’s wealth and charm, Ana has been cut off from two very important safe outlets in her life. They’ve met Ana’s “boyfriend,” they like him, and they both advise her, despite her uncertainties, to work out her relationship with him.
Ana has only one close friend, her roommate, Kate. From the beginning of Ana’s association with Christian, Kate doesn’t trust him or like him. She teases Ana at first about having a crush on Christian, but once she begins to see the toll their relationship takes on Ana, she encourages Ana to see Christian Grey for the control freak that he is. She also tries to get Ana to confide in her, but Ana can’t. Christian Grey has already seen to that, with legal threats.
Paperwork is a huge object of manipulation in this series. Before Christian will even consider a romantic entanglement with Ana, he asks her to sign a nondisclosure agreement, prohibiting her from sharing details of their sex life with anyone. When Ana asks him for permission to talk to Kate and ask her questions, he refuses. While it is doubtful that this type of nondisclosure agreement would be legally binding (the BDSM contract he wants her to sign would not be legally enforceable, either), presenting these documents as though there will be severe consequences should Ana break their agreement is just another way Christian Grey manipulates Ana into behaving the way he wants her to behave. Later, in Fifty Shades Freed, Christian balks at the idea of a prenuptial agreement, while Ana is willing to sign one. Though Christian has more to lose from a failed marriage, Ana would also be protected by a well-executed prenup, and Christian’s stern refusal robs her of the opportunity. He turns it into a question of love, rather than a question of fairness; if he deserved the protection of a nondisclosure agreement and a contract, in an equal partnership Ana should be given the same.
Though emotional manipulation and threats of physical punishment are the tools most often used by Christian Grey, he isn’t above using alcohol to make Ana more malleable. In Fifty Shades of Grey he openly admits to purposely getting Ana drunk as they discuss her “hard limits” and other aspects of the contract. His motive is clear: if Ana’s inhibitions are artificially lowered, she’ll agree to more items on his list of desires, and when she does sober up, she’ll be trapped into doing things she wouldn’t normally want to do. That this behavior doesn’t strike Christian as particularly unethical—and that he can rationalize that it’s actually good for her—should be a concern for any woman wishing for a Christian Grey of her own.
In the middle of the Fifty Shades of Grey media furor, Dr. Drew Pinsky appeared on the Today Show and called the book “violence against women” due to the BDSM content. He suggested that men and women only become involved in a BDSM lifestyle as a consequence of a troubled upbringing, without addressing the emotional abuse in the story. Conflating consensual BDSM with domestic violence only served to muddy the waters of the very valid discussion of the relationship portrayed in the novel. Ana’s consent is uninformed due to her sexual inexperience, and when you examine the words she uses to describe Christian’s spankings, they’re not sex-positive words. “Hit,” “assault,” and “beat” are all used by Ana to describe the way Christian treats her, and the first time he physically punishes her, she spends the night crying hysterically.
Christian doesn’t appear to enjoy spanking Ana as part of a sexy game. He frequently threatens to spank her when he becomes frustrated with her, when her questions about his past become too personal, when she won’t behave as he wants her to behave outside of the confines of the Red Room. And what does he want her to do? During a scene in which Ana is meeting Christian’s parents for dinner—without any panties on under her dress—Christian tries to slide his hand between Ana’s thighs, and she closes her legs. He feels provoked to physical violence because Ana won’t let him finger bang her five feet from his mother.
Even if we remove the BDSM (and Ana’s physical aversion to it, which Christian ignores), there is still the matter of his control. When Christian Grey buys Ana a gift, it is always for his own benefit. He buys her expensive books to warn her away from him because he’s a dangerous man, thus building an aura of mystique around himself to draw her in further. He buys her a computer and a BlackBerry so that she can remain in contact with him at all times. He buys her a new car and a new wardrobe so that she fits in with his glamorous lifestyle, despite Ana’s objections.
As the series progresses, the control Christian exerts over Ana’s life becomes focused more on using his wealth as a weapon against her. When he feels threatened by Ana’s male boss, Christian simply buys the company she works for. When she objects and threatens to leave her job, he tells her that he’ll buy the next company as well. He learns her bank routing and account numbers and deposits large amounts of money into her account against her wishes, and reveals that he’s done a background check on her.
Perhaps the most worrying of all the messages this series carries is that being completely dominated and controlled by a man is a natural part of a mature relationship. When Christian, finally confronted by Ana about her dislike of the BDSM aspect of their relationship, admits that she isn’t a good submissive, he wants her to continue in the lifestyle, anyway: “And, as long as you follow the rules, which fulfill a deep need in me for control and to keep you safe, then perhaps we can find a way forward.” He’s unwilling to pursue the relationship outside of his parameters. When Ana protests that deciphering when he wants her to challenge him as a romantic equal and when he wants her submissive comes as too much “personal cost,” saying, “I’m tied up in knots here,” his response is to joke about bondage and coax her into another sexual encounter, thus ending the conversation. He never bothers to address her needs, because they don’t fulfill his. Should she fail to meet his needs, however, he wants permission to physically punish her. Ana finds this unacceptable and breaks up with him at the conclusion of Fifty Shades of Grey, but at the beginning of Fifty Shades Darker she apologizes to Christian for not trying hard enough to fulfill his needs, going so far as to call herself “undeserving” of his affection. Though the physical punishments no longer involve whips and canes, they still persist, in the form of hickeys on her breasts when a wardrobe malfunction leaves her topless at the beach in Fifty Shades Freed.
It’s not as though there aren’t clues throughout the novels that total control of Ana is the ultimate end goal for Christian. Though the master/slave element is toned down in Fifty Shades Darker and Fifty Shades Freed, he continually tells Ana she belongs to him, that he knows what is best for her, going so far as to order her meal for her when they dine at a restaurant in the beginning of the second novel. After they marry, Christian is angered when she chooses to keep her last name for professional reasons, telling her, “I want your world to begin and end with me.” Slowly, Ana begins to accept his total control, and this acceptance is portrayed as a positive progression in a normal and loving adult relationship.
But is Fifty Shades of Grey actually “violence against women” as Dr. Drew proposed? It’s a fantasy—no one would want that relationship in reality, would they? The zeitgeist seems to believe otherwise. In her article for the Huffington Post, Jenny Isenman laments the ways in which her relationship with her husband pales in comparison to Ana and Christian’s. In an article on CafeMom online, Andrew Kardon advised husbands to buy Fifty Shades of Grey so they could add little touches from the book into their marriages. The line between what women like to fantasize about and the way we want to be treated in reality is blurred in countless media discussions.
Fans of the books have reacted vehemently to criticism, going so far as to say the same troubling things about Fifty Shades of Grey as those young Twitter users said about Chris Brown. “I would let Christian Grey beat me!” is no less troubling a statement than the ones made about Brown, so where is a similar outcry?
The first step in correcting the misconception that the relationship portrayed in the novels is a romantic ideal is for fans to admit that the book is problematic. It would be enough to say simply, “While there are issues with the relationship portrayed in the books, I found them an enjoyable fantasy.” Acknowledging that Christian Grey exhibits traits common to controlling, abusive men isn’t admitting that the reader would like to be controlled and abused in real life. Many people can enjoy slasher flicks without actually wanting to be murdered or murder someone else, so the same considerations should apply to works of an intensely sexual nature.
Second, fans need to stop arguing that the relationship isn’t flawed. Admitting that there is a problem truly is the first step to solving it, and it solves nothing for fans of the book to run around offering excuses. “He only wants to hit her because he had a bad childhood!” isn’t a believable defense in real life, so it shouldn’t be a valid reason to defend Christian Grey at book club. Attempting to explain away the troubling themes in Fifty Shades of Grey insults victims of domestic violence, many of whom have endured the same experiences of control and domination to which Ana is subjected. To revisit the slasher flick analogy, it’s rare to find anyone who would defend the motives and actions of Freddy Krueger, and yet many people are capable of watching and enjoying A Nightmare on Elm Street.
Third, we must stop buying into the media obsession with equating female fantasy with female fulfillment. Discussions of Fifty Shades of Grey often include sly suggestions that reading the book will revitalize your sex life, that it will tell women what they really want from their men, and men what women want from them. It can be a satisfying fantasy without being anything else. Fifty Shades of Grey and its sequels are not, and shouldn’t be touted as, nonfiction self-help books. Encouraging readers to emulate them is irresponsible in the extreme.
Finally, readers have to accept that if they’re going to indulge in books with problematic themes, they will hear some criticism, and this criticism isn’t personal. Many women reading the Fifty Shades novels are reading them as their first experience with erotica. The tie (no pun intended) between the sexual content of the book and the sexual fantasies of the readers builds a minefield critics have to navigate cautiously. In the company of other ardent fans, readers are safe to lavish praise on the books and the characters without any attention paid to the undertones of abuse and control in the story. Faced with criticism, many fans of the series interpret it as a direct attack on themselves and their sexual desires. Then the cycle of excuses starts all over again: “Christian bought her that computer because he loves her! He spanks her because he had a bad childhood!” When this happens, the reader isn’t defending the series; they’re defending their right to be turned on, which shouldn’t be a part of the discussion. Or the fan resorts to ad hominem attacks on anyone who doesn’t like the books, calling detractors “prudes” and suggesting they don’t have satisfying sex lives. What was once a discussion about books is dragged into a quagmire of personal attacks.
Ideally, we would live in a culture where abuse and romance weren’t so easy to confuse, where women could look at a man like Chris Brown or Christian Grey and see them for the predators they are. We would be able to draw a line between what women want in fiction and what they want in reality, and we would be able to draw a similar line between what we feel comfortable fantasizing about and our social consciences. To get there, we have to face some uncomfortable truths about ourselves and our culture.
So, imagine your daughter. She can be real, or hypothetical. If you’re child-free, imagine your sister, or a friend. Imagine Fifty Shades of Grey never existed, and this woman you love has brought home her new boyfriend. He’s rich, he’s handsome, he’s charming, although you suspect his charm is carefully tailored. He emails and texts her often, demanding to know her whereabouts. He has her cell phone traced, so he can follow her against her wishes. He reacts with jealousy to her friends. He physically hurts her when she’s made him angry, but she assures you that she’s okay with that, she’s agreed to it and signed paperwork that makes it okay. Every time she talks about him, she’s vague and moody. She cries often. She believes she can change him.
This is the deciding moment. Do you pick up the vibrator and fantasize about him, or do you pick up the phone and call the police?
JENNIFER ARMINTROUT is a USA Today bestselling author of urban fantasy and paranormal romance. She also writes award-winning erotic romance under the pseudonym Abigail Barnette. She lives in Michigan with her husband and two children.