Imagining a Black Fifty Shades
YANKING. SPANKING. Dominating. Submitting. Orgasms. Shaking. Pleasure. Strokes. Moans. Screams. Control. Release.
The sex scenes in Fifty Shades of Grey have penetrated the imaginations of women across the world, challenging them to explore their sexual curiosities.
Anastasia “Ana” Steele is every woman, kind of. She’s strong, yet vulnerable. She’s smart, yet still learning. She’s independent, yet dependent. But she’s also different from me. We’re both young. We’re both sexually adventurous. We’re both stubborn in relationships. However, she’s pale, brunette, and beautiful. I’m caramel brown, kinky-haired, and gorgeous. We both have our own sex appeal, but her image sells to a wider audience.
Beyond urban and black genres, multifaceted stories of black sexualities have barely penetrated the fiction publishing market. It’s difficult to attract nonurban or nonblack readers to the most frequent narratives of black American sex lives for a variety of reasons, but it’s primarily due to the cultural specificity of the stories that are currently available.
There are two recurring scenarios in black and urban erotica. However, these common plots have made books successful in their own right without the mainstream nod. First, there’s the story of the classic urban vixen who physically resembles a contemporary hip-hop video girl. She’s usually participating in male pleasure–centered sexual intercourse, halfway getting her needs met and having to pleasure herself. Meanwhile, she’s constantly in danger due to her sexual relationship with a drama-ridden rapper or drug-dealing man.
On the flipside, there’s the Christian-centered story line in which the black female protagonist deals with the guilt trips of the Black Church. If she’s single, she’s experiencing the too common reality of black women being ashamed of satisfying their sexual needs outside of marriage due to their Christian beliefs. If she’s married, she’s either going through a lack of sexual fulfillment due to a cheating male spouse or having an affair herself.
The cultural specificity of these frequent fiction narratives of black female sexualities makes it more difficult for these books to cross over and gain recognition outside of the black and urban book markets. Authors like Zane and Eric Jerome Dickey have experienced wider audiences and longevity in terms of their careers, but that’s because they’ve stepped outside of those story lines. Yes, authors like Noire and Kimberla Lawson Roby, whose books have plots similar to the ones listed above, have experienced popularity as well, but their popularity has been more limited to the urban and black publishing markets.
In general, it’s rare to read about the diversity of black female sexual pleasure in literary works and mainstream media. When conversations do occur or books are written and published, they usually end up as a slight remix of the story lines listed above, even in black and urban erotica. There are few stories of black participants in pleasure lifestyles such as kink and BDSM that get any mass literary traction or media attention. Thus, it’s not unexpected that most Americans would expect and easily imagine the main characters in book like Fifty Shades—a book that includes BDSM—as white.
A black Ana would require the acknowledgment that black women are into more than just vanilla sex and plain-Jane desire. While the stories of black women’s diverse sexualities are limited in mainstream media, some like handcuffs, bondage, a bit of spanking, dominating sex talk, and submitting to their partners. Others might prefer to stay in control in the bedroom, dictating the actions of their lovers and guiding their every move. Or they might prefer something entirely different. That’s the beauty of being human.
On paper, many black women are Ana. They’re college-educated, career-driven, self-sufficient, and independent. Thanks to Michelle Obama and other intelligent, ambitious black women shining in mainstream media, very few would blink twice at the idea of a black Ana in terms of academic profile and social class. It’s the sexual nature of her character that would give many people pause, as black women aren’t known for doing those types of things or exploring certain approaches to pleasure.
Additionally, what about the controlling, yet oh so sexy, Christian Grey? Would a reader believe a young (white) American billionaire is sexually attracted to a black woman? Or even more brain twisting, could a young American billionaire be black?
While there are plenty of white men and black women in interracial relationships, there aren’t any young black male billionaires even in the age of President Barack Obama. The white Christian Grey has Facebook cofounder Mark Zuckerberg as a real-life billionaire reference. A black Christian would be a total product of the imagination, which could be problematic for mass book sales, particularly outside of the black and urban publishing markets.
Part of what sells books is the balance between imagination and believability. Could two black characters, one with a believable social class and the other rich beyond the imagination, engage in kinky sex and have it appeal to the world? Would a black Ana make white American and British women fawning over Fifty Shades of Grey feel the same inspiration to explore and express their desires? Would a black Mr. Grey still make the majority of female readers moist down there and ready to get on their knees in a play dungeon?
Arguably, the whiteness of Fifty Shades of Grey was necessary for mainstream success, as the imaginations of many readers aren’t prepared to embrace a black version of the book. Not to mention, many white writers are petrified to bring characters to life that don’t look anything like them, so it would’ve been daring for E. L. James to describe her characters as brown.
Truth be told, there is a double standard when it comes to the appeal of brown bodies having mind-blowing sex versus white ones. For a society that’s supposed to be “postracial” or able to see past color, Fifty Shades of Grey is just another reminder that there’s much work to be done in order for us to really see ourselves in each other.
Black couples yank, spank, dominate, submit, orgasm, shake, please, stroke, moan, scream, control, and release in bedrooms and play in dungeons as well. With a bit of extra curiosity, mainstream readers would find that sex is a universal experience and how we do it isn’t limited by race but rather personal interest.
We need more sex stories of characters that look different than Ana and Grey. We need more sex narratives by black women, because there is power in the variety of black women’s desires, and it’s important that they tell their many sex stories, too. And we need more examples of high-achieving black men to put to rest the stereotype of a young American billionaire automatically being white. Achieving this diversity doesn’t have to be an “Affirmative Action” style initiative, but rather something that stems from our creative values as diverse erotica fans and readers.
ARIELLE LOREN is the editor in chief of Corset Magazine, the go-to magazine for all things sexuality. Embracing human curiosity, honoring sensuality, and celebrating sex, the downloadable publication caters to an international community of sex-curious readers. Learn more at Corset-Magazine.com.